#this is going to be a long reread lol

[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.’

[lyctorism]

going insane thinking about the paralleled relationships of palamedes’ fondness for harrow and camilla’s fondness of gideon. and their respective simularities! harrow being jealous of gideon mooning over dulcinea. camilla being jealous of palamedes being in love with dulcinea since he was 8. camilla being fond of gideon after realizing gideon also has a melodramatic necromancer. palamedes and harrow’s “necromantic pissing contest”. gideon and camilla’s love of swords. palamedes “I'm the greatest necromancer of my generation”, harrow “like hell you are”. palamedes suiciding detonating himself to take out cytherea. gideon suiciding throwing herself on spikes to send harrow full lyctor to take out cytherea. palamedes “i miss harrow terribly” sextus. harrow “i can’t envision a universe without you in it” nonagesimus, camilla “life is too short and love is too long” hect. gideon “you’ll know what to do” nav, palamedes “she knows what to do” sextus. crazy! crazy insane! thinking about them

[koobiie]

fanart for what may be my favorite fic of all time, Running Behind by @asidian! here's prompto enjoying all the foods from the fic beacuse he deserves it <3

[beaulesbian]

I was only today years old when I realized that Trafalgar Law's names are probably references to two battles that led in our real life history to a certain emperor (Napoleon)'s defeat.

*arrives 10 years late with a meta post because of a realization*

uhh Dressrosa spoilers, I guess.

Trafalgar and Waterloo... Water Law.

In One Piece world that emperor being Doflamingo, who suffered two major loses thanks to Law's existence:

First being cca 13 years ago from the main storyline - at the Minion Island where Corazon managed to get the Op-op devil fruit for Law and saving his life from Doflamingo. On that island, Doflamingo lost both Corazon and the devil fruit he wanted to much to get his hands on, as well as Law, someone who he wanted to use as the sacrifice to get the immortality via the devil fruit's powers.

Tbh I haven't really heard about the Trafalgar battle before today. When I first heard about Trafalgar Law as character while I started to read One Piece only cca 5 months ago, I only thought "huh, isn't that a square in England, I was there on a trip once" but didn't look more into it now.

So I just skimmed throught the wiki pages of those battles, I don't know all the details, I don't want to compare it too much, but some maybe similarities/parallels that piqued my interest:

The Battle of Trafalgar were the spanish-france forces against english navy, and Donquixote/Dressrosa arc including all those spanish themes, as well as Law being from the North Blue (where Sanji and Mont Blanc Noland are/were also from) being a bit influenced by France, plays interesting role when this happened in North Blue as a prelude to what would 13 years later happen in Dressrosa (the birdcage, Doflamingo's rule, the puppets, etc).

This part of the Trafalgar battle describing the british was at first outnumbered, that the spanish had more ships along with one of their biggest one:

reminded me of how Corazon himself faced with the whole Donquixote family, including Doflamingo:

and some more interesting similarities how the "hero" of the battle died even before it ended:

but thanks to his informations, the Navy later arrived, and Law got away.

(even on the wiki of the Trafalgar battle there were mentions of some false informations, previous pursuits of the ships and admirals etc, so that vibe kind of fits.)

I haven't read much about the Waterloo battle, except how known it is for being the final defeat of Napoleon, by Coalition armies - which would nicely parallel to Law and Luffy starting their own Alliance during Dressrosa, and thanks to that it caused for Luffy to be there to beat Doflamingo once and for all.

Some other small details I noticed:

The Don Quixote book was apparently first published in two parts, one in 1605 and the other in 1615.

The battle of Trafalgar happened in 1805, and the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

I found one person even connecting the date when was published the chapter of Doflamingo's deafeat in Dressrosa - 18th of June, 2015, which is the same date only 200 years later after Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo.

