#i have stuff that’s been in there for a straight-up YEAR

[randombush3]

the winner takes it all

alexia putellas x reader

summary: an unexpected invitation throws your world off-kilter

words: 6276

content warnings: it's a bit unfaithful

notes: in this universe real madrid is a proper opponent and rival to barcelona, in the sense that funding and history is relatively equal (so it's basically more like the men's rivalry)

idk where this came from tbh

Amb gran alegria, 

Alexia i Olga

T’invitem a celebrar la nostra unió matrimonial. 

10 d’agost de 2025

Gran Hotel Mas d’en Bruno

You haven’t read Catalan in years. You squint at the details. 

You wish you had forgotten it. 

Only Alexia would do this to you, twisting the knife as though it’s a favour, a compliment. Make it seem psychotic for not wanting to go, make it seem like it’s not a big deal. 

The invitation isn’t personalised. You are not special in her eyes. You have been allowed onto the guest list, you have no mark in her life. Surely Olga would have objected if she’d known, if she’d been told. Maybe Alexia doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she has heard your name on match reports and team sheets, announcements for captaincy, interviews with Las 16 who called you traidora then and call you traidora now. 

As if she knew it was coming, your phone begins to light up with messages from Alba. Apologies, perhaps, in her own Alba way. Stuff like ‘are you coming’ and ‘you don’t have to’ and then more buzzing, vibrating the shitstorm into a phone call. 

You don’t speak often. Why would you? But you answer it, listless, really, and unsure what the correct approach to this even is. 

“Hola, traidorita,” she says with a nervous giggle, reclaiming your nickname in Barcelona but reminding you of how you are perceived nevertheless. “I don’t know why you are on the guest list.” 

Alba is like this: straight to the point, unafraid of her sister and unafraid to tell you what she thinks. They are very different, which is why she is the only one who has your current number in her contacts. 

“You told her where I live,” you respond. Your shock makes no room for manners. “Because no one there has my Madrid address, Albi.” 

“No one here has it, yeah. But she asked around. Well, Olga did.” She laughs again. Her nervousness is high-pitched and easily detected. “Told Ale that she has to have her childhood best friend at her wedding.” 

“Childhood best friend?” 

“Estranged childhood best friend?” she tries, and you can hear the smile and the teasing fucking smugness in it. You wonder if anyone else knows you have been invited. Alba because your address was squeezed out of her, sure, but… “And my mother thought it was a good idea too, before you try to murder a woman you have never met.” 

“I’ve met Olga before,” you say without thinking, because that’s far easier to focus on than the idea of Eli getting involved in this completely undesired reunion that is about two centuries too early. “When I was going out with, eh, I don’t remember her name. A model. You know what they’re like. Olga’s the one who works for… thingie.” 

There’s a sigh from the other end. “So many models yet not one name has been retained. Do you even ask them?” 

“We’re not usually doing much talking.” 

“Zorra.”

“Coming from you…” You smirk at the thought of all the little secrets Alba’s had you keep, a tradition that started young and became increasingly frequent when you removed yourself from everyone else’s lives. It’s like a journal, only you judge her. “You’re doing a good job of distracting me until I agree to go.” 

She hesitates, then. You’re not an idiot and you know why she called. Alba is supportive but she has her own agenda most of the time, and no one else knows the exact time you get back from training aside from your fellow teammates. Even then, most are too intimidated to contact you in general, let alone to ask about being invited to Alexia Putellas’ fucking wedding. 

Alba is also very manipulative, a professional puppeteer. And she knows exactly what to say. “It’s been fifteen years. Are you going to let her win?” It’s an infuriating provocation but it hits its target with ease. 

…

The first step of preparing for this wedding takes place in the form of the Euros: you’re going to win it and be happy enough to ignore the impending doom hanging over your off-season plans. Going into the competition with heavy medals round your necks makes cockiness the slippiest of slopes, and it is safe to say that most of your teammates are prepared to cruise through at least the group stages. 

An unexpected injury rips Jenni’s opportunity to play from her grasp (an echo of her ex-girlfriend, you briefly think), and she is flying back to Mexico before the tournament begins. Montse is a captain down – of course only this kind of disaster could happen to her – and before Patri can even open her mouth to volunteer for the role, you are dragged into a leadership meeting.

You’ve worn the armband before, though it seared and burned and blistered until you threw it in Jorge’s face and demanded someone else absorb the hatred it brought. He went ballistic as you’d said it, you remember, his face going red in the soft glow of your hotel room the night before the World Cup final. He’d leaned forwards, fist clenched, knuckles white and wanting to choke the life out of you.

“You have no respect!” he’d roared, voice splitting like thunder against the thin walls of your hotel room. “Not for me, not for your country, not for anything!” His breath was coming out in sharp ragged gasps. He spat. You’d wiped it off your body. “I thought you had scraped all the Catalan out of you, but here it is!” he’d screamed, loud enough to be heard but so comfortable in his power that it did not seem to frighten him. “Selfish and arrogant. You should have made it Seventeen.” 

He’d left in his rage, slamming his door. 

You regretted smiling in pictures with him, shaking his hand, kissing his cheek. You regretted the press conferences and interviews, the shaky defence you had constructed, the words of faith and trust you had professed and tried to believe. It had changed you, just a little bit, that incident. Made you think about who you are, where you come from. Made you remember someone you’d tried to forget. 

But Irene and Alexia, staring at you with both contempt and confusion as you take a seat at the conference table, don’t know any of this. Why would they? To them, this is the traidora. 

“Y/n is going to take Jenni’s place as third captain,” says Montse firmly, if she even knows how to do that. Irene and Alexia share a glance. Their roles have been restored for this competition and they are not prepared for an intruder to take that from them, although Irene will later remind Alexia that it is not your fault Jenni got injured. “I trust you three will come up with a suitable management plan. If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

None of you really do know where she lurks, but she is walking off before you can clarify. 

“We already have a strategy.” And she says it in Catalan, looking falsely apologetic when she is kicked underneath the table. 

“Good job, Alexia,” you tell her, so nauseatingly saccharine that you almost think of the nearest route to a toilet. She’s surprised you’ve granted her a reply though, which is satisfying enough. About to spit out another remark to divide yourselves further, you shift in your chair, stretching out your legs underneath the table. 

It is then that her ring catches your eye.

It’s delicate, shiny. A neatly cut diamond set in platinum with slight details that tell you someone thought about Alexia when they had this made and got it all wrong. Or maybe this is what she likes now. It’s not what you’d have given her.

She sees your eyes fall to her fingers, watching carefully as your gaze heats the metal and makes it almost too hot for her to keep on. You don’t really want her to know that you’ve seen it but you��ve made it bleeding obvious and so the predicament spirals and Irene wants, desperately, to leave you two alone – she knows shouldn’t, she’s aware of the health and safety risk. 

There is something about the way Alexia clenches her jaw, posture stiffening as she allows herself one flicker from your face to the ring, that tells you she is bracing herself for a bullet. She always did have an uncanny ability to read you, however unwanted it was. 

You lean back in your chair, aware of how the bystander is holding her breath, and decide to swallow the words burning on your tongue. You’ve accepted her invitation, and bitter manners are still manners. “Congratulations,” you say, words clipped and brittle, each syllable more venomous than the last. 

The chair makes a screeching sound as you stand. Irene flinches but Alexia does not move. She refuses to watch as you walk out of the room. 

…

Three hours later, Alexia is off the phone with Olga and knocking on Irene’s door with an embarrassed suppression of urgency. Shoulders hunched and lips downturned, the sight is enough for her to be ushered inside with only the quiet flap of Irene’s arms to beckon her forwards. With this part of the training camp being not quite tunnel-vision yet, Irene’s room is littered with toys and toddler stuff. Usually Alexia would be looking at them in quiet excitement. Right now, she is not so sure. 

“Second thoughts?” Irene asks, and Alexia half-jumps backwards in shock, about to furiously shake her head and profess her love for Olga– “I think the plan is good. I don’t think we need to worry about Y/n in the centre, seeing how she’s been playing there this season.” 

It slowly dawns on Alexia that Irene has assumed this is pre-tournament nerves, and that she is being shown such a vulnerable side of her co-captain because, well, who else can be? No one wants to see their commander gulp at the sight of the battlefield. 

“She still favours her left,” Alexia gets out. “She might drift, leaving a big gap for you to cover.” 

“She’s got offers from PSG, Chelsea, and Washington Spirit. It’s in her interest not to drift.” 

“She’s good at drifting.” 

Irene doesn’t respond to that. 

“Since when did you wear your ring to training?” is what she chooses to say instead, asking the question with a healthy fear of getting her head bitten off, taking a small step backwards to put her at a safer distance. 

Alexia doesn’t reply immediately, her fingers grazing the ring as she thinks. The weight of it seems heavier now, almost suffocating in the sterile air of the hotel room, as though this is everything she’s been trying to avoid. Her heart thuds against her ribcage. It feels like everyone is starting to notice. 

“I didn’t think it was an issue.” Her voice is tight, defensive, but with a subtle, betraying crack. She pulls her hand back from the air, letting it fall to her side. “We hardly did much more than pass the ball today so I kept it on.” 

It’s a poor excuse. It comes off for the cameras, not the contact of the game. Irene knows that. But, to her credit, she doesn’t push. She just watches Alexia, eyes narrowed slightly in an unreadable expression. “I just thought you guys were keeping it a bit more… private.” 

Alexia turns her gaze to the floor, staring at the scattered toys and items around the room. The simplicity of it all, the domestic innocence, makes her feel even more tangled. She feels an urge to lie, to say that Olga asked her to, worried that you’d misinterpret its absence, but Olga doesn’t even know she has reason to lose sleep. She hasn’t found the courage to explain. She hasn’t felt the need to. 

And, really, the truth is right here, echoing between them. Irene would have pieced together the story, as many of Alexia’s teammates have, hearing drunken retellings on nights out from whoever has known the two of you the longest that time. Maybe Alba has spoken to her, revealing everything after a round of tequila shots, as she tends to do. There are a few suggestions the older woman could make to her teammate, wounds she could open and then nurse, but she doesn’t and so she waits. 

Until, finally, Alexia admits, “it’s complicated. She has caught me off-guard.” It could mean many things, but it is either your captaincy or the acceptance of her wedding invitation that has done Alexia in. She wonders whether this feeling of dread and uncertainty is the game – or the life waiting for her after she comes back from Switzerland. “Look,” she says abruptly, “I’m not here for advice, Irene.”

“Then why are you in my room?” She doesn’t have an answer for that. Irene sweeps her outside, gently but firmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do,” she treads lightly, “but when was the last time you had a conversation with her?” 

…

The training pitch in Switzerland is unseasonably hot, the kind of heat that clings to the air and makes tempers run shorter than usual. It’s almost a cure to homesickness but then the team look at each other and are back to hating every minute of this. There’s an undeniable divide. Montse either does not care or has not caught on. 

It’s about your twentieth rondo this session, the ball zipping across the wilting grass as it touches Barça foot to Barça foot, the girls obviously enjoying this. You’re only holding back because too much investment will lead to another injury, and you are getting somewhat tired of being called a traitor. The players surround you with a ruthless efficiency that is starting to fray your nerves, and you make a note to talk to your coach about training, knowing that it will be easy to manipulate her into following something akin to what the girls at Madrid are more accustomed to. 

