#but that's just a minor detail

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, responding to a fan on a live-stream: Steve and I have been together for forever. We’re like… *trying to come up with a famous couple but can only think of Sid and Nancy*

Steve: Romeo and Juliet…except we didn’t kill each other

Eddie: They don’t kill each other.

Steve: Uh, pretty sure they did.

Eddie:

Eddie: Am I-

Steve: You’re not Romeo. Only one of us can climb a balcony and it’s not you.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Also I’m pretty sure someone has said this before but when you first start the alone mission and Soap is changing through channels of his radio you hear a shadow say “we need reinforcements in the North Plaza now!” just a little bit before Ghost answers Soap, showing where he was in relation to Soap.

It a fun detail, especially considering that soap had a head start in running towards Las Almas over Ghost, meaning Ghost is super fast and that Soap was lagging behind because of his wound.

It also shows how skilled Ghost is on his own. You need reinforcement because of one man? Just one?

Yeah, I’d be pretty terrified too.

[assiraphales]

at this point someone should just start a new production company called the graveyard & supporters can vote for what cancelled series to “unearth” and “resurrect”. if they can’t get the rights they just make a ‘parody’. their logo is a necromancer

[canisalbus]

My backgrounds are currently the beach art because it's seasonally appropriate (please ignore that cursed ass playlist cover)

.

[hood-ex]

Thinking about how Donna said Dick's been on the go since he was 9. And before that, Dick was working in the circus. He's worked as long as he's been able to, and it isn't in him to stop. Sure, he may have breaks or periods of life where he's knocked off course, but in the end, he'll always take up the call.

[thesunisatangerine]

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

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: implied sexual content

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

word count: 2.5k

You weren’t sure what woke you at first but when you opened your eyes, you found the brilliant, early morning light that streamed through a crack in the curtains. Groaning, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, not missing the unmistakable rustling of clothes somewhere at the foot of the bed. 

Peeking over the sheets to the source of the sound, you found Ale working to put her pants back on, her bare back to you. You propped yourself against the headboard as you watched on, biting your lip at how Ale’s tattoos deliciously shifted over her rippling muscles. She picked something up from the floor before she turned towards the bed and you caught sight of the darkening marks on her neck and chest. When she saw you looking at her, she smiled, a little bashful, which you returned in kind.

“What time is it?” You cringed at how you croaked out the words.

“Early. You should go back to sleep.” Ale said, putting her bra on as she kept your gaze.

You hummed. “I could say the same for you.”

Ignoring what she said you sat up on the bed, allowing the sheets to slide down and settle by your waist as you stretched. Ale’s eyes wandered to your chest which, you supposed, bore the same marks you could see on hers, and you relished the attention. Once she found your eyes again, you sent her a knowing smirk before you left the bed, headed to the closet where you grabbed the nearest fresh shirt you had, and tossed it to Ale. 

Without even looking at the shirt, she caught it with ease. You raised your brow, both in question and in wonder. In response, Ale just smiled innocently at you. Ale pulled the shirt over her head, hiding the marks from view, then she moved towards you, her eyes dark and shining with intent.

Your body remembered last night’s endeavours before you did: every nerve in your skin lit up in anticipation for Ale’s touch, a fuse waiting for a spark. She laced an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to her front with a strength that left you breathless, her clothed body firm against your bare flesh. Without your heels she almost towered over you that you had to stand on your toes to wrap your arms around her neck. You closed your eyes when you felt the words she spoke against your temple.

“As much as I’d love to stay, I have to go.”

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment. But what did you expect? You knew what you were getting into last night–you knew this was meant to only be a one-time thing. Besides, you were never one for relationships anyway; all your dalliances were brief and fleeting, ending before they ever got serious. Still, something about Ale pulled you to her, a force that compelled a desire to get to know her. The logical part of you already accepted the fact that you’d probably never see her again after this, but a small part of you wanted to rebel and resist that fate. 

Unsurprisingly, logic won out.

“I shouldn’t keep you, then,” you whispered against her collarbone. Ale shivered and that made you smile: it’s good to know you weren’t the only one still feeling the effects from the previous night.

