#i also have writer's block lol

[tabl3]

timeline of the beginning of the ef rewrite + book 1

for the peeps that either need a refresher or get overwhelmed by my 40+ book elite force rewrite (fair), I'm going to break down a rough tl of the events. we're starting with the pre-rewrite, and the first book of the series (which you can read on ao3 under tabs-alt :) )

March, 2016 Mission Creek, California - Tasha Davenport (44) announces to her family that she is expecting a baby girl

June, 2016 - across the country in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, supervillain Bridget Hunslet’s (38) reign of Terror is ended with the combined effort of dozens of superheroes

Mid-August, 2016 - Oliver Hunslet (16) and Skylar Diaz (near-17) leave their high school at the end of the school day, freshly in their junior year. They wave goodbye to their friends: Jordan (17),  Gus (16), and Stephanie (16), before Skylar attempts to reignite conversation with her unusually quiet companion. A black limousine pulls up in the drop-off zone, with a familiar face at the wheel. He rolls down the window and offers them a proposition. Twenty minutes later, Kazimieras Andris (16) hears a knock on his family home's door. He struggles forward to answer it, having a fussy baby in his arms and two toddlers clinging to his legs- the reason he was absent from school that day. Mr. Donald Davenport (47) stands in the doorway, flanked by Skylar and Oliver on either side. A new team, he offers. Use his technology to take down Mr. Terror's empire. A chance to be a hero

September 1st, 2016 - Leo Dooley-Davenport celebrates his 16th birthday in the lab with his older siblings: Adam Davenport (19), Bree Davenport (near-18), and Chase Davenport (17). After a few hours, they're scattered around, talking about their recent big victory. Their father, Donald, comes down and introduces a new mission that starts the next day. The siblings excitedly discuss preparations, before they're interrupted. Two for the new mission, and two to stay at the academy. They're going to be separated. As they're left to decide amongst themselves, Chase chooses to leave first. He sees the heartbreak on their faces, but understands that Leo has truly come into himself on the island, and this new mission needs a leader. There's silence for a beat. Bree volunteers next. She whacks Chase on the shoulder, proclaiming that she needs to keep him out of trouble. A long hug, many tears, and a sleepless night of packing followed. Adam doesn't say a word.

September 2, 2016 - Bree and Chase arrive at Davenport Towers, Centium City, Rhode Island. Donald leads them to the balcony. They reintroduce themselves to Skylar, Kaz, and Oliver, before Donald gives them all a brief tour of the penthouse. He leaves them be after. Once the two groups finish sizing each other up, Chase instructs them to follow him to Mission Command, their headquarters under the building with a network of tunnels under Centium City. He makes his distrust of Kaz and Oliver’s powers known, citing that they have no training and the idea of a “magic space rock” is ridiculous. He also points out that he’s the leader, because his father told them so, meaning they have to listen to him. This causes a minuscule amount of friction between him and Oliver and Skylar. Meanwhile, Bree and Kaz have a budding friendship, because she enjoys the fact that he annoys her brother. That night as they settle in, Oliver comments on how creepy Chase’s capsule is. Kaz only says it looks uncomfortable.

September 3rd, 2016 - Skylar comes downstairs early in the morning to work out. She’s surprised to find Chase already awake and ready for the day. He points to the donuts he picked up. Once the rest of the team comes down, Oliver begins pressing about their objective. Bree and Skylar both remind him that it will take time to achieve. This angers him, causing him to slam his hand down, breaking off a piece of the counter with his new strength. Kaz and Skylar are surprised to see him outburst like that. After he quietly sits down, Skylar begins suggesting routes to take. Chase immediately cuts her off, suggesting that her plans are ridiculous. Before they break out in a proper argument, Kaz and Bree divert it.

September 4th, 2016 - Kaz and Oliver are experiencing body pain, chalking it up to bad takeout. Skylar is using the boys’ bathroom to get ready, complaining about Bree hogging theirs. While they talk, Skylar points out how little Chase has in his portion of the room. She picks up a picture frame off the desk, one of his family. They identify Adam, Leo, and Donald, before figuring that the heavily pregnant woman who resembles Leo is his mother and Donald’s wife. There’s another man featured, one that looks strikingly similar to Adam, Bree, and Chase- one they’ve never seen before. Kaz decides to find out who he is, flipping open Chase’s laptop and hacking through his lock. Oliver is cautious about it, while Skylar is intrigued. The laptop shuts, and the frame flies away. Chase is standing in the doorway. He tells them they can ask instead of snooping. Kaz asks who “Raggedy Andy” is. Amused, Chase replies that it’s Douglas Davenport, Donald’s younger brother. He then informs them that it’s training time. When they complain about not eating breakfast yet, he counters by telling them they should spend less time breaking boundaries to have time to eat.

In the training room, Chase stands below with the other two boys. The girls watch from above as he begins instructing them. He tells Kaz to demonstrate his flying abilities. Kaz does so, and Oliver feels a pang of jealousy because he hasn’t been able to activate his powers on command. Chase then tells Kaz to demonstrate his pyrokinesis. Kaz does so. It keeps going after Chase tells him to stop, enveloping panicking Kaz and the bottom part of the room. Chase backs Oliver into a corner, putting up a shield around them. He yells at Kaz to stop. Kaz replies that he can’t. Skylar prepares to jump down to help. Bree is faster. She lands on the floor, siphoning the flames away with wind generated by her speed. Kaz is kneeling on the ground, shaken. Skylar makes it down, running to him. Bree begins yelling at Kaz for endangering Chase’s life, despite the fact that the siblings have barely spoken to each other since arriving at the tower. Skylar argues back that Kaz is new, and can’t control himself yet. Chase tells the two boys to follow him outside. Skylar stops them on their way out, telling them that she won’t tolerate it if Chase speaks badly to them. Her argument continues with Bree afterward, while Chase, juxtaposing what the boys thought, warmly assures them that he’s there to help them, and understands that it can be scary. 