Alexia is one of your taunters. Of course she is. 

“Just three more interceptions,” she calls out, false strain, false support, false encouragement. 

You bite back a retort, instead standing still as Aitana rolls a ball right past you. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feigning exhaustion, but the pretense is only that in name. Everyone knows you are one of the best defenders, the Barça girls especially, with their insane pride for La Masia. 

“Lazy,” Alexia mutters. 

You don’t respond, focusing instead on the fire in your chest as you forcibly break the circle and march towards Montse. She looks up from her clipboard as you approach. 

“We should split training.” She pauses and then nods. “Attack and defence, at least. And don’t let the press hear this, but, my god, Montse, I do not like how they’re all back.” 

“We’re a stronger team,” she says, but she’s smiling and you are definitely her favourite. Another deep breath and she is calling a water break. 

The girls retreat to the sidelines for ice and hydration, and you reunite with the people you like. Your club teammates prefer you at national camp, because there is something less reclusive about you. It’s as though you’re trying to prove that you get on. 

Olga hands you a water bottle, the contents of which you guzzle down in one go. She begins to comment on the absurdity of Alexia’s mandated rondos (“why do they have to keep reminding themselves how to pass a ball?”) and while you agree, your attention is diverted. Alexia is standing a few meters away with Mariona Caldentey. She’s listening to something the forward is telling her, face focused, finger twisting her ring around in circles. 

That fucking ring. 

You look away before you are caught in such a compromising position, wiping your forehead with your damp training shirt. 

“Oye,” Misa’s voice pulls you back, “are you paying attention?” You’re not even sure when she joined the conversation. Your relationship with the goalkeeper has always been overly complicated. You work very closely, what with you commanding the backline and her… also commanding the backline. But she’s friends with people who must have at least once wished you dead, so it’s hard to tell where you stand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lie, screwing the cap back onto the water bottle and placing it in Olga’s held-out palm. 

“You’re never this spacey. You’ve been off since the meeting,” she presses, her voice gentle but insistent. “If this is about the captaincy–” 

“It’s not,” you snap, harsher than what was meant. Her eyes widen slightly and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Sorry. It’s not about that. I’m fine.” 

Misa doesn’t look convinced but she nods, letting it drop. Gratitude relaxes your shoulders but the uneasy silence that follows is punishing enough for you to be eager for training to resume. 

Now that the rondos have been left behind until tomorrow, you divide into teams for a scrimmage. The squad is split into four and you throw yourself into the exercise. Every touch, every pass, every run is perfect, and you are unrecognisable from your lackadaisical lull only ten minutes ago. You’re pushing your body and it flicks onto autopilot, driven by muscle memory and determination. 

Your head’s not in it. You can’t outrun her shadow. You can’t think when your teams are against each other. 

The ring must have come off now, and she is getting stuck in. She’s relentless and irritating, evading your teammates’ tackles and drawing you into her. It’s almost transportative: back you go to gardens after school or being barefoot on the beach, forced out of your relaxation and into an endless game of ‘tackle me like you mean it’. She has that same glint in her eye, that same goading gleam. You consider it, but crutches at a wedding is a low blow. 

And so you lay off. Just on her, and only just enough so that she knows you are not trying. You do not care for petty squabbles. You are not willing to go back to those memories, to that time. 

Or at least, that’s the message you hope she gets. 

The games slowly wind down, prompted by Montse’s whistle to signal the end of the session. You stay on the pitch longer than anyone else, taking you time to collect the stray balls scattered across the grass. It’s partly an excuse to delay walking into the locker room, where the tension will be thick (you were not the right choice for third captain in the eyes of your teammates), and partly because you need a moment to breathe. 

The others slowly disperse, peeling off to the showers or collapsing onto benches. Alexia lingers longer than most, wiping away her sweat with her shirt, abs exposed and tensed. She watches you as you move across the pitch, and though her gaze is subtle, you can feel it blazing hotter than the sun lashing down on you. But, despite her staring, she too is eventually coaxed away. You’re unsure whether she is thankful for the interruption. 

When you finally make your way to the changing rooms, most of your teammates are in the showers, and the sound of running water mingled with laughter echoes. You take a seat at the locker you were assigned and let out a slow breath, peeling off sweat-soaked socks with mild disgust. You turn to fling them into your laundry bag, but their flight path is blocked by a blonde who has clearly delayed her own shower to talk to you. 

She’s looking oddly pensive. You don’t like it. 

“We need to talk.” It’s uncomfortable for Alexia to say and it’s worse for you to hear. You’re not sure you’re okay with her decision to become reasonable and mature. It’s quite the compliment to always be the cause for stoic, rational Alexia Putellas going absolutely batshit crazy. 

Driving her up the wall is fun. 

“I’ll send you an invitation. No need to tell me which room is yours.” You give her a smile. And, like you always do, you walk away. 

…

There’s a charge to the air that is choking you by dinner time. The upgrade to captain allowed for your own room, and it is easy to blow off teammates who want to have plans with you with the simple excuse of needing to talk to your agent. You technically do, since you are going to leave Madrid during the transfer window, but you have no intention of dialling his number until he confirms the best and furthest team wants you. 

You’ve spent the evening avoiding the majority of the players, which Montse took advantage of, encouraging you to spend dinner discussing tactics with her and her staff. You feel like the teacher’s pet. You know how angry it is making Alexia.

Collapsing on the bed when you back into your room, you let out a loud groan, sinking into the mattress. Your phone buzzes on the bedside table and for a moment, you think it might be Alba, allowing you no peace and quiet despite her distance. Instead, it’s a message on the team group chat from the strength and conditioning coach about tomorrow’s gym session. A wave of relief washes over you; anything but her. 

Still, as you scroll, you catch yourself lingering on the names in the group chat, your thumb hovering near Alexia’s. Your stomach tightens and the memory of her tone, her expression, pulls at you like a tether. 

She’s not going to drop this. 

It’s no longer a matter of avoidance in the camp. You’ve said you will be present. She must want to ensure you will not make a scene. 

A knock at the door, so quiet you are almost convinced it was imagined, breaks you out of your brooding. Your eyes watch the wood as though it will be splintered in a moment, but when you make no move to get up, a more insistent knock sounds. You sigh as you pull yourself off your bed, dragging your feet towards the door. Opening it, you find Alexia standing there, arms crossed and wearing an expression you can’t quite decipher. It lacks her usual burning hatred. She looks exhausted. 

You struggle to feel any sympathy. 

“What?” you snap. It’s a bit harsher than intended but you don’t let on that that’s the case. 

“Can I come in?” You guess that she didn’t pick up the hint when you gave her no invitation. You do not want to talk. You don’t do that to people much anymore. 

She expects the door to slam in her face – and you consider it – but it’s your hesitation that tells her she can, and so she slowly moves inside, shoulder brushing yours because you refuse to move out of the way. And then she raises a deliberate hand towards the door, pushing it shut. You ignore the ring. 

You lean against the door once it’s shut, arms folded as she wanders further into your room. She looks out of place somewhere so personal to you, standing awkwardly in the centre and trying not to look at the explosion of clothes and books that has been detonated on the floor. 

She reads the titles of a few – classics that look dense and boring. Something hungry inside her dulls a bit, because you have not changed in this respect. 

“You’re quiet for someone who wants to talk,” you prompt, mostly because the silence is unbearable. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms drop to her sides, fingers twitching as if unsure what to do with themselves. She tries to meet your eyes, but falters when she sees the cold indifference staring back. You’re looking at her like she’s a stranger. It stings more than it should.

“I didn’t invite you to the wedding,” she says finally. “Olga doesn’t know about us.” 

“There’s no ‘us’,” you snap, sharper this time.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, she looks as though she’s been struck. “Don’t lie.” 

“There is no ‘us’,” you repeat, your tone icy now. “That disappeared the minute I–” 

“Left,” comes her interruption, her voice trembling just enough for you to notice. She steps closer, her shadow crossing yours, and her eyes narrow. “Which was your decision, not mine.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a say in it.” 

“I didn’t!” she fires back, her voice rising. There is something raw beneath it – something fractured. “You didn’t give me one. You walked out, and you shut me out like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.” 

Her words hang in the air and for a moment, you don’t know whether to shoot or turn away. But her gaze pins you in place, fierce and unrelenting, as though daring you to deny it. 

You hold her stare, your throat tightening. “And you didn’t try to stop me.” 

The silence that follows feels deafening. Neither of you moves. Neither of you blinks. You’re both standing on landmines and have nowhere to go. 

Her jaw clenches, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Her voice, though low, crackles with the heat of restrained anger. 

“You didn’t give me a chance to stop you.” And she steps closer, ready to bite. The door presses against your back as you instinctively move away. “You made up your mind before I even knew what was happening.” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see it coming.” You shake your head. “I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave, Alexia.”

Her expression darkens, something in her eyes flickering dangerously. “That’s not the point. You didn’t just leave the club. You didn’t just leave me. You left everything. Our family. Our life. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching you walk away as if none of it mattered?” 

Your chest tightens but you refuse to let her words land. “You don’t get to make me the villain here.” 

“I don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice rising now, accent thickening with her anger. “You were part of my family, part of me. You were at every Christmas, every birthday. My mother adored you. Alba still loves you like you are her own sister! And you just disappeared like none of it meant anything. Like we didn’t mean anything.”

You flinch at the weight of her words but force yourself into steadiness. “I didn’t belong there. It wasn’t mine, it was yours.” 

Her face twists in disbelief, voice trembling as it rises again. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You were my family. My first everything. My first kiss. My first…” She pauses, her voice cracking. You swallow hard – you don’t want the fucking itemised list. “My first time. You think I just gave that to anyone? You think that it was just fun and games?” 

Your stomach churns as she stokes a fire you’ve tried to smother for years. “It wasn’t nothing,” you agree, although it sounds like you are contradicting her in a way that causes her to falter on her drive forwards. “It was everything. That’s why I left. Because I couldn’t be what was needed anymore. Because I knew if I stayed, I’d only–” 

“Only what?” 

You gulp. 

She’s back in your face, voice laced with venom. “Hurt me? Ruin me? Let us all done? Guess what, you did that anyway. Leaving made it easier? Made it hurt less?” 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” you shout, voice splitting. 

“You stay!” It echoes and it bruises your skin. Her eyes are blazing now, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. “You stay, because that is what you do when you love someone. When you love a family. You don’t just walk away from them. You fight.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between guilt and pride. She sees it and it only seems to enrage her further. 

Her voice drops, anger so torrid she has to purposely cool her tone. “You know, I thought that my world was ending then. I thought you’d done your worst. But I was wrong. Because your betrayal wasn’t just personal, it was… political. To not see someone you love except for when they are sitting at the feet of this. Corruption’s pet. Pandering to an organisation you hated, while the rest of us fought for scraps.” 