“You’re not making this easy,” she whined and you laughed. 

“Alright, alright. I guess it’s time for me to let you go.”

There was a moment of silence but not an uncomfortable one. You looked at her, soaked in how her features caught the morning light, how her fair hazel eyes almost appeared like twin golden suns. You were tempted to kiss her lips then but you settled for a chaste one on her cheek instead. “Keep the shirt, to remember me by and… a thank you for last night. It was wonderful.”

“I had a good time, too,” she hummed, a small smile on her lips. 

You returned her smile, and then you gently pushed her away as you took a step back. “Go, Ale.”

Ale stood there for a moment more, took one last look at you, gave you one last smile and she was out of the bedroom. When you heard the front door shut, you sighed again as something akin to regret settled in your bones. Maybe you should’ve at least asked for her number…

“So… did you have fun?” A deep voice filtered through the speaker before you saw the familiar mop of blonde hair and blue eyes on your screen. You rolled your eyes at his dry tone but you smiled nonetheless.

“Oh hi, Derek, I’m doing fine! Thank you for asking!”

Derek gave you an unimpressed look. “Come on. I need details cause that club was exclusive for a reason. So, did you hook up with someone?”

“Dude, stop! That’s so–” you shook your head, a palm over your face. You swore if he wasn’t family you would’ve… you breathed through your nose. “Thank you for the pass and everything but I’m not obligated to tell you shit.”

“Fine, I see how it is. Just ‘cause I’m not there you’re keeping secrets from me now, huh?” He raised an exaggerated eyebrow. 

“Then maybe you should’ve come here with me,” you retorted with faux annoyance. “What’s the point of you owning a house in Barcelona if you’re not going to use it? It’s literally rotting here! The fact that you haven’t even put any personal things in here is criminal!”

“And let this agency burn down to the ground while both of us are away? Pfft, yeah, right!” Derek scoffed. “You know it’s either you or me who can keep watch around here. Besides, the house can wait and you’re using it now, right? So, a win-win in my book.”

He was right but you weren’t about to tell him that so you opted to change the topic. “How are things on your end anyway?”

“Chaotic, as usual. And it doesn’t help we’re now down two–actually, three including you–of our best in the Spot News department.”

At that, you sat up from the couch, alarm and dread filled your body and you brought the phone closer to you. “Oh my god, did something happen?” 

Derek sighed heavily, his demeanour clouded over as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was Jones and Gilda–they’re stable, don’t worry!–they got caught in a flash flood on the way to the base at their area. Sick with some minor injuries, Jones more so than Gilda, but thankfully they’re both okay.”

At that, you breathed out in relief. You were well acquainted with the dangers that came with your job but you could never get used to how quickly a situation could get from bad to worse. The mere thought was enough to turn your hands cold. 

“When did this happen?”

“Early morning today in our timezone.”

“Oh, fuck. Derek, why didn’t you call me?!”

“Dude, you’re on leave. And it’s not that I didn’t want to let you know, I just wasn’t about to wake you up in the middle of the night to give you this headache. I’m just about done with the paperworks anyway.” A moment silence, then Derek sighed. “You really chose the worst time to go on leave. You know, I had to send Jersey to start covering Spot.”

“Not my fault you authorised it. I was happy to wait another month, remember? Wait, so if Jersey is doing Spot, who’s doing Sports?”

“I know, I know, don’t remind me ‘cause I’m already regretting it. And no one’s doing it. Spot coverage is more important but–”

“–we get a decent sum from Sports, too,” you finished for him. You did some quick estimation in your head: a month or two without Sports could prove costly, too great of a sum to let go. You hummed, rubbing your chin, but it didn’t take you long to realise that you could help out, your mind immediately fleeted to your conversation with Ale and her suggestion.

“I’ll cover it, Derek.”

“No. You’re supposed to be enjoying your leave–”

“Derek.” You fixed a stern gaze at him, the one you knew that he knew meant your mind was made up. Then you proceeded to reassure him that it was fine, and then you told him about your plan. “Alright, then, I’ll leave the press passes to you.”