September 5th, 2016 - Skylar finds Chase downstairs in the early morning again. He’s organizing colored blocks on a holo screen on their kitchen island. She inquires what it is. He replies that it’s to be the boys’ training regiment. Skylar vetoes it, saying it’s too much. Chase retorts that Kaz has too much power that he can’t control, and Oliver has nothing to control, making them a liability. This continues the friction between them. That afternoon, mostly Kaz and Bree’s doing, the team goes out to a sandwich shop. After that, they play laser tag, then go grocery shopping- where a gaggle of preteen girls show up for Chase and Bree’s autographs. While in the midst of this, an alert sounds off. An active robbery in the shopping plaza. The team runs to a small antique store, where a band of thieves are holding the owner at gunpoint. As Chase begins giving an order, Bree and Skylar run right past him, engaging with the criminals. Chase, annoyed, tells the other boys to not use their powers, as it's a cardinal rule to never use deadly force on humans, before joining the fight, leaving Kaz and Oliver completely unsure of what to do. The three heroes that can fight get in each other’s way, because they’re in a tiny space and not at all fighting together, which is added to by Kaz particularly being an obstacle. After a failing fight, Oliver trips, knocking everyone over into a pile. The thieves get away, the store is destroyed, and the young girls that followed them take a picture. 

Later that afternoon, Chase receives a phone call from Donald. He tries to assure him that they took care of the damages, but his father is furious about the terrible debut of his new team spreading across social media and news networks. Chase tries to explain, but only receives scathing words about how Donald never should have trusted him to lead, and that he’d better fix this mess. After he hangs up, Chase turns his anger on the team that’s gathered on the couch, pointing out everything they did wrong. Skylar laughs at him, telling him to do some reflection because he didn’t take any blame in his rant. Chase goes down to Mission Command, while Kaz tells Skylar to knock it off.

Oliver continues trying to activate his powers on command. Bree thinks about calling her family, before zipping off as she’s been doing to enjoy her new freedom. Skylar pores over ancient Calderan archives that her adoptive father Horace Diaz (3,045) transcribed from Hapax the Elder in a quest to retrieve her powers. 

Meanwhile, Kaz finds Chase working down in Mission Command. Chase tries to get him to leave. He thinks it works, until he hears crunches. Kaz is still there, staring intently while eating potato chips. Chase is purely confused as to why. Kaz says he finds whatever Chase is working on interesting. That perplexes Chase more, because even the more tech-savvy members of his family have never taken an interest. It’s the wormhole generator from Mighty Med that he’s trying to put into a more functional design. He teases Kaz that it’ll be another one to break. Kaz then threatens him that he’s going to touch his expensive equipment with his greasy fingers.

Hours go by, and Chase is surprised to look up and still see Kaz there. After a brief chat, Chase recalls the small crush he had developed on Kaz after waking up in Mighty Med and seeing who saved his life. This causes him to not pay attention, shocking himself on his machine. Kaz rushes over to help him, causing Chase to fumble away harder. They leave together after, with Chase tripping over the hyperlift’s threshold after Kaz compliments him. 

Once back upstairs, Chase makes eye contact with Skylar. He feels nauseous, saying that he’s going out to get air. He finds himself at a library/cafe, browsing the shelves. He collides with someone, knocking both of them over. A girl, a very pretty girl, accepts the hand to help her back up. They go back to themselves after, before their fingers brush on the spine of Frankenstein. They talk about this before exchanging names, with Chase heavily struggling to form the two words. She laughs anyway, and doesn’t care that he’s bionic or famous. That’s refreshing to Chase. She informs him that he’s taking her on a coffee date. Reese (16) takes his hand and leads him away.

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been. 

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause. 

“I think I should go.” 

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 

“Yes.” 

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

[ohraicodoll]

Monsters

Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us (show/game) 4.8K Words (3rd POV) Summary: Two broken people clash. “Even when he hated her presence, it stirred something deep in his belly to see her spitting and angry at the world. Like a confirmation that only the cruel survived. That if something sweet like her had turned into a monster then he shouldn’t have expected better for himself. Permission. He was justified in his edges and bitterness.” Warning: Depictions of graphic violence Part I | Part II

Ellie had told him that the woman had been trying to be a singer before the world went to hell. He hadn’t asked, because he never asked, but had learned it the way most information came from the young girl. Rushed and mostly to fill the silence between them when she wasn’t being entertained. He didn’t care about before because that world was over so why did it matter- who they were before- but he could see it in his mind sometimes.

She would have been young, a lot younger than him by a decade at least, and soft skinned with bright eyes and an eagerness to share something beautiful. An artist type with her voice as the brush. He knew that type well. When he was younger, he’d wanted to be a musician too. Had learned to play the guitar, played a few gigs to keep himself occupied while Tommy went off to the army trying to be a hero. Met a girl that way though it all came screeching to a halt when she got knocked up and then quickly dipped when Sarah was young. There was no time for guitar and dreams while raising an infant as a single father. He had just been an average joe then. Not too smart, not too many goals, but good with his hands and at building things. The only job he was qualified for. He hadn’t had time for beauty or art when he’d been too busy trying to pay the bills, keep his brother out of trouble fresh from discharge, and his daughter fed and taken care of. Now neither of them had time for that. It was only about survival and this teenage girl tethering them together. The mission. The woman, who Ellie had taken to calling Red for some reason he wasn’t paying attention to, wasn’t soft skinned anymore and probably hadn’t been for a long time. She was all bared teeth, sharp edges, and brutality. A bobcat whose first instinct was to tear and shred rather than be gentle. That’s how he first saw Red.

They’d been clearing an old building for the night to possibly stay in and had stumbled upon a group who’d camped the area, knowing what a prime location it was. Scavengers, vultures picking off whoever came through and taking what they could. There’d been a good number of them and Joel was only one man with a highly valuable ward so he did the rational thing and ran. Ellie had stumbled badly, falling behind in the blink of an eye. He’d cursed at himself later and reamed himself a new one at the fact he didn’t keep her in front of him. It was an amateur mistake and he wasn’t an amateur. The scavenger that had been persistently tailing them had been there fast, machete raised, still pissed at the blow the girl had landed on him earlier. Quicker than he could raise his own arm and shoot the guy Red had come barreling from a side room, swinging a metal bat so hard into the guy's head it dented. All teeth, growling like a goddamn animal, bashing the bat over and over into his head until it was nothing but pulp. Breathing hard, her eyes met his and it was like looking into a mirror. Hollow and broken and rage. Even when he hated her presence, it stirred something deep in his belly to see her spitting and angry at the world. Like a confirmation that only the cruel survived. That if something sweet like her had turned into a monster then he shouldn’t have expected better for himself. Permission. He was justified in his edges and bitterness. She’d helped Ellie and gotten them out, her choice made after seeing the asshole go after the girl. It took all night to get out of the city limits and far enough it was safe enough to rest. Then the damn kid got attached. She refused to go on without the woman after only one night, no matter how much Joel growled at her absolutely not. Red didn’t have anyone, was just surviving from one night to the next. The heavy implication that there had been a group, had been other people, once hung in the silence. And against his best wishes, Joel agreed if only to get the kid moving though he kept an eye on the woman diligently for at least a couple weeks.