Heat rises in your chest. How dare she– “I don’t pander to anyone.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” she spits. She’s too close. She’s too inescapable. And her anger is no longer fiery but icy, piercing through your skin. “I’ve seen the way you act around them, bowing your head and playing the loyal soldier while they tear us apart. You think I didn’t notice how he favoured you? Or how Montse magically replaces an irreplaceable member of–” 

“It’s not like that,” you counter, but the words feel hollow even to you.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “What is it that makes you stand there and let them walk all over us? Let them divide us? And don’t you dare say it is for the good of the team. The team hates you for it. We all do. You’ve earned every bit of it, traidora.” 

The word hits you like a whip, lacerating and making you bleed. Your hands curl into fists so tightly your nails dig into your palms, the sting barely enough to contain the fury surging through you. “Don’t you dare call me that!” The sentence tears out of your throat, rough and jagged. You take a step forwards, the air between you crackling with tension, your voice breaking as you spit, “you don’t get to say that to me. Not you.”

“Why not?” she challenges. “It’s what you are. You left, you betrayed everything we stood for, and then you came back just to make things worse. You made your choices.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her, the anger and heartbreak in her eyes, eviscerating and leaving you hollow. But then, something shifts in the air between you, and you find your voice again, souring from before.

“Is that why you’re here, Alexia? To throw all of this in my face? To let out fifteen years of harboured emotion? Or is it something else?” 

Her brow furrows in confusion. Surprise. And then her expression twists into anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You take a step forward now, and she is forced to retreat. “Do you not want to marry Olga, Alexia? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Because you think you can come into my room, dredge all of this up, and make me the reason you’re unhappy?” 

Her face pales as she takes a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t,” she warns, firmly enough to signal you need to push.

So you do. 

“You came here because you’re scared.” She shakes her head but it’s rigid and forced. “Because you’re not sure you can go through with it and you want me to give you a reason to back out. Well, I’m not going to do that for you. This isn’t my mess. It’s yours.”

She says nothing and you feel sick. Her chest rises and falls with each gasping breath. She opens her mouth but again, you are left with silence, and the expression in her eyes flickers between defiance, confusion, and vulnerability. For a long moment, it feels like everything that could be said has been. 

The air between you is charged, but neither of you know which way it will go. 

You stare at her watching her waver. And it hits you: she doesn’t know what to do. 

All of this, all the anger and the pain, all the accusations and betrayals, has led her here, to this moment. She thought she had an answer, she thought she would be able to end this, but now? Now, Alexia is lost. There is too much here, too much to lose. And for the first time in a long while, you are feeling the same thing. You are both no longer sure if you want to fight. 

She takes a hesitant step closer and you freeze. But then, just as quickly, her hand moves – not to strike, not to harm, but to touch you. Her fingers brush lightly over the fabric of your sleeve, almost tenderly, before they fall away, and you don’t know if the motion was meant for comfort or something else.

Her breath is ragged, coming in slow, uneven gasps. Her eyes never leave yours. You don’t want them to. 

“I don’t know what to do with all of this,” she murmurs, the rawness in her tone shattering any remaining wall between you. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

How do you respond to that? You want her to leave but the thought is unbearable. You want space but she is not close enough. Something inside you stirs, something you can’t fight; a need to understand her and make her understand you. To make her see how tangled this, how impossible it has always been. 

Before you can form the word, before you can even think, she moves in closer, and there is no longer distance. She doesn’t ask for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. And then, without warning, her lips are on yours. 

It’s soft, tentative at first, as though testing the waters of something neither of you is sure of anymore. But then it shifts. Her body leans into yours, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as if this is everything that has not been said and has been at the same time. Your heart races, a million conflicting emotions crashing through you. Anger, betrayal, love – it is all here, you can taste it on her lips. It’s fierce, desperate, and it feels like an endless cycle of need and regret, pulling you both back to something raw, something irretrievable. 

Her hands find your waist, gripping tightly as though anchoring herself to something that could pull her under. You instinctively respond, pulling her closer, drawing in the heat of her touch, the scent of her skin, the pressure of her body against yours. For a fleeting second, everything else fades away. There’s no past, no future, only here and now. 

And then the fog clears. 

You pull back, breathless and worse off. You’ve fucked up again. Alexia is crying. 

“I’m not the person you think I am anymore,” you say, but it’s hard to meet her gaze. “I can’t be that person for you.”

Her eyes search yours desperately for lies, for deceit. She wants it to be wrong. She doesn’t know why. And she replies, “I don’t care what you think you’ve become,” because she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to her.

You stare at her, heart pounding, and you want to feel like this will be worth it, but nothing comes except cold emptiness. You force yourself to stay upright. “I think the wedding will be good.” She swallows. “You’ll be happy with Olga. I’m sure of it.” 

It’s a death sentence. 

This time, it is Alexia who leaves. 

…

The wedding is beautiful. Blissful sunlight makes the venue seem to glow and it is hard not to be impressed with how they have set this up. 

The model at your side is also beautiful, but you remind yourself it is not a competition. You focus on the whispers of anticipation from the guests, the rustle of the dresses as people pass in merry groups, clinking their glasses and finishing their champagne as they take their seats. Everything looks perfect, plucked from magazines and tasteful brochures. This must be what Alexia wanted. 

Your date is occupying herself in conversation with the man seated next to you, who might be hitting on her, though you don’t care. She slides a hand over your thigh anyway. 

The ceremony begins, although you’re not really concentrating on it. You try to focus, listening as the officiant speaks, but the words have become a dull hum. It’s all so rehearsed, so expected, and it’s boring. You won’t be getting married anytime soon, that’s for sure. 

You know the flow of these things: the vows, the promises, the kiss, and the crowd’s applause. It’s a performance, though it’s not quite a farce. 

And then, it comes. The moment. The one that feels like a trap. 

The officiant pauses, glancing out over the gathering. “Si algú s'hi oposa, que parli ara o calli per sempre.”

For a heartbeat, time slows. The air thickens. Every muscle in your body tenses and the world around you goes still. You catch yourself holding your breath, gaze instinctively shifting to the woman standing at the front of the altar. 

Alexia. 

Her eyes flicker briefly in your direction – just a flicker, but it’s there, unmistakable. It’s her moment of hesitation, well masked but clear as day to you. But before you can make sense of it, she’s looking away, eyes fixed back onto Olga. Her expression hardens, more composed now, and you know that you are not going to break this silence. 

The officiant, oblivious to the storm passing between you both, waits for a beat longer before continuing, his voice echoing in the silence. 

And she’s married. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s over now. You’ve let her win. 

[kwaggysshardmindemporium]

There were a few things this time five years ago when I was still working at Walgreens that you couldn't just grab and carry around. IIRC the security shelving was on the expensive ass shaving razor cartridges and baby formula. (We were a really low theft store; literally every other store I went to help out at had cough syrup also behind a lock and key at minimum.) We were just starting to install those security shelves on other shit as I was getting a new job.

And like, the theft we had was never on the stuff they were putting locks on. It was basically always just food. Some kid comes in a steals a candy bar tier stuff, not even like people are shoplifting because they're starving. The other thing that was super high theft? The knee/arm/leg etc. brace products. Oh and makeup which like obviously it's massively overpriced and tiny. Our item counts on the stuff that's all locked up now were basically always accurate or off by maybe like one.

(This turned into a bit of a ramble story so I'm adding a cut.)

That's not to say we didn't have any theft problems though. Notably we had this group of three dudes who seemed to think they were criminal masterminds. They'd come in, start shopping around. One of them would go over to the fridge, then find me or whatever other manager was on duty and ask them to check in the walk in freezer if we had more of something out of stock. The other two would grab up whatever they thought they could pocket that would resell to whoever the fuck was buying their shit. It was not subtle, but they were aware that the rules about customer service would prevent us from doing shit to *prevent* this and also about half of management self included did not really give a fuck. (Personally, I appreciated that there was at least an *attempt* at craft and that they were always pretty polite and if something tripped them up they wouldn't get aggressive or anything. As far as thieves go, pretty alright bunch for the most part.)

Then one night they tried to like, run a Payday mission on our ATM? I was off duty that night so I only heard about this later, but apparently they decided to try for a big score. They did the same play, but instead of pocketing stuff they tried to drill into thr ATM to get the cash box out. This uuuuuuh... did not work. They had no idea what they were doing, and the ATM was literally adjacent to the front register, so upon the cashier returning from whatever thing they were asking them to look for they were immediately caught. And then upper management formally filed for a restraining order so these dudes weren't allowed in ever again.

And to be clear, while I say store management didn't care about this, the actual boss of our store HATED these dudes. Wanted them gone. Had been asking corporate what she could do about this for literal years. I started working at this place in 2016, under this very boss. She had already been trying to do something about this for some time from the moment we met. Overall, this store probably lost thousands in cost (not potential profit, cost) from these guys doing this. Corporate didn't even pretend to care. But the second they try to grab a couple thousand from the other corporation paying them to keep an ATM in the front? As nuclear an option as they have without sending these days to straight up jail.

>go to cvs for toothpaste and cold medicine

>hit button for employee to open the toothpaste case

>grabs it before i can

>"i have to hold this at the front for you until you check out"

>go to cold medicine aisle

>ring bell for employee to open the cough medicine case

>nobody shows up

>ring again

>nobody shows up

>check case

>case is unlocked

>take cold medicine and go to check out

>grab toothpaste from unmanned register

>have to use self checkout

>scan cold medicine

>"age verification needed please wait for employee"

>employee comes over and cards me and then leaves

>finish self checkout

>walk through literal piles of discarded receipts at exit door

another beautiful non hostile day in our great country

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[vonbabbitt]

big long kamimura loredrop that i sent to my tetro staff two years ago. obvious spoilers and trigger warning for a lot of stuff. not for the weak of heart. also forgive the very casual tone this is written in i was sending it to my STAFF!! MY FRIENDS!! it has not been curated for public release lol

KAMIMURA KAZUTOSHI. WOW. LOTS TO UNPACK HERE. so kamimura was born as a very sickly kid. his parents were initially planning to have two kids, but when kamimura was born with very particular needs, they decided it would be better to dedicate their full time and attention to just one kid. so thats what they did! kamimura was born with a few conditions that made his childhood a bit rougher, the main of which being hemophilia, an (at the time) unidentified autoimmune disease and a few lesions on his brain. not ideal! so he was in and out of the hospital a lot as a kid, something that was very scary for him at the time, but his parents were very very supportive and loving during this time. they would be at the hospital with him every single time he had to be there (obvs cuz he was a tiny baby boy) and his mom would not go home until he was discharged. she would always be there telling him stories and playing games with him and doing her best to make the experience as comfortable as possible for him. so that made it less scary!

kamimura had a very good support system and it made him a very happy and social kid! he grew up very outgoing and playful and eager and close with his family. his dad was a busy guy who worked in tech, so while he was usually at work, his mom worked from home as a copy editor, so he spent a lot of time with her. as he started to get a little older (7-8), a few more comorbidities and diagnoses started popping up - chronic fatigue, crohns, some vision problems, muscle issues, things that made his life a lot more difficult and worried his parents because he was getting bad fast. this meant a lot more time in the hospital for baby kamimura which is very unfortunate for him. eventually he gets put on a new balance of medications/treatments and his family keeps doing their best because goddamnit their kid should get to be a happy kid! which he is! hes a very happy kid! hes just also a kid with a LOT of medical issues