“I’ll e-mail them to you once I get ‘em, most likely by tonight your time. I–” 

“Derek, you got to see–” Another voice filtered through the speaker while you watched as Derek turned his head to the side and held his hand up to whoever it was before returning his focus back to you.

“Okay, as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, Robert just brought me a huge stack of paper so I’m going to bail.” 

“Alright. Have fun, you. Talk to you later.”

“Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, thank you.”

“No worries. Kiss Mom for me when you see her.”

“I will. Love you, sis.”

“I love you, too.”

After calling Jones and Gilda to ask about their condition and to send them your well wishes, you decided to spend the rest of your day at the nearby square and the beach. A day as good as this wasn’t meant to be wasted by staying inside so you grabbed several rolls of film and your beloved Leica camera before heading out. 

It was already late afternoon when you found yourself trudging along the shoreline of one of Barcelona’s beaches, appreciating the orange-tinged skies and how the gulls called from above. When you looked to the horizon, you found a mother and her little daughter paddle-boarding just a hundred meters from the shore. You could see almost no details in the shadows of their silhouette but the large setting sun framed them in such a way that you felt to take a shot of the moment. So you adjusted your aperture accordingly, pressed the viewfinder against your brow, lined up your shot, and pressed the shutter.

“I thought you looked familiar… And I was right.”

Your thumb froze over the advance lever when you heard someone speak from somewhere behind you. That voice… could it be?

You whipped your head over your shoulder and found none other than Ale standing there. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a white opened blouse that put her toned abs and Nike sports bra on display, loose hair slightly damp, with a leash in one hand that lead to a small, fluffy dog. She also had on a pair of black wraparound sunglasses that she moved to the top of her head, revealing her hazel eyes that captivated your gaze immediately.

You could hardly believe your eyes and your luck; you already accepted her fleeting presence in your life but to meet her again in a city as big as Barcelona without any means of contact… that surely was nothing short of a miracle.

“Ale, hi! I–I never thought I’d see you again,” you said after you finally found your voice but as soon as the words left your mouth, your cheeks warmed. What were you supposed to say to a one night stand in this situation, especially when you clearly wanted it to happen again?

“Me neither. I should thank Nala for dragging me out here.” Ale grinned as she glanced down at her dog by her feet. You crooned as you bent down, then you offered your hand first and only after Nala licked your knuckles did you proceed to pet her.

“Thank you, Nala, for taking your owner for a walk.” At that, a hearty laugh came from Ale which caused Nala, who seemed to be overjoyed by the sound of her owner’s delight, to yip and wag her tail. And just as quickly as she had, she seemed to get bored and began to bound forward, urging Ale to move as well so you stood up, brushed the sand from your palms, and fell in step with her. 

For a moment, the space between you was filled by the sound of the waves, the sound of the shifting sand beneath your feet, and the ever-bustling noise from the city. Then you recalled your conversation with Derek this morning.

“I thought about what you said, about covering women’s football. I’m going to be given a press pass for a match, not sure which one they’ll give me, though. But do you know of any big matches coming up?”

“Really? That’s great! Do you have any particular team in mind or…?”

“Research is still on my to-do list so no, not really. I’m all ears for suggestions, though.”

“I see. Well, there is this match coming up: Real Madrid and Barcelona. Since you don’t know, there’s rivalry between the two teams so any match between them tends to get crowded. You should come watch.” 

“That sounds like a good one. I hope that’s what they’ll get me into. Will you be there?”

“I hope so, too. And yes, I’ll be there.” As she said this, her eyes shone with a glint not dissimilar to what you saw in them the night you met. Her lips tilted to the side, closed but quirked at the corners like she was holding in a laugh. If it weren’t already clear that night, it was now–you were definitely missing something here.

“What?” You asked, confused. What was she not telling you? But at the question, Ale only let out a small giggle, grinning as she did so.

“Nothing, nothing,” she said, shaking her head. You didn’t believe her but you let it slide one more time and the fact that she looked so distracting didn’t help either.

She had her head turned to you, her loose hair framed her face and strands fluttered in the cool, ocean breeze. You had to tilt your head up slightly to meet her eyes and, without any bidding, memories from that night and the morning after filtered through your mind: the way she held you against her, the way you wanted her to stay… maybe you should ask her if she was free tonight.