They both didn’t like each other at first, but she looked after the girl and it helped having someone look over his shoulder after Tess… But she wasn't the smuggler who had been all broken edges and selfishness. Red didn’t give a shit about herself to a fault, so selfless at times it felt like it was a punishment or a goddamn death wish. Like she hated herself. She used her body like a weapon and made Ellie her sole priority as if she had nothing left tethering her to life until she saved the girl. He reasoned that it made his job easier, but if anything it made him more on edge watching her throw herself into every fight like a rabid animal with no care for her own safety. Joel reasoned that it was because seeing another person die would make Ellie harder to manage, but he wasn’t so sure. He wondered who she had lost to act that way and then he shoved that thought into the back of his mind because he didn’t care about her enough to wonder that. As the days went on, he could see the leftover marks from the world before and the person she used to be, small whispers of that bright eyed girl. A small tattooed “Love ya” in someone’s handwriting on her inner arm. Dainty flowers on her ankle. Stars on little strings under her collar bone. What you would expect a young woman to get if there weren’t an apocalypse. When she pissed him off, he called her Starshine mockingly, unable to see something so small and lighthearted without turning it bitter. She called him Tex after Ellie had spilled that’s where he was from. He hadn’t been able to hide the wince at the name so she kept at it like a bird pecking at an open wound. The memory of Tess's voice calling him that late at night had long since merged with her wide scared eyes as he left her to die. It flashed in his mind every time. It made him hate her more, but the anger kept him focused. Starshine. Tex. The pain was a revolving door. Red protected her bag religiously. It held everything that she owned, the only remnants of that life before. A small mixtape cassette of music, a couple of pictures, a pair of keys that were rusted and useless, a journal. He’d seen her damn near behead a guy who had attempted to rip it off her and she hadn’t stopped hacking away until she was soaked in blood and panting. It was the one time Ellie had been scared of her. Joel had been impressed. All teeth. She didn’t speak for days after that. That softness wasn’t completely gone though, just buried underneath thick callus-like skin. Sometimes he could catch it peeking through. When they’d happened upon a stream, she’d forced Ellie to wash her hair and he’d watched as Red helped her lean her hair back into the water and had even laughed when the girl swung it to splash her. She’d sat behind Ellie later on and combed through the long mess, complaining the kid was letting it get matted. Then she’d rolled her eyes when Ellie had complained in turn about Red’s aggressive brushing. She could handle people trying to kill her constantly but not getting her tangles brushed out. Joel had watched them out of the corner of his eye, warm coffee in his hands, and simply shook his head. The kid liked her and it kept Ellie from pestering him constantly, though he was finding he didn’t mind it as much. She would take turns asking them questions whether they be about the world or how things worked or their lives before. Sometimes she simply liked to read things out loud from her dumb joke book to whatever books she’d grab. It was the few times he saw Red crack a smile, her hand on Ellie’s bag to keep the girl moving forward and making sure she didn’t trip on anything while distracted. He was minding them both less and less. When they’d gone through a store, Red’s fingers had trailed over the tops of old records lovingly, wistfully. Joel had watched her linger for a second and the way her eyes had lightened, her lips pressed together as if she were remembering. When she caught him staring, her hand had snatched away and the light had sputtered out before she kept going. He’d resisted going over and seeing what records she had touched, finding the spots in the dust hers had made. One time after having found two whole bottles of booze and a safe enough spot to breathe, they’d both gotten drunk after Ellie had passed out. It’d been a hard day of travel and they had needed it. Joel hadn’t had alcohol in months and his tolerance had diminished, the liquor hitting him harder than it had in a while. She’d mentioned a younger sister and a guy named Harry and he didn’t have to wonder who she had lost anymore. The name burned in his belly along with the taste of the alcohol and he imagined someone handsome and young, maybe the owner of the “love ya” handwriting. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry to see how long that wound had been there. His own was twenty years old and still festering. Hell, there was a new one just a few months old. They’d switched to other topics. Music mostly, Texas, the Fireflies. Nothing too personal, but holding tiny glimpses of themselves. She’d fallen asleep first and his eyes had traced the tiny stars too many times to count, hand gripping the bottle of liquor to keep from reaching out. They both learned each other’s patterns. Months of traveling together, working together to keep Ellie safe, had given her the ability to read what he wanted without him even saying it. Survival did that. Flank left, check around the corner right, keep back with Ellie while he cleared the rooms. He trusted her to take care of the girl, but that selfless tendency sometimes reared its ugly head…except Joel didn’t know when things changed. When it stopped being a pain in the ass for him and instead drove high keeling panic through his body. The sun was getting low and they’d unintentionally come too close to what seemed like a fortified cabin. The owners had been out and stumbled upon them, a case of the wrong people at the wrong time, and Joel knew instantly what type of people these were. Not just preppers like Bill, but kill-first-zero-hesitation survivalists. Apparently simply knowing of the safe house’s location was a death sentence and they’d attacked before he could process. Joel had a guy in a chokehold, squeezing so tight he could hear the distinct crack of bones splintering. There’d been four, the first easy enough to take care of but while Red was finishing him, another was headed towards Ellie and had managed to hit her. The woman had thrown herself at him, literally, clinging onto his back and driving her knife over and over into his chest. But he wasn’t going down so easily and had grabbed onto her arm in turn, trapping her there. She didn’t see the fourth guy walking up with his gun trained. Didn’t see that she was seconds from being another name on the list of people who had died in Joel’s life. But he had. White hot panic shot through his chest and he hadn’t thought, hadn’t even grabbed the pistol that had fallen to the ground. Joel lunged, gunshot ringing through his ear, and tackled the man. Blood warmed his skin as he punched over and over and over again. He hadn’t needed a bat to do the same damage she had done that first time, he was a weapon himself and even as bone fragments embedded in his hands, skin caved, and brain matter splattered all over the ground he destroyed whatever was left of the man underneath him. “Joel!” her fervent whisper shot through him and the sound of his name, not just Tex, finally got him to stop, breathing hard. In the dying sun, he could see her perfectly standing next to him. Like starshine. Still alive, the barest graze of a bullet on her shoulder. But she was okay and Ellie was okay and the man was dead. And she wasn't afraid of him, sitting atop the mutilated corpse that he had done with his own hands. “You okay?” she asked and he wanted to laugh because she was asking him? But he nodded gruffly and attempted to stand, only pausing when she offered him a hand equally covered in blood. She used to be a singer. He’d be a musician. Now they were matching monsters. For some reason, seeing her blood soaked hand in his irked him. She hadn’t been paying attention to herself and was only focused on getting the guy away from Ellie. It was careless and remembering seeing the gun raised at her irritated him even more. “You damn near almost got killed, Starshine,” Joel growled, his anger finding its usual target, “You’re lucky I managed to get to him in time and all you got was a graze instead of your brains splattered all over the damn floor.” “I was protecting Ellie,” Red bit out, hackles raised, “I’m sorry, I thought that was the point? Would you rather I make sure her ass stays alive or mine?” He grit his teeth together and clenched his fists, the pain shooting up from the torn skin helping keep him grounded. The answer should have been easy. Ellie, always. She was the cargo, the whole reason behind this journey. But the fact he couldn’t make himself reply, wasn’t satisfied with either option, made him turn his back and walk towards the house in silence. He didn’t like what that meant. They could see why the group had wanted to protect the small cabin. It was a goldmine and if they didn’t have a goal, a mission, Joel would have loved to keep fixing the place up and stay there for the rest of his life. They had their own generators, a high concrete fence, a water well, and even a small farm behind the house. They even had electricity and running hot water. It was a goddamn oasis in the middle of the forest, a more rustic smaller version of what Bill and Frank had. After clearing the whole place, it was decided they all would stay at least a day or two. It was safe enough and that would give them all time to rest, restock, and breathe before continuing on to Wyoming. It was a luxury and there was no sense not taking advantage of that. 