SO THEN WE HIT AGE NINE. kamimuras mother is home alone with him when a close family friend drops by. hes someone kamimura knows very well - comes to all their parties, visits often, etc etc. but he was also someone who had very strong feelings towards kamimuras mom. he had confessed to her multiple times and obviously she had said no because she is married with a child and was not interested at all. except this time hes completely fed up with it. she says no, he gets aggressive and violent and tries to overpower her. she fights back, he panics and stabs her. a lot. repeatedly. over and over and over. so the kitchen is an absolute bloodbath. not good! a few minutes into this, kamimuras dad gets home from work and is very quickly added to the body count. family friend runs, and about ten minutes later, kamimura gets home from school.

so now this nine year old boy has walked in on his parents mutilated bodies lying in a sea of blood on the kitchen floor. his mind basically shuts down. he cannot even begin to process the ways in which his entire world has just come crumbling down. he goes upstairs to his room, closes the door, and proceeds to stay there for two days straight. if he can just stay in his room and not go outside, no matter what he saw, no matter what he smells, he can pretend that everything is fine and theres nothing downstairs.

after two days of this, kamimura's dad's work calls for a wellness check. a wellness check is performed! EVERYTHING IS NOT WELL. the police find kamimura, remove him from the house and into the system he goes. pretty soon he ends up living with his moms sister, who isnt a mean person or anything, but she never wanted kids and shes just lost her sister and shes going through a lot so she never really connects with kamimura. she feeds him and houses him and does her best, but hes completely shut off emotionally and very traumatized and wants nothing to do with this new life thats been put on him so he mostly ignores her and just goes through the beats of life.

from this point on, he has no friends. he doesnt get close to anyone. he doesnt try to. he shuts himself off, keeps to himself and gets picked on a bit because of it. hes outcast at school pretty quickly and that does not do much to help his mental health. it doesnt help that his PHYSICAL health is still deteriorating pretty fast and hes now living with somebody that has NO experience in taking care of his medical needs. hes still in the hospital all the time, but now hes alone and its quiet and hes scared. he hates hospitals. he hates going to the hospital so so so so much because hospitals are scary and it only serves to drive home the complete lack of his mom existing that is haunting him every day. it doesnt help that hiding out in a corpse house for two days has given him a deep, DEEP fear of anything dirty or putrid in the way that his parents' crime scene was. this evolves into a pretty bad case of germophobia that makes him hate hospitals even more because theyre disgusting infected places where people go to die and rot. bad.

but life continues! so when he turns 14, kamimura goes to high school for the first time! its also around this time that he finally dyes his hair - his black hair makes him look exactly like his mom and he cant handle seeing that every time he looks in the mirror, so blue it is! because blue does not look like either of his parents and now he doesnt have to fking see their faces every single time he looks at himself. yay! so he enters high school, his mental health is tanking, his physical health is tanking and everything is bad. high school is equally bad because hes still getting bullied and he feels sick all the time and school is stressful and he is completely lacking in socialization. so at age 14, kamimura tries to kill himself for the first time. it does not work. he goes to the hospital and very hastily explains it to his aunt as having simply fucked up his own medication and says it was all an accident because fuuuuck he does NOT want to be institutionalized. that would suck. and luckily this excuse works and he's back out in the world soon after. yay?

anyway life goes on! so kamimura goes back to school. except weirdly enough, he actually starts talking to another person. this person is named isao kamei and he is a boy in kamimuras grade! hes nice and cool and hangs out with kamimura and likes kamimuras dumb blue hair and likes all the things kamimura likes (scary movies. breaking random shit behind the school after class. yknow) so the two hit it off pretty quickly and soon kamimura has a best friend. except, uh oh, maybe hes more than a best friend?? kamimura starts realizing that hes got feelings for isao and panics because he does not need this complication ruining his one and only friendship. kamimura has had severe severe trust issues for years now and has finally let himself get close to another person again and he CANNOT LOSE THAT. but isao is a good guy, and theyre close, and kamimura is starting to think that isao feels the same way about him so maybe hed be cool about it. it goes against every instinct he has spent the past five years cultivating, but he finally works up the nerve and admits to isao how he feels about him.

IT GOES BADLY. SO BADLY. isao is uncomfortable and frankly kind of disgusted and pulls back HARD. he basically distances himself from kamimura forever and word very very quickly spreads (starting from isao) that kamimura is gay and that he asked out isao, something that absolutely quadruples the amount of bullying he is receiving. so a few days later, kamimura tries to kill himself for the second time. once again it does not go well. he gets very very very sick, but still wakes up in the end and is absolutely miserable and furious about it. his awful awful awful life continues to march on as always and hes back at school pretty soon after that! he continues getting relentlessly bullied, his health continues to deteriorate, and finally during one of his numerous numerous hospital visits he gets hit with two fun new terms: multiple sclerosis and myasthenia gravis. these are the two things that produce the vast majority of his symptoms. so at the very least he now has a few words to label himself with, but hes not really that thrilled about it either way. kamimura is someone with a lot of internalized ableism and resentment towards his own body. he sees it as the reason his life sucks and the reason he gets bullied and the reason he cant live like other people can. he hates himself, and that makes him hate himself even more because his parents always made such a big deal about telling him how much they loved him and how much he should love himself, so he feels like hes betraying them by absolutely loathing himself and his body.

so at sixteen, he tells his aunt he wants to move out. they arent close and he just wants to be on his own and honestly shes on board with this because she never wanted kids and shes ready to go back to her life. so out the door he goes! hes got his own apartment now, which means theres nobody to make him get out of bed or shower or eat or go to school. so he stops doing all of those things, which makes his health deteriorate faster and makes him even more miserable. so at age sixteen, kamimura makes a third attempt on his life. he learned his lesson last time and ups the dosage hard. except he cant keep it down because he hasnt been eating anything for like two weeks and his stomach just physically cannot handle the amount of medication hes ingesting. so this one fails too. but life goes on and kamimura needs to pay rent! his landlord thinks he is strange and concerning and wants to help him so he manages to get kamimura an apprenticeship with a man named ryōichi katō, a very experienced crime scene cleaner! kamimura EXCELS in this field. hes able to shut off his emotions around blood and viscera - his brain just completely blocks out the horror of it, which is almost a coping mechanism i suppose - but the point is that hes great at it. he starts working full time and it pays the bills well enough so hes got nothing to complain about quite frankly.

except his life still sucks. hes alone. hes sick. he hates himself. everything is bad bad bad bad bad. so at a particularly bad mental low at age seventeen, kamimura makes a fourth attempt on his life. this one has GOT to work because he has been honing this method for years now and SURELY he has worked out the kinks by this point yes? so he downs a shitton of pills, washes it down with cheap booze and passes out. then he wakes up in the Fujioka Memorial High School Basement Laundry Room and now we are here

[taldigi]

how do you feel about yu’s parents?? What do you think they’re like?

I think they're really interesting to explore- believe it or not. I've seen a lot of different interpretations of his parents, ranging from straight up negligent, to being abusive-- or just simply too busy. I've even seen interpretations where they're perfectly fine parents, and that the year abroad is an unusual circumstance.

The game itself, which is what I would consider primary canon (sequels being secondary and manga and anime being tertiary) never touches on it more than it needs to to justify Yu's presence in Inaba/being new. I think Yu's mother is briefly mentioned once or twice and they are said to have called Dojima once.

I made the observation (previously when theorizing about Ren's parents) that it's completely possible that during the downtime that you don't get to see between transition stages (where, theoretically, the main protagonists would do homework or take a shower or tend to other daily needs) it's totally possible that they call or interact with their parents.

All interpretations are possible, but I know Souji Seta's (the protagonist from the Manga) parents are always moving around- and lot of folks have taken this to heart- and yeah, I can see it and I too like this idea- even though it's worth considering the fact that the manga is mostly secondary to the games (and even the anime!) and it's not definite canon.

That being said, I definitely like the idea that they are a sort of echo of the conflict between Nanako and Dojima. Both suggest career oriented people that probably shouldn't have had a kid in the first place who prioritize their work over their family.. and that, in turn, leading to neglect- with Yu and Nanako both being self sufficient. mature for their ages, and complacent.

Behaviors Yu exhibits- like his ability to cook meals beyond what is expected of a teenage boy, becoming incredibly attached to Nanako (he is one wrong dialog choice away from killing someone over her!) and Inaba, the insatiable need to people please, his initial desire to push people away or ignore others, and his otherworldly emotional control and ability to not express himself.. -is stuff like that echos of a kid who's had to grow up way too fast and not cause any trouble and keep to himself.

So personally, I subscribe to that concept: Yu's a kid who's been raised to be seen, not heard- developing complexes and anxieties over being praised for being responsible and mature even though he's only barely meeting that expectation by the skin of his teeth. Nothing less that being perfect for the Narukamis, after all- there's no time to make friends or have many interests when time is better spent on studying.

So... the Narukamis are parents who fufill those concepts. Parents who withhold attention and praise because those are things reserved for truly impressive successes.. and when exemplary is the expected baseline, such rewards are never actually acted upon.

Yu does have a taste in cooking, though- and a selection of music he likes. He doodles in his notes and reads magazines- I feel it expresses that while his parents don't police his interests, it also means that they really care much about their son's interests... as long as they don't interfere with work (and, by extension- Yu's grades or behavior, as he can be considered an asset in said jobs)

Jobs that leave them busy more often than not, leaving Yu alone.. but he's mature for his age, so it's okay. He prolly does a fried egg and toast and then goes and sits in front of the TV to do his homework. Yu seeing this in Nanako... is a lot, and makes their relationship that much more sweet and aajhksdkjasf

His parent's cruelty is best decided on a story by story basis. The level of willfulness in their work (genuinely needed often vs choosing work over family for example) or the level of regret they express upon leaving-- informing many interesting stories.

so yeah thats my thoughts on that.

side tangent, thats why souyo's so nice tbh. Yu always has to be the inconquerable senpai, the perfect big brother, noble leader, and everyone's rock- only to have Yosuke waltz up , hang off of him like a drunk girlfriend, and go "yeah he's amazing, but he's also the world's weirdest man and he's my best friend about it."

[terrestrialnoob]

Damian glared at the clone as Father and Drake attempted to turn whatever they had in the cave into a machine that could analyze the clone’s DNA before it disintegrated.

“Sorry I’m late.” Nightwing said as he walked towards where Damian stood watching at a distance from the Bat-Parking Garage. “What’s the situation, Robin?”

“Did you not read the brief Father sent out?”

“I did, I just want your opinion – and to know what they’re doing right now?”

“I believe they are attempting to create a machine that will cycle the clone’s blood as it analyses. The clone seems to be marginally competent at engineering and is assisting.”

“You know his name is Danny, right?”

“I doubt it.” Damian huffed as his stare got more intense.

“You doubt his name?” Nightwing asked. “Why?”

“You don’t find it suspicious?” Damian turned so his face was more towards Dick but the clone was still within his vision. “He did everything we asked, and answered every invasive question, without hesitation.”

“He's dying, of course he's telling us everything.”

“Would you? Would any of us?”

Dick turned and stared at him.