“–what do you have in mind?”

You blinked. “What?”

Ale threw her head back, letting out another hearty laugh before she looked at you and you saw amusement swimming in her eyes. Then, she continued with a smirk, “you asked if I was free tonight. I said yes. Or… was I not meant to hear that?”

Your ears and cheeks burnt while you internally cursed your slippery tongue.  That was smooth. Real smooth. “Ummm…”

You woke the next morning with a delicious soreness between your thighs, a pleasant reminder of the way Ale ravished you last night. Similar to the first morning after, you heard the rustling of clothes being put on. But before you could fully open your eyes, warmth from Ale’s lips branded the skin on your shoulder. 

“I have to go. See you next time?” Ale murmured softly. You shifted slightly to the side and you saw how the sunlight behind her gilded her hair with an amber halo and made her eyes appear like molten gold. 

Brushing a loose strand behind her ear, you hummed in confirmation and pressed your forehead sleepily against the sharp line of her jaw, closing your eyes as you did so and you whispered, “you know where to find me.”

[emdotcom]

Yeah, so while I was on my "I'm going to read into Vanny/Vanessa as much as possible" journey, I noticed an odd quirk in her animations in how she moves. At first, I thought it reminded me of a ballerina, 'cause she's kinda tip-toeing, & she has this way of keeping her head & chest in one place as she moves, but I looked again & realized --

That's not ballet! She's doing a tight-rope act. Like, look at this one:

This is like standing up on the wooden boards before you do the actual tight-rope walking, & the ring leader is hyping you up as you do some fun movement for the crowds. &, then, these:

These are all instances where she walks with one foot directly in front of the other. In that third, she's doing the "woaaah" wiggly-ass balance movements & everything, as if she's swaying up at the top of the tent, even though she's down on solid ground.

Idk, I feel like the way her feet are placed isn't accurate (pretty sure they should be pointed left & right, not both forwards...) doesn't make this 100% correct, but I like it. It also connects back with her first SB teaser, wherein she's up in the rafters.

[casualavocados]

An idiot like you...an idiot like you...

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 9

[greasy-night-rat]

Hondo: Not a stranger to cosplay, but not used to coworkers seeing him in cosplay Bear: Way more into it then he expected he'd be Tiger: Super chill with it. Likes the breeze Don: Not quite sure if he hates it or loves it. (Carman Approves)

[Individuals under the cut]

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[someiicecube]

I still meant what I said in that reply to the height chart though, lmao

It might be 3am here, but the thought of the player being able to choose their height in game for added flavored dialogue has been in my noggin since last year.

It won't change too much of the dialogue, but it's just enough to make the experience feel a bit more personalized.

Imagine being an extremely short MC that has to break their neck every time they have to meet Kuras' gaze. Imagine the look Mhin gives you if you dare call them short.

Imagine being a tall MC peering over people's heads, and most importantly, being so close in height with Ais provides you the best look into his eyes when you're hiding in a shady alley together.

Oh, but imagine being average height in that scene and choosing to look forward only presents you with a wall of man tiddies.

Not to mention that one Mhin scene where they pin you against the wall and, despite their small stature, manage to lift you off your feet by the collar? Like, okay? How would they, 168cm, do that with a theoretical 187cm MC? Hm?

Like, I need me that—

"Their fist curled, white knuckled into the front of your clothing."

if player_height == very_short or short or average:

"And with surprising strength, they lift you off your feet and against the wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs."

elif player_height == tall or very tall:

"And with surprising strength, they shove you against the wall, knocking the breath out of your lungs."

[neallo]

this is from a post i don't think i agree with the bulk of anyway, but here's a small detail that i nevertheless want to quibble on:

watari very much did not send information to wammy's!! in fact, the function of "the big red button (trademark pending)" was to delete absolutely all the information on the case.

furthermore, none of L's progress was passed on to mello or near; it is stated very plainly that near had to collect information on his own for several years before forming the SPK. the reason roger knows about L's death is that there is a countdown on one of the computers L owns which will send a message to wammy's if he does not use it / reset the timer for long enough. this is why, though L dies on November 5th, the successors aren't told of his death until December 5th.