I love that in some sense both battles have in common water, and for the One Piece world that is connected with pirates and ships - with the historical aspects the battle of Trafalgar being a naval battle, and Waterloo for the Water in Trafalgar D. Water Law - he concealed his full name from Doflamingo for all those years, his secret name as well as the will of the Ds. - for our world a possible reference if one looks more that he really was meant to be Doflamingo's downfall.

There's just something beautiful about Law's whole existence to be a sort of a foretelling of the fall of one of the emperors of the sea, just by having these names. And it's not just the names of his, but the parallels to the situations and results of the incidents taking place at those locations.

It's literally a middle finger to Doflamingo:

[sysig]

Wouldn’t want him getting lost now, would we (Patreon)

[ofliterarynature]

An eclectic little birthday haul (sponsored by my mom <3)

[animalsandskyyy]

being homeschooled means not being able to feel normal or at ease when interacting with peers.

it means never learning how to casually text or speak within groups of people.

it means being great with authority figures or people you deem above or more adult than you, but being completely unable to communicate with anyone your age you'd want to be friends with.

it means desperately wanting to befriend people you've met in life and follow online but failing to do so, and then having every time you see them cause you to grieve the possibility of a friendship with them because you desperately want it but know you're incapable of it.

it means being severely behind in pop culture and not really being mad at that, but still knowing that it causes an even further divide.

it means going from being extremely mature as a teenager to being extremely behind in a social life in your twenties.

[roobylavender]

Hi! i once saw a post (that I cannot find atm) comparing how Bruce and Ollie reacted to Jason/Mia killing a man, or in Jason‘s case possibly killing a man and the differences in their reactions. I have yet to read arrowfam material so I was hoping you’d talk more about it! :)

oh i found it! (i’m the jason/mia & bruce/ollie anon) https://www.tumblr.com/redhoodinternaldialectical/735180956729835520/you-are-entirely-correct-i-cut-a-whole-ass truthfully i didn’t really the whole thread only the jason/mia part but i’m v curious on ur thoughts on this :)

luckily for you i read the whole thread (which i do think is relevant to the question) and this is a great reminder of why taking editorial context into account when analyzing comics is so important! the unfortunate problem with the visibility attributed to a death in the family is that it obscures not only that starlin was only the fourth writer responsible (after barr, collins, and duffy) for characterizing post-crisis jason and his relationship with bruce, but also that starlin specifically wrote his batman run with a disdain for the robin character in mind. when you read dc #573–74, 79–82 / batman #408–13 versus batman #416–28 there's a really stark distinction in tone and atmosphere. although bruce has always tended towards discipline and principle he's also someone primarily driven by empathy. that shows in the barr / collins / duffy stretch because they're fans of the batman-robin dynamic to begin with. so you get scenes like this in batman #411

or dc #581

where bruce certainly expressed disappointment and reprimand initially but eventually mellowed out because he sympathized with and values jason's grief over losing his father. dc #581 strikes me in particular because bruce didn't have to offer harvey to jason after what the latter said earlier about leaving him for dead. but he knew the closure was important and decided to offer harvey to him anyway. there was always an emphasis on reciprocated dialogue taking place between bruce and jason in these issues whereas i think many people would agree the starlin run was comparatively characterized by bruce talking at jason or for jason but not necessarily with him. here's dc #425 for example

although starlin stopped short of painting jason to be outright evil he generally didn't offer him much sympathy as a character either. there was this constant undercurrent throughout the run of jason being talked down to and his personal emotions and experiences being diminished in the face of the mask when that is precisely what the barr / collins / duffy run didn't do. these writers were invested in and enamored with jason's personal life and they wanted to see him grow not only as robin but as his own person contending with complex trauma and grief. and way we ended up at a death in the family was comparatively ironic because starlin specifically refused to address jason's trauma until it was absolutely necessary and convenient to shaping an ultimate exit for the character. i think having that context in mind is critically important to analyzing any interaction between jason and bruce with respect to the former's purported leniency towards killing. would the bruce of the barr / collins / duffy run have reacted in the same way as he did above? would he have walked away from jason and refused to even broach the topic of why he may have killed garzonas? would he have displayed so little faith and trust? would he have abruptly cut jason off from the job without pretense or conversation? to me it's highly debatable. i would even go so far as to confidently say no