“He’s not a civilian.” Damian continued. “He said the people who made him wanted to make a better Batman. Would Batman ever be this forthcoming?”

“He’s nothing like B, though, outside of appearance?”

“We don’t know that.” Damian managed to keep his voice down despite wanting to shout it from the rooftops. “We don’t know who he is or if he’s telling the truth. We should have brought him to an external lab. We should have been more cautious -but…” Damian forcefully motioned towards where the trio were working on their analysis machine.

Dick sighed, but his frown turned into a soft smile for just a moment before he looked serious again. “I get it.”

Damian doubted that, and his doubt was proven true when Dick continued. “It’s scary when B just decides to bring in another kid. It changes all the dynamics and we each get less attention and… Danny is also technically B’s blood son, he was literally made from B’s blood. And he looks like he’s what? A year older than you? This is big for you-”

“Stop.” Damian rubbed his face then grabbed Dick’s arm.

“Listen to me.” Damian pulled Dick down a little so their eyes were a little more even. “When the clone’s blood broke down it looked like Lazarus Water. It was – I can feel it’s the same even if it evaporated before the analyzer could identify it. And this is exactly the type of thing Grandfather would do! How could a pair of random scientists get enough of Batman’s genetic material to make a clone? The list of who wants to make a “better batman” is a short one, and my maternal family is on that list. Presenting Father with a dying clone child that has to be taken to the cave, that just so happens to have been abandoned by his parents, that went straight to Jim Gordon, is exactly something Grandfather would pull to get us to lower our guards and… try to kill us or something.”

“And you think we don’t know that?” Dick asked with worry on his face. “You think Tim, who fuck’s with Ra’s in his spare time, wouldn’t think of that?”

“Then why did-”

“Because he is dying, right?”

Damian sucked in his breath. From what he’d seen… yes, the clone was dying. They watched his blood turn green and evaporate in less than a minute. When Damian looked over the clone even physically looked worse than when Damian first saw him on the roof of the GCPD.

“Dami, we’re just trying to help him not die. We will worry about all that other stuff later. And we're going to make sure no one gets hurt.”

Damian let Dick go and turned back to the clone. They’d finished setting up their strange machine and the clone’s blood was feeding into it. Hopefully, they’ll finally figure out what’s causing the destabilization and save the clone from dissolving into Lazarus Water. Then Damian can finally figure out what it wants, who sent it, and how to get rid of it. Or, maybe they fail and the problem solves itself.

Damian looked at his father’s face and hoped that wasn’t how this ended.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[specific-dreamer]

my baby, my baby (you’re my baby)

Summary: darry visits his dad and rants. he also cries. </3

Darrel loves each of his kids (and stray kids) equally. No matter how hard Steve tries to pry it out of him, he does not have a favorite.

He loved when Johnny came over for dinner and he’s able to convince the kid to spend the night, he loves when Soda and Steve came home with new stories about their day at the rodeo, he loved when he came home from work and Ponyboy would rush to tell him about the book he’d just finished, he loved attending Ace’s recitals, and he loved when Dally comes over just to sit in their company when he could’ve been causing a ruckus around town instead.

He is, however, a little more partial to his first born than the others. No hard feelings, he still loves his other kids, but Darrel Junior was his first child; the reason he’s the father he was a father, so he’s always going to have a soft spot for him no matter what he does.

Besides, it doesn’t hurt that Junior is the only one who visits him and Karen on a normal basis. Darrel huffs to himself has he sits on top of his grave. Since dying, he’s somehow gained an internal watch, so he knows it’s 3:47pm exactly; when Junior visits it’s usually around 4pm.

Junior’s early today though, Darrel thinks to himself hearing footsteps approaching. There’s not much else he can do but wait for Darry who bends in front of Karen’s grave and leaves her a flower first. If he were alive, Darrel’s heart might’ve clenched. Karen’ll be sorry he missed Darry, but she’s watching over the other boys right now; it’s alright though, Darrel will fill her in when she gets back.

Darry’s head was bent too low for him to get a good look at first, but now that he’s turned towards Darrel’s grave he can see the tears streaming down his face. If he still needed oxygen, he’s sure his breath would’ve caught.

“Hi, Dad,” Darry’s says taking a seat on the ground. Darrel can’t help but notice he’s got his knees pulled to him like he’s trying to protect himself.

He frowns and pulls himself to join Darry on the ground. Hey, kiddo. What’s the matter? He knows Darry can’t hear him, he learnt that the hard way a while ago now, it still brings him a little bit of comfort though.

Darry sniffs. “I don’t know how you and Mama did it.”

Did what?

Darry gestures in the air, “This parenting shit- stuff, I meant stuff, sorry.” Darrel laughs a little; his baby’s twenty years old and still apologizing for cussing.

If he’s honest, Darrel isn’t even sure how he did it. It was in large part thanks to Karen, of course, she kept him steady whenever he floundered. Junior also helped too, though. He doesn’t like to throw the word around, but for all intent and purposes, Darry was a perfect first child.

“The other night,” Darry continues. “I guess Ponyboy had a nightmare or something, I don’t know, but I heard him asking Soda why I hated him.” His voice breaks at the end and Darrel is forced to watch as Junior sobs into his arms.

It’s futile he knows, but after a moment of watching he hugs Darry anyway. Almost as if he could actually feel the hug, Darry stiffens before looking up and staring straight through Darrel. Spooky, he thinks.

“I don’t hate him, I promise.”

I know you don’t.

“I love him a lot, but it’s like he purposely grates my nerves. He knows I’m stretched thin and it’s like he’s trying to see how long until I snap. And that’s not fair! I don’t know how to be a parent, I don’t how to raise a fourteen year old!”

Darrel isn’t sure when it happened, but a flip was switched as Junior started to rant angrily. He doesn’t leave the cemetery too often, but when he did he noticed the two often riled each other up; it was never one sided. He can’t exactly correct Darry though so he hums instead.

“Daddy, you know when you first, um,” he winces. “left, Pony didn’t talk for a week. Okay, that’s fine, I can handle that, but he stopped eating too. I tell him, ‘Pony you have to eat something, you can only go so long without eating before you die from starvation.’ And I kid you not the only thing he says to me that entire week was ‘You’re not dad, Darrel, you can’t tell me what to do’. I never said I was! I just didn’t want him to die too, is that so bad?”

Darrel blinks. That was a lot, and he’s not really sure where to start processing it. He sighs airlessly, It’s not bad. You were worried about him and had his best interests at heart I get it. Is he eating now at least?

Just as fast as it came, the anger seems to leave Darry all once as he lies back on the grass with his hands over his face. “I don’t even know if he eating for real, yet. I’m not home enough to know; I eat my breakfast in the dark, go to work, come home when everyone’s asleep, eat dinner in the dark, go to bed, rinse and repeat.”

Darrel winces. Even he didn’t work those kind of hours and could’ve handled them. Darrel liked his solitude every now and then, but not Darry. No, not his Junior; his Junior is a people’s person through and through, there’s a reason he won boy of his year.

Rubbing Darry’s ankle he says, I know you’re working your ass off, but I’m real proud of you, baby. I know it don’t look it now, but it will all pay off.

There’s a pause, and if he wants he could trick himself into believing his boy heard him, before Darry says something so quietly Darrel has to strain to hear. “I know it’s wrong, and I try not to, but sometimes I wish I let them get taken. I love them, really I do! But Soda wants to drop out of school and Pony hates me and he thinks I hate him back, and don’t even get me started on Dallas— I don’t think there’s a been a weekend where we haven’t haven’t argued or he hasn’t been in jail. I’m trying my best, but I keep screwing up and that’s not fair on them.”

He breaks into sobs again, this time so strong his whole body shakes. Darrel can’t even do anything to comfort him, his stupid ghost body isn’t corporeal. The best thing he can do is stroke Darry’s hair and hope he knows his daddy is here for him. He hates seeing his kids cry and he’s never been more angry that he’s dead.

Between sobs Darry says, “I wanna leave. So I can’t mess anything else up.”

No, sir. You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, it’s a new adjustment and y’all’ve just gotta find your footing. I know it’s hard, but y’all will find it.

“I’m not gonna,” Darry protests. His baby is red in the face and breathing real hard, but Darrel is thankful is eyes are finally starting to dry. “I want to leave but I don’t want to leave them.”

So, what are you gonna do, Junior?

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I wish you were here, you’d know what to do.”

Darrel winces. Actually now-

“Well, never mind. You wouldn’t be dumb enough to get in this situation to begin with.”

Harsh, but he’s probably right. Darrel watches as the gears turn in Junior’s head. He loves all his kids equally, yes. But Darry’s always been his favorite to watch because when he isn’t focused he wears every emotion on his face. He can see exactly when Darrys made his mind up long before he stands up and dusts off his pants.

“You drive a hard bargain, but fine I’ll stay.” Darrel barks out a laugh as Darry checks his watch. It’s 6:29pm, he’s been here for nearly three hours. “Shit, I said I’d make dinner.” Somehow, when Darry looks up he’s staring Darrel in the eyes. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later.”

Alright, stay tough out there. I love you, kiddo.

Darry’s eyes widen a minuscule amount and he grins as he ducks his head. “Yeah, I love you too, daddy.”

[ravencincaide]

Flowers

Summary: In Dazai's mind, there is no such thing as too late. There is always a solution to every problem. You just need to find the right approach. OR Dazai’s bizarre reaction to your claim that its ‘too late’. 

Pairing: Mafia! Osamu Dazai x Fem! Reader  Author Note. This is Part 2 to: If only you'd hold my hand. I'd strongly advise you to read that one first befor reading Flowers. Work count: 2.2  Warning: Dark content including angst, mention of abortion, cursing and toxic relationship. In addition, this part includes light alcohol consumption, light mention of intimacy. You've been warned, And with those words: Enjoy!

"it's too late" your ominous whisper hung heavily in the dark room. Like a shroud, it buried the once happy news, and turned everything you knew- or thought you knew - into a

hollow, dark disappointing mess. And you didn't know where to start picking up the pieces.

Should you start with your shattered heart after having to make the hardest decision of your life? Deal with your disappointment in Dazai from breaking yet another promise to you? Or maybe address the shambles that was your relationship- or about to be. Should you break it off while the wound was still raw and be done with it all? Repeat those cursed words again and then watch how the tender affection you've craved for months was ripped away from you. 

Again.

Dazais lips move from your fingertips to your wrist. Paused at your pulse point where he pressed a kiss, then trailed up your arm until he came across a faint scar. He lingered there as if remembering where it came from, or thinking of ways to make it disappear. As if fixing that little blemish on your skin would somehow erase all the hurt.

You pulled your hand back, cleared your throat and tried to speak again "It's too - "

"-I think we should go on a vacation" Dazai caught your wrist and brought your hand back to his face, completely ignoring that he caught you off guard, your mind struggling to process his words. You were too stunned to speak, too stunned to react as you processed the odd words that left his mouth. He used that moment to pull you to his chest.  "It's been so long since we've had some 'You and me’ time, Pretty” 

You swallowed thickly past the cotton-ball feeling in your throat "I don't think I have the energy to-"

"-Nonsense. I'll get you packed" He had you sit on your bed as he pulled out  our old travel bag from the closet. The one you hadn't used since your last field mission all those years ago. You didn’t even know you still had it, but Dazai knew where to find it straight away. 