[britcision]

Someone confiscate the Kabumisu Rapunzel AU from me, I am not starting a long form anything until my DPxDC novel is done but also I am ONLY capable of doing it wrong

Because:

Kabru MUST be Rapunzel. Mandatory. Milsiril is not letting that little bitch out of her tower. (Also his Main Character Energy)

Mithrun has less than zero drive to do anything ever up to and including wandering around in lonely tower infested woods to find said lost princess

These can only be resolved by Mithrun also already being inside the tower and then we’re into Beauty and The Beast territory too with the Forbidden Room but instead of Cursed Flower there is Cursed Hottie

Tbh Labrumisu would solve this problem where’s my threesome shippers we need ONE (1) character with some goddamn initiative

(Sadly still can’t be me I do not ship Laios in general he’s just not got that Ship Juice)

Milsiril just has such perfect villain vibes and okay I’m selling myself on the Labrumisu because if Laios comes in to kidnap one of her babies (and her broken former coworker) there’s a 50-50 on whether Milsiril just decides he’s young enough to adopt

This is now a main character hoarding situation Falin and Marcille have to come rescue Laios and also his boyfriends from the crazy sword elf and her army of dolls

Which is why I can’t write this one.

Look at that.

Look what happened in like 5 bullet points.

The rails have been OBLITERATED but also it’s just got such good legs someone take this idea and run with it to somewhere very different and much simpler than I am capable of

[fyodior]

could you be my star always? 💫

AKA HAN NOAH X FLORA FOREVER AND EVER!!!!! so much love to @/luvluvluv06 on twt for making my delulu dreams come tru🤍

[chikahoshi]

I commissioned @tikklil from Twitter/Instagram again to draw 42 Miles/42 Gwen based off @bloody-writing's fic Tonight You Belong To Me. This fic is the reason why I ship them so hard, so I think it's only fitting that I commission fanart inspired by this fic as a thank you. Hopefully, I can do some more commissions based on this fic because there are scenes that I really think is worth seeing illustrated. So fingers crossed. (As a disclaimer, I did get permission to post the commission here.)

[thesunisatangerine]

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

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, angst (i'm sorry)

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

word count: 3.2k

Today’s the day you were going to talk to Alexia about it. 

You had about two weeks left of your additional three weeks and with each passing day, your stay in Barcelona was drawing to a close and Alexia knew it, too. During the period of time you’d gotten to know her to now, Alexia’d put in the same effort in trying to get to know what you did outside of sports photojournalism. You’d told her, of course, and even showed her photos of your previous photojournalistic coverage, although you’d kept the more graphic ones away from her.

Despite the fact that she had jokingly tried to convince you to stay in sports photojournalism, Alexia had been nothing but supportive of your job. The thing was, she just didn’t know yet what it was you’d be returning to: you just got word that you–among other colleagues–were bound to head over to a conflict zone in a region going through civil unrest and military aggression. But it wasn’t like the thought never crossed your mind. 

Sports photography had been a welcome reprieve from the violence and depravity that came with human conflict, a typical scene to witness while on the field. And although unplanned, Alexia had played a part in your enjoyment with this side-project–so much so that it was on top of your list for alternative careers down the line. Be that as it may, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t trade your current career for anything else. 

This was what you wanted to talk to Alexia about. Well… among other things but you wanted to ease her into the conversation with a home-cooked meal and a gift. Even though it was difficult to do with Alexia around, you were able to finish making the latter a few days ago. The gift was something similar to the one she gave you: a bracelet with the colors of the flag of your country and instead of a diamond, you used a small, silver, hollow rectangular charm to represent you and your camera. And with that dealt with, you only needed to grab the ingredients for the former which brought you out to Mercat del Centre on this fine Barcelona highnoon. 

With paper bags of groceries in hand, you were thinking of grabbing something from that sushi place you’d passed on the way to the market but just as you turned the corner, you saw three women walking ahead a few paces away with their backs turned to you. 