as for the ollie comparison, that points to another loosely related issue. character comparisons should not only be contextualized by editorial intent but also time period of publication. bruce in the late 80s immediately prior to one of the most climactic events in his publication was at a very different place with respect to editorial versus ollie in the 00s nearly a decade after one of the most climactic events in his publication. he basically operated off of a somewhat clean slate following his resurrection whereas bruce operated from the vantage point of accumulating some of the worst editorial baggage that would follow him for the rest of his tenure as a character. it's not to say that i think ollie would react negatively were we using his 80s characterization for comparison instead. in fact i still think he would be way more understanding of it than bruce ever could be given his own inclination to kill people where he believes it's necessary (see the longbow hunters and a significant portion of ga vol. 2). but i do think there's an irony in attempting to juxtapose these issues of ga vol. 2 against jason-era bruce without taking the entirety of the latter era, its writers, and its editorial context into account. if anything, ollie's contemplation in ga vol. 2 #40 is precisely what would go through bruce's mind were the scenario written by barr / collins / duffy instead. the fact that we're stuck with the legacy of the bruce written by starlin is unfortunate and to me something that should factor far more heavily into any purportedly good faith analysis of the bruce-jason (or even bruce-dick) relationship at the time

[squash1]

can we talk about the mask scene??? it is such a good metaphor for how ronan views his relationship with his friends i actually cannot stop thinking about it. ronan is dreaming about a mask that his father dreamt and used to hang in the barns but in the dream is hanging in adam’s apartment. (the significance of an object from the barns, ronan’s real home, in adam’s apartment, a place that is not home to ronan but is a temporary home to someone ronan loves deeply, should be noted).

adam comes and puts on the mask and in doing so turns into a dream-like monster/demon. the real adam tries to get the mask off but can’t so ronan tries to take it off and is easily successful — in this way ronan is separated from his other friends, he is more in control in the dreaming world, a king in his kingdom. once the mask is removed, adams face is gone — he is forever marked/changed/disfigured as a result of the mask. ronan says “i’ll put it back on,” because what else can he do?

this dream is one of ronan’s greatest fears. ronan has lived in a world since childhood that is shaped, often in a negative way, around dreaming. he is a thing broken, torn apart, by dreaming and has learned to live with that. now that his friends, and especially adam because of his connection to cabeswater, are becoming intertwined in the dreaming world, ronan is scared that they will be trapped or changed or hurt by the magic that ronan has already known about since childhood. that ultimately it will be ronan’s fault they are in the position to be hurt in the first place and his responsibility to try and put them back together. in ronan’s head being broken by dreaming is a burden only he should have to bear — it is his inheritance from his father — and the idea of adam or any of his friends experiencing what he has by being exposed to the dreaming world is unbearable to him.

[itslaneybop]

I’m sure someone has come to the conclusion that Barbatos was originally a feral demon upon creation, right? Diavolo very casually mentions that he lured Barbatos to the castle with tea leaves and Barbatos even notes in a different conversation that he was never a child. That one kid event aside, (which I could very easily find an explanation for if I took the time to do so) it seems too perfect that he would be a quadruped beast-like abomination, respectfully, and I’m going to run with that headcanon.

This is turning into a list I want to reference later 💀

• Barbatos has ALWAYS been articulate and insufferably formal. Maybe he’s made that way.