Ellie had happily raced through the whole house, digging through the previous occupants' belongings as if she hadn’t just witnessed all four of them get massacred. She flipped through their books, went through the pantries, and even shouted happily to Red at the discovery of a radio and collection of tapes. She’d paused only to scrunch up her nose, looking at the two adults, “Actually, you both should take showers first. You both need it so I’ll go last.” Joel had looked down, blood and mud covering his arms and pants while Red’s torso and hands were crimson as well. Now that the adrenaline was seeping from his body, the sting of his knuckles were making themselves known. He nodded his head at the woman, brow furrowed, “You can take a shower in the Master. I’m gonna take stock of all their shit and use the hallway one.” For once, Red didn’t argue, only pressed her lips tightly together and nodded before heading down to where they’d discovered the large master bedroom. She was usually quick to argue about being told what to do, but Joel tried not to think too much about it and chalked it up to exhaustion. The hot water was a godsend for his bunch up muscles though it stung like hell on his wounds. Hands pressed against the shower wall, he let the water run over his skin and wash away all the blood away. The murky rust colored water swirled and disappeared down the drain and though his brain told him to be efficient, clean and get in and out, he allowed him a small bit of time to stand there and zone out. There’d been a fixed up jeep in a makeshift garage out back. They could tear every salvageable supply from the cabin, fill it up, and finally make it to Wyoming in record time instead of the weeks, months, it’d been taking walking there. A couple days to rest and they’d be on their way. But with a plan set, his mind inevitably went to the woman he’d just butchered a man to protect. It hadn’t been like that moment with Ellie, standing in front of the FEDRA soldier. That night his mind had disappeared, seeing the light of the gun and knowing there was a young girl behind him that was the same age Sarah had been made him flashback to that moment. He’d been there again, but different. More brutal, more capable. He wouldn’t let her get hurt again. No, this was different. Pure instinct had taken over his body and he hadn’t thought at all. Ellie hadn’t been the one in danger, Red had, but the reaction had been visceral. He hadn’t wanted her name to end up on that list of people Joel couldn’t save. Hell, he didn’t even know her real name. No one to mourn her but him and the kid. Running a hand over his face, he finished washing up and turned the water off, not wanting to take all the heat before Ellie could get cleaned up. His muscles had loosened but that only let every ache and soreness seep in, his knuckles a mess of skin and small fragments of bone stabbed in. They were going to smart for a while and he needed to get the splinters out. Joel threw on a loose shirt and clean pair of jeans, water dripping from his damp hair even as he tried to comb it back. He’d seen a small suture kit in the master bedroom with some tweezers. Cursing himself for not grabbing it, he left the bathroom and barely missed being bulldozed over as Ellie ran in, “my turn!” He frowned as the door slammed shut loudly in her eagerness, shaking his head at the teenager and sighing. Red had to still be in the shower so that would give him enough time to grab the kit from the bedroom and try to clean up his hand. Most of the fragments were in his right hand, his dominant one, and it was gonna be a bitch to get out. The master bedroom was more like a stockpile than what it previously was. All the outer windows had been boarded up, the only entrance to the house being the front door. Racks of fabric, supplies, all sorts lined the walls. Nothing decorative, purely functional. Turning to the bathroom door to make sure it was still shut, Joel went over and found the shelf of First Aid supplies and rifled through until he came across the small kit. No alcohol, but there was some ointment and bandages so better than nothing. “Shoulda just used the gun,” Red’s voice was soft despite the words and he turned, finding her leaning against the open door frame in nothing but a towel. Steam poured from the entryway, light reflecting off the mist and surrounding her almost in a glow. She looked cleaner than he’d ever seen, skin shiny and hair sticking to her neck. The little tattooed stars winked at him even from across the room. He forgot how quiet she could be sometimes. “You rather I take three seconds to find my gun in the dark and let you get shot or deal with a busted hand?” Joel bit out gruffly, hand clenching reflexively though he wasn’t sure if it was out of pain or because he wanted to trace the long line of her bare neck. She didn’t reply, arms crossed over her torso before padding over and grabbing the kit from his hands. Her face was never relaxed, lips always pressed together in a slight purse and brows lowered. A line between her eyes was beginning to develop, the apocalypse wearing and tearing her down like the rest of them. He wondered if she had been a smiler when she was younger and shared her music but then clamped down on that thought. “Sit,” Red bit out though she accompanied it by shoving a hand against his chest, forcing him to take a seat on the edge of the bed. His own brows furrowed into a hard line, back stiff, at the none too gentle movement though his mouth went dry for an entirely different reason as she kneeled in front of him. He could see the little stars up close, peering down at her as she shoved her way between his knees on the floor. She smelled of soap and something floral which had his brain confused because it didn’t fit her. Maybe the her before, but not the one soaked in blood that usually was at his side. She grabbed his hand in her’s without even asking him and pulled it forward to rest on his thigh, laying out the contents of the kit next to them before pulling the tweezers out. Joel could only watch and control his breathing, trying not to shudder at the feel of her warm skin against his jeans or the brush of her hair over his arms. It’d been a while…since Tess and he wasn’t going to deny that Red was attractive. Hell, any man probably would have a hard time keeping his thoughts pure with a pretty woman between his thighs. But her on her knees, fingers skimming over his knuckles, made him clench his teeth in an attempt to remain neutral.