They were all wearing matching tank shirts, shorts, and ankle socks but the one with the cap stood out to you and instantly, you recognised it to be Alexia. Knowing that and from the Barcelona matches that you’d been to, you recognised that it was Mapi and Patri flanking her. 

Excitement filled you immediately although you wondered for a second what they were doing there until you realised that Estadi Johan Cruyff was only a few blocks away. The instinct to call out Alexia’s name and reach out for her didn’t go unnoticed by you but you managed to stop yourself in time before you accidentally did.

The both of you never really talked about where the both of you stood and there was no clear label for the nature of your relationship. If someone had asked you this when you just met her over two months ago, the answer would’ve been clear; it was merely physical with a dose of infatuation. Now, it was more than just sex to you: you wanted her in every possible way, you wanted to know and to be known by her, you wanted to be the person she’d tell about the most mundane of things to–to be the person she’d allow to fall for her because you already know you were on the brink of falling. So apart from your job situation, this question was the other half of the conversation you wanted to have with her.

Though you meant to go to the same direction, you didn’t want to risk Alexia noticing you not because you didn’t want her to or that you were afraid she’d ignore you–no, you just didn’t want to accidentally interrupt her time with her teammates. She’d come to you later anyway so you’d just tell her about this then. You were just about to turn around when something in their conversation got your attention. 

“So, Ale, are you dating that photographer?” Patri asked, her question oozed of mischief. 

“What photographer?” Alexia replied with a flat tone.

Mapi snickered. “You’re too smart to play dumb and when you do it on purpose you just sound stupid.”

For that, she got a punch to the shoulder from Alexia but Mapi only giggled. 

“Fine, fine. And, no, I’m not.”

“Oh, come on, Ale! If she’s not, then why does she always take the best photos of you? Right, Patri?” Mapi whined.

“Exactly! Oh, remember those matches when you weren’t even on the pitch? And the way she always looks at you after a match? I’d say that’s something!” Then as if she just had an epiphany, Patri’s eyes widened, hand clapping over her opened mouth. “Wait! Unless…”

Patri didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her suggestive tone was enough to communicate what she meant by it and your ears burnt at the implication. 

“Oh, shit. Are you, you know?” Mapi exclaimed, finally catching on, eyes just as wide as Patri’s. 

“Keep your voices down, assholes,” Alexia growled in annoyance then she grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear. In response, the other two women just laughed.

“Love you, too, Cap,” Mapi said in a saccharine tone.

Alexia sighed. “Okay. Yes. Are you happy now?”

The other two women hooted and patted Alexia on the back.

“Ha! I knew it!” Patri exclaimed.

“Do you like her though?” Mapi’s question stilled your breath as you anticipated Alexia’s answer.

“No,” Alexia shook her head and she shrugged. “She means nothing to me.”

“Ouch! Not even considering dating?” 

“I can’t deal with that right now.”

“Damn… So does that mean she’s one of your girls, then? And here I thought you finally stopped.”

“I’m not even going to answer that.”

You didn’t hear anything after that. Alexia’s words rooted you to the spot and you watched as the three of them walked on. 

She means nothing to me. She’s one of your girls. She means nothing to me. She’s…

Those same words echoed in your mind in a ruthless cycle but what stuck to you the most was the way Alexia said them. You’d never heard her that cold… that detached. Your hands shook, a chill ran up your spine and you shivered while the world blurred in front of you.

You brought a hand to your eyes and felt warm tears on your fingers.

Oh.

And without even asking you got the answer to your question. 

––––––

The moment Alexia stepped foot into the house that night, you grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket and pulled her down for a searing kiss. She gasped in surprise as you pushed her against the door and you took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, your fingers now tangled in her hair while your front was pressed firmly against her.

It wasn’t enough.

You bit and tugged her lower lip before you nipped a path along her jaw down to the base of her throat where you sucked at her pulse point. Her muscles responded and rippled beneath your palms when you traced their lines along her sides and stomach under her shirt while Alexia gasped and moaned from your touch. 

It wasn’t enough.

By the time the both of you reached the bed, you’d stripped Alexia off her clothes. She landed on her back on the bed when you pushed her, gasping as she did so, and you immediately crawled on top of her. Wasting no time, you sucked and marked the expanse of skin in front of you: her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach. You nipped and bit as Alexia writhed and keened beneath you.