• Diavolo is the reason he takes a human-esque form, whether to match his own likeness or because he was influenced by some other factor prior to “The Fall”

• Barbatos’s current demon form only alludes to what he used to look like and is definitely the reason why it doesn’t seem to resemble a cohesive design

• He would have looked like a Frankenstein mix between a bat, salamander, owl, snake, and vulture

• ✨ Black sclera ✨ because yes absolutely he would *pants*

• Maybe he doesn’t revert to his previous form because Diavolo has never explicitly said that he was allowed to? (his abject servility lends me to believe he would never use his power without instruction or prompt so this might not be too big of a stretch)

• I already believe that most of the notable figures of native Devildom citizens are beasts or monsters and I think the older they are the less “human” they look. Barbatos is VERY old so that would fit in here nicely.

• Solomon nearly did himself in when summoning Barbatos, if I remember that right, and I desperately want to know what that was all about.

• Whether he started out as quadrupedal or bipedal I couldn’t say, but I think he was flexible enough to stride both ways. Don’t ask me for realism because this is clearly fiction lol but I will say that there is a distinction between his back haunches and the front “arms/hands”

• Someone once mentioned that Barbatos’s VA has a slight lisp (I’m unsure if this observation is true, but I can admit that I hear it and it’s undeniably cute to me) and for that reason alone, I’m envisioning either a snake tongue or sharp fangies to make an audible lisp—or he just has one; no reason at all ♥️

• As far as design goes, I kind of go back and forth between anthropomorphic (I’m using the term loosely and with neutral tone) and just full-on beast.

• For whatever scaly parts he has, I think they’re like a shift of green and blue, possibly yellow, like a June bug shell. Otherwise his body is a mixture of feathers and very fine fur, like a shitzu dog’s coat.

• Big ears! Huge ears that flex and move independently like digits on a hand. This would also explain the black claws on his head because I’m not buying that those are “horns.”

• I’m a big fan of Barbatos being able to speak every language imaginable and that definitely includes every variation of Devildom language. He’s old enough to have invented portions of some!

• Barbatos has said he doesn’t need to sleep (or I am at least fervidly trying to find evidence of it) so I want to believe he catnaps. Catnaps have been described as a light dozing while being alert to surroundings, either to escape danger or pursue prey.

• If he had fangs that worked to inject, he was a venomous monster. If not, I am adamant that he could secrete a toxin of some sort.

• Playing off that last idea, this would make a neat foundation as to why he’s so fascinated and keen on tea. I wonder what kinds of poisonous concoctions he’s made?

There’s a lot to add, but I need to reread the story to get some details right or to pick up anything I hadn’t had a mind to look for first time around. I know for a fact I skipped through most of the story involving the grimoire thing(?) and that’s pretty important regarding Barbatos lol so I’m coming back to this eventually!

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

crazy to have hit 30k in sunless ground this month & for the manuscript to be almost at 40k like. when did that happen

[orcelito]

I biked a cumulative over an hour yesterday. Which normally isn't that much for me. But I have not been biking much at all over the past 3 months, so I can FEEL the strain from it.

It's OK, I'll just take it easy until Saturday, when I will be going Hiking and will Also be doing a lot of physical activity 😂😂 at the very least biking for over an hour shows I can still Do the physical activity, even if I end up a bit more out of breath than normal

[infizero]

grgrhgahahh i wanna read more pokespe but i cant do it on my phone and im not unpacking my stuff until the morning

[wiltking]

hello! you seem like the right person to ask this — i've found myself thinking 'i wish someone wrote [thing i really want to read]' a lot before realising i could just do it myself, which i think is a good first step, but the problem is i've never written fanfiction (or any kind of fiction, for that matter) before :( do you have any good writing tips / advice that has helped you since you started writing, and continue to do so? thank you so much! (p.s. i love your work 🫶)

as this is one of the main reasons why i write, and have found so much satisfaction in the process ever since i started, i hope i can share a few words to get you going!

bottom line - it really is just a means of starting, because i don't think you can ever get worse at writing. you might get tired, you might get uninspired or lazy or distracted but as long as your passion is there you can learn and improve. and you'll never know what you're capable of until you start!