Odd? 

A moment passed of him  fighting with the zip and lock combo before the fearsome Mafia executive began packing seemingly random articles of clothing: dresses, shirts, blouses, jeans and t-shirts. His disposition was almost happy as he filled your suitcase to the brim and then opened another compartment, ready to stuff even more things into the overfilled bag. 

You glanced away  as he opened your lingerie drawer, part of you embarrassed at the state of it and another part angry at how comfortable he seemed handling your personal items. As if he owed them. The lacy fancy stuff you used to wear was replaced by worn granny panities for bad days and brand new tighty whities for good. 

He pushed them to the side with several falling to the fall, then humm’ed in approval as though he found a goldmine. “Oh these ones will do. Do you remember them?” Dazai asked, holding up a pair of sheer ones with an obnoxious bow on the butt.

How did he find those? Exactly the ones you wore when you two were last intimate. You were certain you lost them in the laundry. Or maybe tossed them away in a fit of desperate rage. 

You grimaced as he packed them into the bag and then went back to digging in your drawer.

“Lets just go” you muttered as you got off the bed and snatched the almost packed suitcase out of his hands.  You hurried out of the room and back towards the garage you had just come from. You were certain he’d suggest taking the car and it didn’t take you long to find the oddly parked vehicle near the door, all set and ready to head to this ‘so called’ vacation of his. 

But all you wanted was to get away. Run before he could bring up more of those pleasantly unpleasant memories. Because who in their right fucking mind would want to think about the fun sexy times in your condition? Especially knowing those seemingly loving moments would result in your current predicament 

Then again what fucking sane person would go on a lovey dovey vacahan with their Ex right after an abortion?

Wait? 

Is that what you two were now? Exes? Lost love? Another tragic statistic? Could you even be exes in the twisted world of death, abilities and absolute loyalty? Or was this some kind of sick amusement on his part? A twisted game for him and a pat on the back for you for a job ’well done’; a role ‘well played’.  

You were getting angry. Frustrated at the loneliness you endured. Angry at the fact that

you hadn't seen him for days, asked for a single favour from him, begged for a moment of his time, to meet you for lunch and he failed. He fucking failed to show up for you when it counted and you were not going to forgive him for it. 

No, you’d go on this fucking trip under obligations but you’d also show him that you were done, and he could shove his immature-

Flowers?

The backseat of the car had a bouquet of flowers laying on it, your favourite dinner peeked out of a take-away bag and the seat cushion between front and back seat was up and arranged for you to take a nap. As you processed the oddly caring gesture, Dazai caught up with you and took the packed bag out of your hands before putting it in the trunk. Himself.

"No goons with?" 

"Nope "He said it as if he's gone anywhere without half a dozen mafia on his ass in the last half a year. “Only you and me for a change, donna"

A flicker of concern passed over you. Your one eyed bandit driving? Did he even remember

how to do that after all the time he spent stuck behind a desk?

You were about to protest, to offer yourself up to be behind the wheel but the words caught in your throat, choked by the anger, sadress, betrayal and that gut punching act he put on, as if everything was okay- that it would be okay. No, he wanted this vacation, he failed you, so he could Ideal being behind the uncomfortable wheel for hours on end, navigating the roads while you gave him the Silent Treatment. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d begin to finally understand a fraction of the emotion you felt, that you dealt with. Because of him. 

Flowers. 

Fucking flowers made you made you cave enough to move from the backsea to shotgun a day later. Weary eyes watched the blur of the passing landscape, lingering on famous places Dazai pointed out before you’d stubbornly looked away again. Still silent, safe for your body language which was an open book for him.

That was enough for him. Daizai  kept pointing out a place or two:  an offer to stop for dinner, a gasbreak, a cultural sight or a place where a gruesome murder took place and read your body language for an answer. And through it all, at almost every stop, he got you flowers. Long, Short, tall, cheap, pricey, eternal and real. It wasn’t long before the backseat looked like a miniature garden with yet  another addition to the ever growing collection in your lap- a bunch of local lilies of various shades of white or red.

Beside you, Dazai was focused on the road, the traffic moderate enough that he could tear his attention away every few moments for a kiss. Kiss the places where your hands interlocked, on your knuckles and occasionally your lips or your neck. 

Loving. Almost playful.

This was the Dazai you knew- the man you fell in love with. You could see him so clearly now, without the mafia coat and executive responsibilities. Just a man who grew up too quickly, behind the wheel of the car that was too big and just right at the same time. Just him and you and the endless road that swallowed up the unspoken words; gobbled up bitter emotion until a mournful numbness settled in.

On day 3, you both checked into a hotel for the night- your last night in Japan before your flight, and you finally broke through the last of the unspoken resentment. Tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the dress Dazai prepared for you to wear to dinner. The fabric hidden inside the fancy protective bag, by the closet with only the tags peeking out. A bottle of champagne and strawberries stood by the grand bed, right beside a hand written welcome card. 

It was perfect, full of luxuries you weren’t accustomed to, full of affection and thought and grand gestures you never experienced before. 

Perfectly and overbearingly sweet. 

Anything anyone could have wanted- and more. And it was too much. Tears turned to sobs as you clung to Dazai in the doorway. Apologies spilled past your lips, a constant mantra of ‘I’m sorry’s’ The past three days had been a reminder of simpler times. A reminder of the why and how you and Dazai got together, the sacrifices you made for each other. Promises that were forgotten along the way; moments taken for granted. You were hit with the realization of everything you had, and everything you likely lost. You risked years together, poured it down the drain because of a missed lunch. 

A decision set in pain and anger which ended up causing you more pain. 

Oh if only you’d have known that getting away from the Mafia was what he needed. What you both needed. Then maybe, just maybe things would have turned out differently. “Can we try again?” it was a question you asked without a second thought. It seemed right in that moment, appropriate.  

"We can," Dazai muttered, as he pulled back long enough to cup your cheeks. "Just promise me you'll never rush big decisions without talking to me first. Even if it’s about your body."

“I promise" the promise rolled off your lips like a second breath. 

Dazai’s face split into a smile, a satisfied and pleased expression. "Good, now then, we have a dinner reservation to attend to, why don’t you go and get ready?” 

The offer was both exciting and exhausting. The moment was cut short by the planned dinner. It was a little disappointing to you but you were also used to it, adjusting your wants and needs to the clock. Almost in a trance you showered and got yourself changed and ready for a proper evening dinner like in those stupid rom com movies. 

You were done just as it was time to head down. Admittedly you couldn't say you felt okey, beautiful or back to normal. But you could say you felt thought of and loved with every little gesture from his side: pulled out chair, the pink-purple almost wild-looking flowers on the table, a glass of red wine in your hand. The feeling was only reinforced as Dazai leaned closer to you for a rare vacation picture. 

You both, together, in one shot, without you needing to beg. 

It was surreal. 

Selfishly, you set your mind to focus on the good happenings in your present. The stuff that gave you hope for a brighter future. To change your trail of thought from the bad to the good, and the first step would be to view this time away from the mafia as a blessing rather than an obligation.

 “By the way, you never said where we're going” You mused as the waiter removed the appetisers and refilled both your glasses before the main course. " I guess it’s somewhere in Europe, right? Those are the only planes that leave so early tomorrow, right?"

Dazai looked amused at your observation skills, then pleased. "It is, and it's a good opportunity to take a break from the Mafia," Dazai mused, his head resting on his hand, one eye fixated on you and your every expression. 

You pouted at his none-answer.

"Aww c’mon can you at least tell me where it is?” You batted your eyelashes at him as if such simple flirting techniques would ever work on a man like him. Though it was more a running joke between you from your earlier days than an actual attempt at seduction.

To your surprise, he answered. “ It's an obscure little place in Europe " Dazai took a sip of wine, let the taste linger on his tongue, with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. It was like he enjoyed making you wait, torturing your excited self with patience. " It’s called Meursault” 

" Meursault?  It sounds french" You observed. Instantly your mind filled with thoughts of  wine gardens, salt, water and the sea and calm countryside, and your face split into the biggest grin possible. "Must be pretty calm and serene; I look forward to seeing it"

“I’m sure it will feel just like home” … 

Author Note: I'm well aware this chapter left more questions than answers, so I'd like to hear what you guys think. What caught your attention? What did you react to? Did something seem odd and uncharacteristic for Dazai- and if so, why do you think he behaves this way? And most importantly, why Mersault?

And on a final note: I hope you enjoyed!

𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 |ℝ𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 |ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤 |ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤 |𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 |ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕 & 𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣

All fics are unique works by ©raven-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[stupidlittlespirit]

Ford getting sick and you have to take care of him. hes so stubborn, I bet he refuses to accept that he's sick and even once he does he thinks it won't interfere with his work or anything anyways. minutes later he's passed out at his desk. poor thing. drag him to bed and help him through the fever dreams and unsavory symptoms. doctor, he needs cuddles, stat!

I like to think that once he's returned from the portal, he's got an exceptionally developed immune system. I mention it in Spores (with the death cap thing) and I do think he'd have picked up so many foreign germs that he just kind of becomes super resilient to bugs and stuff in his home dimension, to a certain extent.

BUT, there's nothing funnier to me than imagining him believing this 1000% and never taking precautions, then catching the most regular ass flu and being devastated by it. Like, picture War of the Worlds: all these crazy aliens who are super developed end up dying out because they catch fucking H1N1 LMAOOOOOO

He gets the first twinges of the flu (headaches, soreness etc) and assumes it's just being old/typical chronic pain/because he's been overworking, and so he just ignores it. It's no big deal.

Except, the next day, he wakes up feeling absolutely rotten. Head throbbing, body aching, feeling like he's moving through molasses, sweaty, snotty, just generally disgusting.

Everyone can see that he's poorly, except for Ford. He starts losing his voice because he refuses to shut up and rest his throat, and if he takes the advice then he has to acknowledge that he's unwell. So he refuses. He just goes on in the way he usually does, over explaining things and lecturing until it goes completely. Nothing more than a squeak.

He'll keep working, though. He's just got to power through it, he won't back down! He's in the lab wondering why he's got double vision when he tries to concentrate on his samples and he ends up getting mad at himself for not being able to focus, so he retires to his study in the hopes that maybe he can get some shitty paperwork done.

Which is where, as you say, you find him a few hours later, slumped over his desk, passed the fuck out and drooling on his papers.

You're loathe to move him because he never sleeps this soundly, but he's going to totally fuck up his back if he stays hunched over like that, so you have to very carefully wake him up and gently (but firmly) convince him that he has to go to bed for his own good. I expect his willpower to resist at that point would be very low and so it wouldn't take much.

So you guide him into his bed and fetch him tea and soup and cold medicine, and tend to his needs like the perfect nurse. Maybe he asks you to bring some books to bed because he thinks he'll be bored, but because he's too exhausted to even sit upright, you offer to read them to him until he passes out again.

And I definitely think he'd end up falling asleep on you. He won't outright be vulnerable and ask for a cuddle but he'll allude to it heavily, and you'll pick up what he's putting down because at this point, you've gotten used to his weird communication issues. So you prop yourself up next to him in bed and he snuggles up close.