It wasn’t enough. 

When you felt her large hands along your sides trying to tug the hem of your shirt to strip it off you, you grabbed her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head–a rejection to her offer, one that you never thought you’d do around Alexia. But just the thought of being completely naked made you shudder, and not in a good way. So you pressed a bare leg against her core to distract her to which Alexia keenly responded to by arching against you while her wetness burnt like a brand against your skin there. 

It wasn’t enough. 

When Alexia cried out your name while your fingers worked deep in her core, neck straining and muscles tensing, the pit in your chest only seemed to yawn wider and dug deeper. 

It wasn’t enough. 

When Alexia clung to you as she dozed off with her soft breath caressing your clothed stomach, tears burnt in the corners of your eyes as you watched her glow in her slumber, so peaceful and beautiful. Emotions bubbled in the base of your throat, a string of words coiled themselves tighter around your tongue, but something else burnt in your throat that you found difficult to swallow. 

In your desperation to get closer–to make Alexia forget about whoever else that she was sleeping with–you’d used sex as a tool for possession not for intimacy, and the streak of shame that that knowledge left behind pained you more than you could ever thought it could. You weren’t like this. This wasn’t a person you wanted to become, especially when it came with Alexia.

But… you wanted more.

You wanted so much more. 

But wasn’t this what you already convinced yourself of? Deep down, you knew all too well that this was too good to be true–too good of a love to be yours. 

You brushed away a lock of blonde hair from Alexia’s temple, admiring the strong slope of her nose, the fierce slant of her eyebrows, the gentle curves of her eyelids, the elegant bow of her lips. You soaked as much of her as you could because this would be the last time you’d be able to see her like this.

It was a blur, the journey back from the marketplace to the house earlier today, and your mind was a cacophony of words but a single thought was in clarity: you needed to leave. So the moment you got back, you did two things: you emailed Derek and booked your flight home.

There were no details included in the email you sent to your brother as to why you were coming back early–it was extremely unprofessional but an apology was the only thing you could come up with. You’d never not seen a project through to the end no matter the circumstance but this was different; you felt as though you were more equipped to navigate mortal peril than this dance with Alexia so leaving was the only option. 

Tomorrow at midnight, you’d be gone, two weeks ahead of schedule. You didn’t know if Alexia would get here tomorrow before you depart but that was a question for then. For now, you would allow yourself to savour this moment when Alexia was still right here beside you for the final time.

You brought one of her hand to your lips and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles.

A line from a poem fleeted through your mind.

these, our bodies, possessed by light

––––––

Everything was already packed by the time early evening came and even though the caretaker was scheduled to come early tomorrow, you  made a point to check around for anything important you might have forgotten and to ensure you’d sufficiently tidied up after yourself. Finally satisfied, you went downstairs and just after you ordered an Uber to take you to the airport, a knock came to the door and the door handle turned.

Shit.

“Hey, the door’s unlocked! Look, I didn’t know what you wanted to eat since you didn’t text me back so I just grabbed us some–”

Alexia’s voice floated into the room and as she passed through the doorway with her bag of takeaways in one hand, she stopped in her tracks as she saw you and your luggage. Then her face turned cloudy, concern and a question in her eyes.

Her hair was still damp, cheeks still flushed from training, and you longed to reach out to tuck that loose hair behind her ear but instead, you clenched your fists at your sides as you watched her mouth open a few times before she seemed to finally settle on what to say.

“Is… everything alright?” She regarded your luggage for a moment longer before she met your eyes again.

“Yes.” 

It was only one word but your voice trembled nonetheless, and you hated that it did. Alexia’d must have heard something in your tone because her brows furrowed even further as understanding began to seep in. 

“You’re–” Alexia’s throat bobbed, “you’re leaving now?”

“Yes.”

As each second passed, you could see the way Alexia’s walls began to climb.

“You said it’s not until after two weeks–” 

“I lied.” 

At that, the remaining warmth in her eyes flitted away and left her hazel eyes flat and cold. Then she scoffed, hurt clear in her voice when she asked, “were you even planning to say goodbye?”