if you're already jumping into writing with yourself in mind as your ideal reader, you're in the right place. writing for self indulgence is always correct but especially so when you're starting out, because even if it's objectively 'not good', making your favorite characters kiss like barbies or explore whatever emotional trauma you want to work through with them as a vessel, you'll be getting something out of the process no matter what. whether it be joy or release or simply to get your rocks off.

but there are many different ways to write. so i can't give you a comprehensive list of do's / don'ts - the following is just a few things i've learned work great for me through trial and error:

write something short and simple. if this is your very first piece of writing, keep it small. you can always expand on it later if it's something you like and feel ready for. one of my first works was a short trans pwp fic and i have no shame in that. you don't have to make a 100k masterpiece right out the gate (or ever!) so just keep it contained while you test the waters and get a feeling for the process. also, the sense of accomplishment when finishing a work is unparalleled. which can be a lot easier to do if it's something lowkey.

drafts. my brain is a scattered mosaic in a kitchen sink garbage disposal. i physically can't write things in linear form, and i can't write in chapters. it's all or nothing. so i've found it helps me the most to put all my ideas and concepts into an incomprehensible first draft, and make sense of it later. all my initial concepts get put down in here even if they're contradictory or bad or bare or in need of change. the intent is to get all your ideas out as they come and sort out / build on them / discard them later. it's about having a skeleton you can put meat on later! i refer to this as 'writing the bones' if i ever get caught up thinking it isn't good, because that's not what the first draft is for. the bones are the foundation of your writing, not the flavor!

find your flow. the key point in starting a writing projects is to write. writing and editing are 2 separate processes. so try not to edit while writing, just keep going. if you get stuck, move to the next scene or idea. skip to the ending if you have to. write notes within your work if you're unsure about something. use brackets to indicate [character walks home here] or [describe interior] or [research this later] when you can't think of the details at the time, and do it liberally. you will get better at this through practice.

have a 'deleted sections' document. when it's time to edit you might be hesitant to delete stuff even if you know it's not working, and even if it's just a sentence or two. my trick is to cut these scenes out and paste them into a 'garbo' document. i never actually go back and reuse these deleted chunks, but it helps get over the worry of what if. chances are if you're deleting a section, it's because you have a better idea in mind. so make room for it!

stay inspired. don't forget why you're writing. if you get stuck, try revisiting what made you start your project in the first place. whenever i feel completely out of ideas i like to revisit the source material or just have helpful bits of it on hand. for my recent patho fic i kept a bunch of voice line compilations open in my tabs to listen to the way certain characters talk, and sometimes i would load up the game / revisit canon conversations to get new ideas. for one of my spideypool fics i would relisten to the song that inspired it over and over again to remember the feeling i wanted to get across. make playlists! stare at pictures of your faves! remember why you love these characters!!

sorry if this is overwhelming or too much info. i've been doing this on and off for a few years now and i'm still learning ways to make the process more smooth and ideal for myself. but the more you write the more you learn not just about writing, but about yourself and the how, what, and why you want to write. this might just be a hobby for me but i'm passionate about it and i think it's something everyone should try if you have even the slightest interest in it.

also remember this is all stuff that's specifically true for me. you might love chaptered writing or nailing out a timeline before you even start or hate listening to music when your write and that's all perfectly okay! but there's only one way to find out! so go forth and learn what the little writing beast waiting inside of you has to say!!

[signalsinaspacestation]

I started "Britt Marie Was Here" by Fredrik Backman because my sister had given it to me for my birthday last year along with "Song of Achilles" and honestly, I wasn't expecting much but I'm 7 chapters in and I'm still recovering from the shock that was the first chapter, the way Britt Marie prides herself in things that she's already lost

The image of her priding herself as a wife and caretaker of her home only to peel back the truth that she had left home and she is alone now at a hostel, still staying up for the ghost of what she once had

[cinna-bunnie]

nooo im all caught up on my manhwa and now i have to actually do something else

hell world