“You don’t have to-” “Shut up, Miller,” Red muttered, holding the tweezers and working to dig out one of the larger splinters, “I’ve seen you use your left and you’re shit with it.” Joel huffed and tried to focus on the pain, his breathing, anything but her touch. He should have yanked his hand away and shrugged her off, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she was this close and he could watch her, memorize the freckles along her shoulders and the trail of water sliding down. She pulled out a few large fragments of bone and he watched in morbid curiosity at the small pile. They’d once belonged to the skull of another person. Joel had managed to smash his head in so hard they’d dug underneath his skin, silent retribution in the last moments of that man’s life. Now he was in his house, using his water and his things, taking his bed. “Luckily it doesn’t seem like you fractured your hand,” Red muttered, adding another small bone to the pile. One of her hands was holding the tweezers while the other wrapped around his fingers, his own hand almost gently wrapped around hers. He tried to shrug it off as her holding it to maneuver it around. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Joel grumbled and cleared his throat as her thumb trailed over the cuts on his knuckles. The small movement was surprisingly gentle, something he didn’t expect from her. “You saved me,” the words were whispered softly as if she didn’t want to speak them out loud into existence. But he’d heard them, had been acutely aware of the sound of her breathing and the way her lips formed the words even as she concentrated on pulling the splinters out. And her saying them, confirming what he had done, shot a different kind of pain through him. Because he had saved her and for all the excuses he tried to come up with, they were just that. Excuses. The real reason why wasn’t something he was willing to admit to. But it stirred that anger he relied on when confronted by something he didn’t like. Vulnerability. “I wouldn’t have had to if you’d been watching yourself,” he growled low and tried to jerk his hand out of her grasp, but she held on strong, “Should have stayed back and behind me like I told you to.” Her eyes flickered up to meet his hazel ones under her brow and those long lashes, the look hard and sharp. “Right. It’s always listen to you or do what you say as if you’re the expert on surviving,” her voice was low and rough like a crackling flame, “Anyone ever told you that you have control issues, Tex?” The sight of her angry, on her knees in just a towel and wet hair clinging to her skin, framing those little tattooed stars had something stirring deep inside. His free hand dug into his thigh and he tried to ignore how soft her hands were even as they gripped his injured one, “My control issues have kept me alive this long. You knew what you were signing up for when you tagged along. I didn’t need a second little girl to watch over if that’s how you want to act, Starshine.” She chuckled humorlessly and leaned in towards him between his thighs, “No, you see at first I thought that was your type. That you liked being obeyed and I was almost sure that’s how you liked getting your rocks off. Some sweet damsel in distress who needs you and gets on their knees to please you however you want like good girls.” As if emphasizing her point, she sat up straight all prim and proper and he tried to ignore the trickle of water that slid down her cleavage and into the towel. Red wasn’t wrong entirely. The sight had his mouth watering and as her hand rested on his thigh, squeezing the thick muscle there, arousal flooded him. Then the hand still holding his injured one squeezed and he hissed, a strange combination of pleasure and pain hitting him, “But the more I see you, I don’t think you want some submissive sweet thing at all. I think you like someone arguing with you more, right Tex?” Joel glared at her, blood pounding through his veins. He was loath to admit to her being right, at confirming that she had read that part of him, especially as she sat there half naked and looking so smug. Maybe she was right. Hell, that had been what had drawn him to Tess. He didn’t like gentle, didn’t trust it anymore. Gentle got you killed and even if he did want her to listen and do what she was told, it’d been born out of wanting to keep a distance. But she wasn’t gentle and she didn’t listen. She was a wild animal, all teeth, and hell if that hadn’t made her attractive even while driving him wild. “Guess you got me all figured out, don’t ya Starshine?” he hissed, leaning towards her. Her fingers clenched onto him tighter and he got the urge to lick the star pattern along her collarbone, just to see what she’d do. But he didn’t, eyes narrowing and drilling into her own, “Except you’re wrong if you don’t think I like seeing you on your knees for me.” Her pupils were wide and blown up, skin flushed and scars in even more stark relief. Each deep breath made her chest rise and fall and he knew even if she was trying to hide it, his words had affected her the same. Joel only leaned back and ripped his hand from hers, moving to stand up, “Now get dressed and go to sleep if you’re done bothering me.” He’d snatched the suture kit and tweezers from the bed, stepping around the woman and leaving her still on her knees as he went for the door. He felt the urge to look back at her, to see her reaction, but he only pressed forward and left, shutting the door behind him. If he didn’t look back, she would stay the same monster as him in his head, not the girl who smelled of flowers and gently pressed against his thighs. And he needed that reassurance even as the memory of her skin on his made his fists clench. 

[rustbeltjessie]

We Have Always Lived in the Castle // Jessie Lynn McMains, September 2024

Just a little tribute to one of the finest opening paragraphs in literary history, and to my favorite unlikable protagonist, Merricat Blackwood.

[plusultraetc]

oh how the poor sleeping habits tables have turned

[swiftfootedachilles]

im just gonna be honest gang obviously its gonna be easy for you to say youre in love with a character and theyre an angel when anytime they do something you don't like you brush it off as out of character

[luvmake]

I’m new and I already love ur prompts💕💕😭 can u pls write some couple argument prompts 🙏🏾 with dialogue too, if u see this THANK YOU QUEEN🥰

❝CAN WE FIX IT?❞

tag when used so I can see your work! <3

— "I hate this distance you're keeping between us!"