A heavy silence settled in the air; an answer in and of itself. You could feel the distance between the both of you widen as the moment stretched on, the air so thick from tension it hurt to even breathe. Then a notification from your phone disrupted the quiet and it gave you an excuse to divert your eyes from Alexia’s.

Your Uber just arrived. You sent the driver a quick message to wait, that you’d pay them for the time, before you faced the music again. Clearing your throat, you moved to get the paper bag addressed to ‘Ale’ from the counter–the one you originally planned to leave by the door once you’d left–then you stood just out of arm’s reach from Alexia and offered her the bag. 

“Before I forget, here.”

Alexia’s eyes bore into yours before she eventually dragged them down to the bag in your hand. She placed the takeaways beside her feet before she grabbed the bag in your hand, her fingertips brushed against the skin of your knuckles and you fought the urge to flinch away.

You watched as she peered inside and you bit your lip as you hoped she wouldn’t see the pictures and the letters you wrote; it was bad enough she got here before you left to begin with, how much worse could this get if she saw them in front of you. Oh, how you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Once she stuck her hand inside to grab something, you held your breath. Then you saw the way her jaws worked at what she found inside. She lifted it enough for you to catch a glimpse of it over the edge of the bag: blue and scarlet, her Barcelona jersey. 

Alexia sucked in a breath, ragged, before she breathed out with a trembling voice. “Oh.”

“I did promise I was going to return it.”

She looked up at you, her eyes now glazed over and you were sure with the way your eyes burnt that yours were just as red. 

“Why?”

There were so many ways you could answer her question, the words because I could fall in love with you were poised at the tip of your tongue but you bit it off before they could slip out and leave you more vulnerable than you already were.

“Because… it was fun while it lasted. No strings attached, right?” The words sounded so cruel to you and immediately, you wanted to take them back. To reduce those moments with her and the memories that were now permanently a part of you to a passing fling felt abysmally wrong. You wanted nothing more than to step into her embrace, to tell her how much she’d come to mean to you, to tell her that you could fall for her if she’d just let you… but you never really had a chance did you? You knew that now and you couldn’t keep pretending you didn’t want more. 

Alexia’s jaw worked again as her chin quivered, her tongue skimmed over the corner of her lips, a habit you noticed she did when she was upset–whenever she wanted to stop herself from crying. 

“Is this it, then?” She whispered the question and at that, a tear fell down your cheek.

“I guess it is.” 

And in the silence that followed, as if guided by an invisible force, your hand began to reach out for Alexia but your presence of mind came back to you and you quickly retracted it. Instead, you grabbed your two bags and began to head out the door. You passed by her and you were already a few steps away when you heard Alexia speak.

“Will I ever see you again?”

You knew she knew the answer to it; you knew she wanted you to say otherwise.

You didn’t turn back when you said, “goodbye, Alexia. Take care of yourself.”

––––––

The flight back home was nothing short of a fever dream: one minute you were at Barcelona-El Prat Airport nursing your head in one of the bathroom stalls as you cried, the next your plane was touching down at your home country’s landing strip. 

Derek was there to pick you up and he looked like he was about to bombard you with questions but upon seeing the state of you, his gaze softened, brows furrowing in concern and there–in place of your business partner from a moment ago–was your brother. 

He pulled you into a tight hug and you closed your eyes revelling in his comforting scent while you willed yourself not to cry. Although his arms brought solace to your aching heart, the ones you longed to hold you belonged to someone who was a thousand miles away. 

Over the next few days following your arrival, you ignored everything and went off the grid, deleting the social media apps on your phone lest the temptations would convince you to check how Alexia was doing. So instead, you busied yourself with catching up with your mother and your friends, and buried yourself with work while Derek hovered in the background, protective and concerned but respectfully giving you time to come around and tell him what happened. 

You told yourself you would–that it could wait a little longer. But you never got around to it because the next thing you knew, you, Gilda, and Jones were on air to the conflict zone for journalistic coverage. Once your plane landed, the current malaise from your personal life seemed infinitesimal for it was nothing compared to the afflictive catastrophe of war.