I do think Ford's a big guy, though, so he'd pin you with his dead weight and you wouldn't be able to move without disturbing him.

Thankfully, he doesn't have any nightmares. I think usually he would but instead of the typical fever dreams most people get when they're suffering a bad flu, Ford gets the reverse: just a dead, black sleep. It ends up being quite pleasant for him and he conks out each night for like 14 hours straight for the first time in like 30 years.

He'd be soooo utterly pathetic and needy; can't do anything for himself and even needs help to be bathed when the flu peaks because he's so weak..... He totally groans and complains non stop, bless him.

When he gets back to normal though, he's totally revitalised and energetic from all the rest and TLC. It's like he's a young man again, raring to go and bouncing off the walls ("I should get sick more often, this is wonderful!").

And then a few days later, when you start sneezing and aching, Ford has to do all the same things for you.... In between several fruitless attempts to synthesize a cure for the common cold just for you. (He fails every time, of course, but he tries his best).

[pain-is-too-tired]

One thing I think is interesting is how much a parallel Will is to Nico. Not just cause "oh,dead siblings-" but how that whole situation pays out overall.

Both are raised by their mom for first decade of their life, why Nico grows up with a sibling, Will only has his mom to lean on, why not shown(praying so hard for a Naomi moment in tsats 2-) it's very clear he has a close bond with her why Nico hardly is able to remember his.

Both end up attack at young age with their moms. Nico losing his from Zeus, and Will being attacked why in the city with his mom. Something that sticks to him so much despite fighting in like 3 wars that he still is scared of those monster birds.

Nico and Bianca are taken to the Casino and years later camp, why Will it's taken straight to camp, and only then does he get siblings to lean on.

Nico loses the only stability(nonfataly at first) he's had his own life when she decides to join the hunters (which, as a younger sibling with similar age gap,definitely gives the feel of sibling struggling with being left behind as the older grows up but that's a different ramble-) Will like makes the decision to not be able to see his mom as much anymore for the safety of her and himself, becoming a year rounder, or having to do so after the war for sake of his siblings. Either way loosing that stability as well.

Of course Will loses a brother before Michael, not only that he looses almost all his siblings.

And this where most interesting comparing the two.

Nico has to stay in camp, he entrust Percy to look after her and when she dies in his young grieving mind he blames Percy. He was there when Nico couldn't be and didn't save her. Add on to the fact that Nico felt her die. He's left with his sister dieing why he was stuck and camp and couldn't be there with her.

Then for Will, he likely not only felt some of his siblings die(if why trying to heal them they died right there) but he saw them die. He was there and he couldn't do anything.

He sees not just Michael being knocked off the bridge, but some of his other siblings too a bit prior from Kronos. A year prior he likely also had to see many other die as well including his other brother.

I don't think most of his anger is in Percy, though I'm sure he has some mixed feelings about it at this point after botl Will is fully aware they're in the middle of war and what comes with that. They had to act fast in both breaking the bridge and getting to Annabeth. Michael wasn't the only sibling somewhere under that bridge, leaving his cabin to search and regroup why he went with Percy was the best option.

But,I think if he'd be upset at anyone, it be Clarisse and her cabin. Even if by a little bit.

A reverse of Nico's situation. Instead of "i couldn't be there, you were" its "I was there, you chose not to."

Not that they particularly could 100% saved Michael just be being their sooner or whatever, but if they were there would've been room for reinforcement. That maybe at least some of his other siblings could've survived.

They're then given something that just becomes a sour reminder of what they lost. Nico's given the figure Bianca got that led into her death by Percy.

Will's handed over the chariot, which was the reason Clarisse refused to assist in the fight why his siblings died, by Clarisse.

But, Nico left camp after. Having no ties to it and no responsibility other than taking care of himself. Only having to get back on contact with Percy after months without it. And why still going through a lot he's finally able to talk stuff over and start on a healing journey.

And honestly,I thinks why Nico and so much further in not just acknowledging his trauma and issues,but actually get moments to think it over and talk and connect to someone over it.

Think that's why I hate that idea that will just came in and "fixed Nico" or whatever. Because Nico was already on the way to healing by the end of the first series! Of course he still struggled,cause healing doesn't happen over night,but if wasn't just Will that helped him. Will was just the person to help him find his place in chb and settle in a stable place where he could finish his healing.

In contrast, Will had hardly any of that. As soon as Michael and his siblings died he was responsible for not only what little siblings he had left(Kayla and Austin were like 11 or so btw-) but a whole army of his peers and others.

He had to become a head counselor mid war, afterwards he had to burn bodies and empty shrouds of his siblings and peers why still having to take care of his living peers.

He couldn't risk the energy to argue or be mad fully at Clarisse. He just had to put on a steady face why she gives his cabin back the chariot like that would fix anything. Only for that to get broken but too long afterwards

It is non stop for over the next 1-2 years. To the point he centered his worth around helping others to an unhealthy degree that it even affects his relationship with Nico.

Which took up to tsats for Nico to really sit and talk to Will about it. Nico's aware of how hurt by his sibling's lost Will is, but i think up until tsats he hadn't fully processed the fact that Will never got the closure he did. Will never got to say goodbye nor had time to do his own thing. And I think tsats it as much of a start of Will's healing journey as it is Nico fully coming to terms with his. Obviously trauma like that doesn't go away, but Nico it's a lot further ahead than Will, and think just interesting how differently their life led them to that.

Will,despite having me stability with camp and his two siblings, he never really had anyone he felt he was allowed to lean on even a little bit. Even with how close he is to his mom, there's only so much he likely would tell her.

Idk. The parallels are so interesting to me.

Also, idea of Clarisse being to Will as Percy is to Nico and kinda fun to think about. I'm just a sucker for Clarisse being a big sister figure to Will hdgd

Also, not saying Nico is there to work Will through his issues either. I bet much rather him just be part of it in the way Will was with him. Nico had Jason and Reyna and Hazel as well. Let Will have that support system. Obviously I'm sucker for him and Jake having heart to heart. But also others.

Anyway gdgd just random thoughts about them.

[megs-1800]

Amnesia

Note: This is my longest fic, I have had it in my draft for ages and just kept adding bits. I wasn't sure where I wanted it to go. Feedback is always appreciated as I not sure about the ending. Requests are open. Used the song Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer for ideas.

Summary: You broke up with Mason after he cheated on you and broke your heart. What happens when Mason has a car accident and gets amnesia and he doesn't remember the breakup. Is he going to be able to win you back? Is he going to get his memory back?

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 11.9K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Swearing, mentions in injury and SMUT!!

Mason's POV

As I lay on my bed I still remember every moment of that day, I still cannot bring myself to sleep on your side of the bed. Its been 2 weeks since we broke up and I am still a wreck. The memories still haunting me,  the way your eyes were so puffy from crying, the way my heart broke in that moment, memories of that day come flooding back.

That’s the problem as soon as I let my mind stop for a moment I am forced to have memories of you. I know it was my fault I cheated, but I never wanted to loose you. I made a mistake and I am now definitely paying for it. You are the love of my life, I cannot cope without you.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving as I open the door from training I saw all the bags packed in the entrance hall. I can see you standing on the staircase shaking, I could tell you were nervous. You found out I cheated a couple of days prior and you said you needed space which I gave you. I knew from the look on your face what you decided.

I remember the makeup running down your face your mascara all smudged and your eyes all puffy I can tell you have been crying for a while, I run straight over to you and wrap you up in my arms. You quickly push me away, I knew that would happen, I just had to try. “Please baby no don’t leave me please y/n”. You look at me with sad eyes, I can see your heart is breaking just as much as mine “don’t make this any harder then it is Mase. I will get someone else to come and collect the rest of my stuff”.

And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them, like every single wish we ever made I watched as you walked away. I watched how you left everything behind, how you left us behind. All those dreams we spoke about over the past 3 years of being together, getting married, having children, growing old together. That’s all gone now, its nothing more than words now how am I going to cope?

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia and forget about the stupid little things like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you as I lay in bed all I want is to forget all these memories together, looking over to your side of the bed knowing I will never fall asleep next to you again, I love you more than anything but the thought of you is hurting me more than I can imagine. You are always there, every moment of every day I think about you. How you smell, the sparkle in your eye, the way you smile, the small little laugh that is contagious to me. My heart is breaking over the thought of you.

And the memories I never can escape. Cause I’m not fine at all I am really not fine at all I do not know how I am going to cope without you. I have tried to message and call you everyday since the breakup but you keep ignoring my calls/messages. This house is tainted now as everywhere I look is memories of you. How am I going to forget you, am I am going to live with the memories of you.

6 months later

My phone bings and I can see that message from my driver that he is outside. I am just finishing getting ready. I give myself a quick look in the mirror before I make my way downstairs. It’s a dinner with all the United boys to celebrate the new season I was really looking forward to it.

The weather was awful the rain was torrential, I am sitting there chatting away with the driver when everything goes black.

-

As I open my eyes I can hear beeping from a machine, the light is so bright it takes me a couple of minutes to adjust to the lighting. I then realise I am in in hospital. I look down at my body, I look physically fine I am just hooked up to loads of machines and my head is pounding.

I see my mum quickly stand up from her sitting position from across the room, “mase, oh my god I am so glad you are awake how are you feeling?” I can hear the worry in her voice. I look around the room, I can see mum and dad, Lewis, Jaz and some girl I do not know how she is.

“I am okay mum, my head is pounding. What happened? How did I get here?” Mum looks relieved that I said I am okay. “You were in a car accident, you were on the way to dinner with the united boys. The weather was bad and your car skidded and crashed. The driver was fine but you have been in a coma for a week. Oh my boy”. She starts crying into me which I try and console her but my body hurts so much.

“Oh baby, we have been worried sick. I am so glad you are okay” the girl I do not know says as she reaches and places her hand in mine. I look at confused as I have no idea who she is and I have no idea why she is calling me baby. That’s when I realised you are not here. Why are you not here, where you in the accident.

“Y/n.. where is y/n. Is she okay? She wasn’t in the car was she?” I am now panicking. I can see everyone look around as if I am stupid. They all give eachother a confused look which is worrying me more.

“Darling, you and y/n have been broken up for 6 months. You haven’t spoken to eachother since then as far as we know. You are dating Brittany for the past couple of months”. I can see the pity on my mums face as she gestures towards the women I do not know, I guess she is Brittany. What do they mean me and you broke up? There is no way! You are the love of my life.

“What do you mean we broke up! No way we cannot be broken up. I am sorry Brittany I am sure you are a lovely women but mum me and y/n cannot done can we?” I can now feel myself getting emotional, I can see Brittany roll her eyes which makes me slightly angry.

At this the doctor walks in, “how are feeling today. Good to see you awake and I am sure your family have caught you up with everything. Physically you are all okay and we couldn’t see anything on your CT scans so I just need to see how you are doing?”

I go to speak but my mum buts in which does me favour as I am still in shock “his memory is gone. He thinks he and his girlfriend are still together but they broke up 6 months ago. What happened doc will he be okay?” I can hear the panic in my mums voice, and I can see it in everyones eyes, well apart from that Brittany. I hate that I have worried them this much.