— "Why are you asking so many questions? You're acting like a child."

— "I don't want to see you!" "You can't be serious."

— "I've been the only one putting effort into this relationship."

— "Don't you dare give me another one of your useless excuses."

— "I need you! Where have you been the times I needed you?"

— "You don't answer my texts or calls, how could I not be suspicious?" "No, you just don't trust me enough!"

— "Be honest with me...do you still feel anything for me?"

— "Of course I care for us!" "You certainly don't seem like it."

— "I have done nothing but be patient with you!"

— "Glad to know I'm the least important thing in your life right now."

— "What do you want from me? To throw away all I've worked for?" "All I'm asking for is your time."

— "Stop pushing me aside!"

— "I think...I think we need a break." "No! Baby, we can fix this, please."

— "You're always so dramatic, I'm sick of it!" "And I'm sick of you constantly belittling my feelings!"

— "I just need space." "Sure, go ahead and continue avoiding me."

— "This silence is tearing me apart, don't you get that?"

— A seeing B starting to tear up, and that shatters their angry resolve. A takes small steps towards them and motions to cup B's face, but A's heart shatters even more when B steps away from them.

— "You haven't the faintest clue of how alone I've felt."

— "I just wish you'd spend more time with me." "You know I have more important things to do than to be around here all the time!"

— "I don't think this will work out." "Don't, don't say that..."

— "Being petty will get us nowhere." "We weren't getting anywhere to begin with."

— "I love you still, you know?" "Well, then start acting like it."

— "I told you I needed time." "You don't even have to let me in, but please, just listen to me."

— "Those are my friends, what was I supposed to do?" "Defend me!"

— "All I do these days is sit around and wait for you like an idiot!"

— "You really think I don't love you anymore?"

— "I think I'm losing the right to call you mine."

— "You always play the victim card! Do you ever stop and think how I feel?"

[non-un-topo]

Getting an extreme case of writer's block the second I graduate and actually have time to write has to be some kind of cosmic punishment for something idk

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Insufferable (5/7)

Getting close to the endgame here, I think! I’ve been excited about this chapter of the Vox sickfic for a while. Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4

Next chapters: 6 7

Wavs: 1 3

————————————————

If Velvette believed in prayer, she would be praying for a miracle right now. Of course, ending up in hell tended to make one think that any god would be unlikely to help out. So she resigned herself to hoping for a new development.

When Vox stumbled out from the bedroom, he was lacking all of the enthusiasm and energy he’d had the previous times. His screen was full of tiny cracks, though it was unclear if this was a broken screen or just a malfunctioning display. The center of his screen had a bright spot but everything else was dull. “Ugh, what time is it?”

“Morning, Vox. It’s 10.”

“Shit,” he said, rubbing his sore head. “Didn’t I have an interview today?”

Velvette shook her head. “That was yesterday, and it’s already taken care of. All you need to do is rest, love.”

Vox sighed and collapsed on the couch, as if he had used up all of the day’s energy just by standing and saying a few words. “I feel fucking awful.”

Velvette just nodded. “I know.”

“And I just…” he paused, turning his head around the room. “Where’s that radio coming from? Why the fuck is there a radio in here?”

“I’m not hearing anything,” Velvette said. “And besides, there’s no more functioning electronics in this room anyway.”

“I could have sworn I heard… hhh’tzzzch!” A small shower of sparks fell from his screen.

“And that’s why there’s no functioning electronics in this room,” she added, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “How’s that virus scan coming?” she asked, approaching his display.

“I have a virus?” Vox’s face froze, not like a broken program but rather like a shattered hope.

“And memory loss.”

“You sure you don’t hear that radio?”

She shook her head. “And hallucinations, apparently.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Val asked, walking in.

“Val, please tell me you hear that fucking obnoxious radio static.”

Val raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you talking about? All I hear is your fans whirring like a helicopter.”

“Fucking hell, I can hear his cackling too. Buzzing static and maniacal laughter and… heh’TZZZZCHT! Constant irritation.” He clawed at his arms. Valentino left the room and came back with an anti-itch lotion, rubbing it in generously. “Thanks, Val, but I don’t think that’s actually doing anything.”

Valentino shrugged. “Worth a try. Speaking of worth a try…” he found the volume controls on Vox’s side and turned them down. “Do you still hear the static now?” Vox’s mouth moved in response, but no sound emerged. “Damn it, he’s lost his voice again!” He blew some smoke into Vox’s vents and Velvette stared at him incredulously.

“You turned his speakers down, idiot! Of course you can’t hear him!” It was very strange to watch Vox sneeze with no sound. Just the flickering screen, the odd facial expressions, and the flurry of sparks. Eventually, she turned the volume back up just in time to catch the tail end of the fit.

“HHHH’TDDZZZZZSH! Heh’TZZZCHT! Hhh’TTTTZZZZZZCHHH!” Vox deliberately aimed the last few at Val to express his discomfort, and the other jumped from the shock. “Thanks for nothing,” he groaned, clawing at his throat. He grimaced and launched into a hacking cough, looking incredibly frustrated and confused when it was done. “You guys didn’t suddenly adopt a pet while I was asleep, did you?” Velvette and Val both shook their heads. “And Val, you haven’t seen Angel recently?”

“No, why?”

“Because I have the distinct sensation of fur in my mouth and it just won’t go away no matter what I do. Fucking gross.”

A warning popped up on Vox’s screen. “Sensors appear to be malfunctioning.” Yeah, no shit. Vox’s fans kicked into an even higher gear than the Vees had thought possible and he began to shiver so violently Velvette wondered if he was going to shut down for the fourth time since this disaster began.

“V-V-V-V-V-V…” Velvette and Val made eye contact with each other and then with Vox, having no way to tell which of them he was calling for. “V-V-Val, c-c-could you get me some… hhh’tzzzsh! S-s-some w-water?” Val nodded and came back with a cup of warm water. He handed it to Vox, whereupon it promptly fell out of the weak grip of the TV demon’s trembling hands. “Sorry.” Val began cleaning up the spill and winced when a sneeze from Vox electrocuted him through the puddle. “Sorry again.”

Velvette searched the cupboards for a pitcher with a spout, then filled it with more warm water and poured it into Vox’s mouth. She had to pause a few times to let him swallow, but eventually all the water was in his system. A small smile spread across his dim screen and he seemed a little calmer, though still clearly quite pathetic and uncomfortable.

His eyes went wide as he stared at a spot in the room. “Wait, what? Alastor… no. No, he can’t be here. There’s no way he’d get past security. It’s just… why does it feel so real?” He buried his face in the couch, trying to dull his senses but nothing worked. He began crying again, this time deep, wracking sobs that shook the whole couch as his fist pounded limply against the pillow. “Please, God, no! I can’t do this anymore!” Valentino’s eyes flitted towards the guns, but Velvette shook her head. Vox looked up at both of them, his screen crackling with energy that was somehow both weak and desparate. “How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?”

Before either of them could formulate a response, another warning popped up on the screen. “Virus removal has been halted due to insufficient resources. Recommend upgrading to stronger anti-virus protection… Checking for updates… No updates available. Try again later.” From the way Vox’s face fell so far it was practically off screen, it was clear he was aware of the message. “No! Please! I can’t… I’ll do anything!”

“Oh ho ho, anything, you say? This will be fun.” Velvette and Val winced as the voice rang out through the room, first from the sheer volume of it and then from the realization that now they could hear it too. This was far from the new development Velvette had been hoping for. But it was the new development they would have to face.

[carlos-tk]

sometimes i can’t believe i was posting wips every single wednesday and sunday for literal months like who even was that person

[that-was-anticlimactic]

if i loved you like i'm capable of

Chuuya stared at him, eyes wide before bursting into laughter. “Phah! Dazai was right—you are high-strung!” they cackled, slapping their knee with their hand.

“I am not high-strung!” Kunikida argued. “Unlike you, I actually have a set of ideals and morals that I strive to live by. If that makes me high-strung to the world, then so be it. At least I have those to fall back on.”

“Hm,” Chuuya hummed, all traces of laughter vanishing within seconds. Although their chests were practically touching, they somehow managed to stalk even closer. They hooked a finger around Kunikida’s collar and pulled him down, ignoring his indignant squawk and red skin.

“You seem pretty high-strung to me, even without all your ideals. Looks like you could use a break, pretty boy.”

[or, kenji, chuuya, & kunikida have a sleepover & bad flirting ensues]

🛏 7,045 words | kunichuu & kenji 🛏

a gift for my beloved @zukkaoru because they had to listen to me complain about writer's bock for two months straight, they wanted more kunicuu, their kunichuu spam yesterday inspired this, & bc i'm biased & love them <333

[amplexadversary]

I'm screenshotting rather than derailing this post but

I'd like to call it now before I'm accused of this by someone who thinks the thematic foundation of a particular show is the "romance"

just. Based on some *takes* I've seen.

[stillsolo]

omg i can't tell y'all how happy i am to have found an archive of han's old ass base icons on my desktop like holy shit i thought these were long gone??

[obsidian-vineyard84]

I think im cursed to make characters hot or something, how does this keep happening

[chocolate-cream-soldier]

---

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Lady Erridge has a revelation about Trevelyan and the Commander.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 1,840. Rating: all audiences.)

Chapter 23: Meddlesome Women

Now that Skyhold had settled down after all that excitement of the earthquake, Lady Tam Erridge decided she would take her afternoon walk.

Lady Erridge believed that no less than three walks a day were absolutely necessary for one to maintain a positive outlook on life. Fresh air and sunlight, she believed, were excellent for the humours.

And there was the added benefit that, from the battlements, she could see all the banquet invitees arriving—and, if she squinted her eyes, could judge their manner of dress with extreme prejudice. She liked the Bann of the Waking Sea’s practical travelling gear. She did not like the Comtesse Bervard’s extravagant gown.

But, eventually, this well of entertainment ran dry. Lady Erridge made her way back off the castle walls, and towards a place more proper for one such as her to be seen—Skyhold’s lovely gardens.

The gardens were quite in her good opinion. They reminded her of the ones at home—despite being much smaller—and also of the flowers dear Lady Orroat had sent her. Those poor things were dying off now, but Erridge had been sure to press as many as she could. She had plans to include some in her next letter home.

So pleased was she by these thoughts of dear Orroat, that Lady Erridge almost missed the sight of the Commander emerging from the hall. But the glint of his armour caught her eye, and she found herself quite abruptly dragged from her imagination.

“Commander!” she called. “Oh, Commander!”

It was too late for him to disappear back into the keep. By the time he spotted her, she was already most of the way over. She had even scooped up her fluffy pink skirts, so that she might run that slight bit faster.

“Oh, Commander, I am so glad to see you up and well,” she said.

And indeed, he did look well. Nothing like what Lady Trevelyan had described seeing, thank goodness—though perhaps his stubble was a little longer than usual. But Lady Erridge believed it perhaps suited him, to look somewhat more rugged. She would have to ask what Lady Trevelyan thought of it, later.

“Thank you, Lady Erridge,” said the Commander, politely, his voice as monotone as ever. “I was just on my way to—”

“Oh, yes, of course, I shan’t delay you long—I merely wished to come up and say how glad I was to see you well, and to tell you—”

The Commander settled where he stood.

“—how terribly sorry I was if the apple crumble I sent to you had absolutely any involvement at all in your sickness. Truly, I meant it only as a kindness.”

“It’s all right,” he told her. “It was… a different sort of sickness. The crumble was… good.”

Lady Erridge heaved an enormous sigh. “Oh, I am ever-so-glad to hear it. Lady Trevelyan said as much, and told me you enjoyed it terribly.”

“Ah… yes.” He attempted to step around her. “Now, I must—”

“Oh, but”—Erridge jumped into his path—“Commander, I simply cannot allow you to go without confessing to you a truth that has been weighing on my mind these past three days. Lady Trevelyan told me she would have none of the credit, but being that you enjoyed it so, I simply must tell you: it was not I alone who made that crumble. Lady Trevelyan gave me all her help!”

“Oh.” A sudden something seemed to temper the Commander’s entire countenance. It was the first time Lady Erridge had seen his stern gaze soften so. “She did?”

“I made quite the mess of my first attempt, you see,” Erridge admitted. “Lady Trevelyan swept in, so brilliantly, and helped me to clean up and try once more. It was she who cut the apples—and baked it, too! Oh, she was simply lovely. Perhaps she will help me make pickled eggs, to speed your recovery!”

The Commander smiled. Lady Erridge could hardly believe it.

“She is a good woman,” he murmured, “a very good woman.”

“Indeed. She was so excellent at soothing my woes, even though I was quite hysterical! Oh, but she is ever so wonderful to talk to, isn’t she? Though, not quite as wonderful as my Lady Orroat—but no one’s conversation can compare to hers. It is as if… do you understand, if I say that it is so easy to talk to her, it feels like breathing?”

The Commander paused a moment, his eyes gazing away as if at nothing at all. “...I do.”

Lady Erridge opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. In a second that felt as forever, she studied his face. Every wrinkle his smile caused. All the warmth in his eyes. That little blush upon his cheeks. Maker, no. It couldn’t possibly be...

The thought ought to have made her heart break. Yet instead, Lady Erridge smiled.

“She talks quite well of you, you know.”

The Commander startled. “I…?”

“Lady Trevelyan, I mean,” Lady Erridge said, her excitement growing by the second. “Says very nice things about you. Very nice.”

“Oh… I see. Well, ah…”

“You know,” interrupted Erridge, practically jigging, “I have just recalled that I have not yet sent my dear friend Lady Orroat the reply she will be waiting upon, and I do wish to do so before the sun sets. Farewell, Commander!”

“Oh—ah!”

Leaving him in confusion, Lady Erridge moved as a blur, running for the keep door. She burst into the Great Hall, giggling and laughing, and ran straight for the Lady Montilyet’s parlour.

“Lady Erridge!” exclaimed the Baroness, as Erridge barged through the door. She sat, sewing as usual, whilst Lady Samient reclined, reading, on the sofa.

Erridge collided with the back of it. “I have the most exciting news!”

Lady Samient pushed herself to sit upright. “What is it?”

“The Commander is in love with Lady Trevelyan!”

The Baroness and Lady Samient glanced at one another.

“Really!” said the Baroness, placing a hand upon her chest. “My, are you certain? How did you discover this?”

Lady Erridge prepared to respond, but was interrupted by Lady Samient:

“Baroness,” she scolded. “I understand you are trying to be kind, but I am afraid it is patronising at best.” She looked to Erridge. “We already know.”

Lady Erridge deflated like a popped pigskin. She stomped over to and collapsed upon her usual seat, ruffles and bows puffing out on impact. “Why did no one tell me?” she complained.

The Baroness gave her a sympathetic smile, and explained, “We did not wish to break your heart.”

“My heart isn’t broken!” Erridge insisted. “In fact, it’s rather full. Lady Trevelyan quite deserves love, and if the Commander is the one who can give it to her, then I will certainly not stand in their way. I think they could be sweet.”

“The only problem is,” said Lady Samient, “Lady Trevelyan does not want his love.”

Lady Erridge sat bolt upright. “Now it is you who is quite behind, Lady Samient! For I would certainly say that Lady Trevelyan holds the Commander in high regard. Why else would she go to such trouble to make him love one of us, if she did not think him worthy of love?”

The Baroness concurred: “I do believe she projects her affection for him so as not to feel it so keenly.”

Lady Samient tipped her head. “Fair. But if that is so, we should not meddle.”

“What?” gasped Erridge. “After all Lady Trevelyan has done for us? I say, from this day on, we use our time with him to make him hers, lest it be rendered useless!”

“That implies there was any use to it in the first place.”

“Lady Samient,” the Baroness chastised, echoing Samient’s own scolding tone. “I do agree with Lady Erridge, we should be encouraging their blossoming affection. However, I do not believe we should be blatant in our efforts. A simple steer, here and there, rather than a forceful push.”

“Such as?” Samient wondered.

“Something at the banquet tomorrow, perhaps.”

“We could have them sit together!” Erridge suggested, applauding her own idea. The Baroness nodded in agreement, pointing her cane at Erridge:

“Exactly that.”

Lady Samient shrugged. “I suppose that is—”

The door opened, and the Ladies silenced themselves at once. With perfect practice, Touledy took up her sewing, Samient returned to her book, and Erridge looked the classic idle noblewoman.

Fortunate they were, for this quick thinking and practiced performance, as the one who walked in was Lady Trevelyan herself. Clearly, she had been through quite the day, if the layer of dust upon her smock was anything to judge by.

“Ladies,” she greeted, before noticing their stares upon her dress. She glanced down, and tutted. “Maker! My apologies—I’ll be but a moment.”

She stepped out of the room, briefly. The slapping of hands against fabric, like the beating of carpet, could be heard through the door. In this momentary respite, Lady Erridge instructed the others:

“Not one word to her, agreed?”

They nodded.

Trevelyan returned, none the wiser. “How do I look now?” she asked.

“Beautiful as ever,” the Baroness told her, to no disagreement. “Though I do hope you have something else to wear to the banquet tomorrow.”

“Ha, naturally,” replied Lady Trevelyan, finding her seat. “I have just seen it to the laundry now, for the creases it sustained during its journey here. Mother had it sent specially from a dressmaker in Denerim.”

“Has the guest list intimidated her so?” Lady Samient teased.

Trevelyan chuckled. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

“Well,” said the Baroness, pulling a stitch taut, “I am eager to hear more of this attire.”

“I do not know what else to say of it,” admitted Trevelyan. “It is a dress. It’s a sort of… plum colour, I suppose. Embroidered, at the edges.”

“Plum? I see.” The Baroness rose, with another set of needles and thread and fabric in her hand. “Lady Erridge,” she said, walking over, “would you sew an elfroot onto this hankerchief, for me? You stitch leaves so beautifully.”

Lady Erridge assented, and raised her hands to accept the task. But the Baroness leant down a little further than she had expected.

“We must find out what the Commander is wearing tomorrow,” Touledy whispered.

“Why?” wondered Erridge.

“Because”—the Baroness winked—“we shall have them match.”

She pulled away and returned to her seat, leaving a starry-eyed Erridge in her wake. How Trevelyan noticed this was hardly in question, given that Lady Erridge, in her reverie, did not even acknowledge the sewing supplies that had just been handed to her, let alone touch them.

“Are you all right, Lady Erridge?” she asked.

“Oh!” Erridge hastily composed herself, snatching up a needle and thread as proof. “I am simply fine, Lady Trevelyan. My excitement stems from thinking of the banquet tomorrow.”

“You think it will be good?”

“No, your Ladyship,” Erridge said with a smile, “I think it shall be perfect!”