The doc nods showing he is understanding “by the sound of it he has temporary amnesia, it is common in cases like this. Usually the memories will all come straight back at a trigger of something, but there is no guarantee. What is the last thing you remember?” He turns to me.

I think really hard, I cannot really remember “I think my last memory was Christmas. You know we took the girls to see Santa and we all had Christmas Day at yours. I think that’s generally the last thing I can remember.” I can see them all nod probably reliving the memory like I am.

“That was 7 months ago” I hear my mum say. The Doctor looks over to them “7 months is not too bad, we have people who loose years. It might come back, but for now Mason its good to be around things and people you know. Go back to that routine 7 months ago and hope that something might trigger your memories for the past 7 months”. The doctor finish doing his checks and left.

We are all looking over at eachother, “the doctor said I need things that are familiar. Can someone please get y/n down here please. I need to see here”. I see they all look between them what could of happened? But then I see my mum nod and walk out the room. I assume she is making the call.

Your POV

I was a mess after me and Mason broke up, I knew I was the one who left but I had to. Mason cheated and broke my heart. I could never look at him the same again. I wish I could just go back in time and never argue that night, maybe he never would of gone out and slept with her. I miss him more than words can say.

I have been strong since the breakup, every call and message Mason sent I made sure to ignore it. I couldn’t let myself reply otherwise I would fall for him all over again, I couldn’t let myself do this as losing him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

I had a long week at work, especially with my boss calling in sick me and my colleague have basically had to run the service. I am so glad its Friday and I have today off so looking forward to my well-deserved long weekend. I have had a lazy morning, made breakfast in bed and just got out the shower when I see my phone ring.

Hoping that its not work related I am shocked to see Debbie’s name show up on my phone, Debbie and I spoke briefly since the breakup, mainly just saying how Mason was a mess and kept asking me what happened. I kept explaining that it wasn’t my place to say and she needs to ask Mason. I know Debbie loved me, but I know when it comes down to it she will always pick Mason’s side. I quickly answer the call apprehensively “hey Debbie everything okay?”

“Hiya lovely, um no not really. Mason was in an accident” I can feel my heart dropped, eventhough Mason broke my heart I never wanted him to be hurt. I can feel my heart beating erratically and I can feel tears in my eyes. “He is physically okay, a bit bruised but he should be okay.” I let a breath out that I didn’t even realise that I was holding, I am so relieved he is okay. “The problem is he has amnesia the last thing he remembers is Christmas Day, he cannot remember the break up. He thinks you are still together. The doctor recommended that he stays with what is familiar and that might help bring back his memories. He said you are what is familiar to him, he really wants to see you. I get what happened between you is hard, but please I just want him better”. I can hear her voice break at the end of the sentence. I really want to help but I do not know if I can see him.

“I understand that Debbie, but I do not think I can let myself see him again. I let that part of my life go now Debbie I have moved on. I cannot let myself just go backwards”. I feel so harsh because all I want is to Mason but I buried those memories deep and I really do not want to open those feeling again.

“I know darling, Mason eventually told us what happened between you two. We were furious with him believe me. The biggest mistake he ever made was letting you go. Y/n look I am not asking for you to forgive him, I am not even asking for you to take him back. All I am asking for is for you to come down here and see him y/n please that’s all I am asking”.

I really don’t want to do it, but there is a small part of me that needs to check Mason is okay, and it would be nice to see them all okay. I take a deep breath “okay I will be there in a couple of hours. Please text me the address” Debbie thanked me and a couple of minutes later I received a message from her with the hospital address.

I quickly got ready and packed some spare clothes just in case I stay down in Manchester and I quickly made a move.

Mason’s POV

Mum said you were on your way, I was counting down the minutes to see you. No one has still told me why we are not together. I cannot believe we would of broken up, you are the love of my life well I suppose I should say you were the love of my life now. I hate referring to you in past tense. I can feel my heart breaking.

All of my family start to leave so I can get ready before y/n arrives , you are due anytime now but the women I do not know still remains. Its awkward I feel bad that I have no idea who she is. Once everyone leaves she walks over to me and sits down, she puts my hand into hers. “Masey how are you feeling?” I wince at her use of my nickname “my head is really hurting but I think I am going to be okay. I am really sorry I cannot remember you. I am really am”. I feel awful that I am dating someone I cannot even remember. “That’s okay Mase I will get you to remember” before I know it she is kissing me, I am not kissing back. In my head me and y/n are still together I couldn’t of done that to her.

As this Brittany pulls away I see the longing in her eyes, I can tell she is really into me. I am about to say something when I see y/n walking into the room. “uh sorry I will give you guys a minute” you go to walk back out the room. I am quick to respond “please y/n don’t go!” I didn’t realise I was shouting but it came out louder then I wanted but I just didn’t want you to leave. I can see you nod and you sheepishly come over to me. I can see you are not making eye contact with me or Brittany.

“Thank you coming its really good to see you. Sorry I know it’s a long drive you must be exhausted” I say

“I did it for your mum, not for you but its okay the drive wasn’t too bad. Did you want me to come back at a better time?”

You are so beautiful, you are only in a tracksuit and your hair in a bun as I know you love being comfortable when travelling but you look like the most beautiful girl in the world. We both stayed silent just looking at eachother when Brittany replies to you in a bitchy tone “yeah if you could come back a bit later. It’s the first time since Masey’s woken up that we actually got 2 minutes to ourselves”. I look at Brittany with a shocked look, how rude of her to say that and I can see you are taken back by that. You nod and go to walk out of the hospital which I grab your hand to stop you “please y/n don’t leave” I can see you look at Brittany and you are now hesitating with what to do. I turn to Brittany “I asked y/n to come, she has come a long way please don’t speak to her like that and make her leave. We have a lot to catch up on”. I can see you blush a little as you look down, Brittany looks pissed and rolls her eyes “for fuck sake Mason you are choosing to be with her then me. You are with me now Mason. You know whatever”. At that she throws her body around and storms out of the hospital room.

I see you giggle “You always loved someone with a bit of drama. You are going to pay for that later you know”. I smile back knowing that I probably will with the way Brittany just throw herself out of the room. You sit down next to me, I can tell you are nervous. “How have you been? You look beautiful” You give me a small smile, I can tell you are thinking about what to say next.

“I’m doing good Mase, how are feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” I see that you passed over the comment with me calling you beautiful. “I am okay, I am a bit stiff but physically I am fine. I am guessing mum told you about the memory stuff” You nodded in agreement. “What happened to us y/n? They are saying we broke up but no one will tell me why? We couldn’t of broken up we were going to get married, have kids. We were going to live happily ever after what happened?”

“You happened Mase.”

“No way.. I would of never broke up with you”

“Well technically I broke up with you but you are the one who cheated.” I am in disbelief, I couldn’t of cheated on you. I cannot believe I would of done this to us. I broke us.

“No way, I wouldn’t of done that to you. I love you so much y/n”

“Well you did. You slept with someone else. I loved you too Mase but you broke us” hearing you saying ‘loved’ in past tense makes my heart break.

“What happened why did I cheat? Who did I cheat with” I am still in disbelief.

“We had a huge fight, it was just one of those things that built up. You were stressed with injuries and the press and I was stressed with work and being away from my family we just kind of took it out on eachother. We both said a lot of things we shouldn’t of said and you decided to go out with the boys which made the argument worse. I said ‘if you go out don’t bother coming back’, I guess you took that literally. You went out had too many drinks and got a hotel with her. I don’t really know what happened but that’s what you said. You slept with Brittany actually”. I can see that hurt you reliving that.

“Brittany?! So I cheated on you with her? And then what started dating her again?” I am such a horrible person for that, I must of broken you.

“Yeah not right away though. You cheated a couple of weeks after Christmas which your mum said is your last memory, I found out a couple of weeks later. You only got with Britanny a couple of months ago. She literally put it all over social media on your first date so I found out pretty quick”.

“Shit I am sorry that must have been horrible for you. I just cannot believe I would of done that to you.. to us. I was going to propose to you. You know that trip I arranged in Paris for Valentines day, I had it all planned. I had the ring.. then what I throw it all away just like that over one stupid fight.” I am beating myself up about it, I cannot believe I would of broke your heart like that. I must have been a mess when we broke up, I can feel my heart breaking now and tears forming in my eye.

“Yeah I know, your family told me once they found out we broke up. I didn’t even have a clue that you were going to propose in Paris. But what was done was done. You cancelled the trip I think or you went on it with someone I am not too sure.”

“Surely I couldn’t of gone with someone else. That trip was ours.”

“Honestly Mason I had no idea what you did when we broke up. You tried to ring and text me but I just couldn’t bring myself to reply. Then I saw on the news that you were spotted on a date with Brittany, I was so upset because I couldn’t even think of getting with anyone else and then suddenly you are back with the girl who ruined our relationship but I guess I just loved you more then you loved me.” I can see the tears starting to form in your eyes as you start to look up to prevent the tears from rolling down.

“No y/n please, I loved you more then you will ever know. You were the love of my life. I made a mistake I-I-I cannot b-b-believe I would of done that to y-y-you.” I am struggling to get my words out as my tears are rolling down my face. I can see your face start to soften and I can see your tears starting to roll down your cheek too. You are rubbing the back of my hand with you thumb. This is something that you used to do all the time to try and reassure me when I was upset.

We stay there in silence for what seems like forever, I just continue to look into your eyes. Those eyes that were once filled with so much light and love now seem broken, however I can still see that sparkle that you always had. We were snatched from our moment as my mum walked in. “Sorry to interrupt but visiting hours are almost over so I am not sure if either of you want anything to eat before we have to leave?” I can feel the sadness of the thought of you leaving me, I really don’t want you to leave.

“No its okay thanks though Debbie, I should be heading back to my hotel room anyway. I will probably just order room service, I have had a long day travelling but thank you”. I deny food from mum as well, right now I cannot think about eating as my heart is breaking knowing that I lost y/n and I was the reason. Food is the last thing on my mind. Mum nods and walks away, as she does this that Brittany walks in again.

She gives y/n daggers as she sees that me and you are holding hands, y/n shoots the look straight back though that’s my girl! “I best get going, I will leave you both to say goodbye” as you let go of my hand and look between me and Brittany. Right now I couldn’t give a fuck about that Brittany being in the room. “please don’t leave y/n/n, you can stay here for the night. Please I cannot let you go again” I see the pity on your face which makes me hate myself right now and Brittany looks pissed. Maybe I shouldn’t of said that.

“What the fuck Mason! You are injured and you what that to stay with you rather than me. What is going on Mason. I know you got this bloody memory thing and you don’t remember me but fucking look at me, and you telling me you would rather want that then me, come on Mase stop having me on” I was taken aback by Brittany, the way she looked you up and down everytime she said ‘that’ I was so angry, you are 10000% better then that Brittany. I know you would never agree as you are so much more natural, but in my eyes you are the most beautiful women to ever walk the planet.

I go to defend you but you beat me to it “no she is right Mase. I don’t know why you would choose me when you got someone like her. But anyway I am not like her I do not get into bed with other peoples boyfriends so I will just leave”  I cannot believe you would doubt yourself like that, I would always choose you over Brittany, but I guess I didn’t when I choose to cheat with Brittany fuck I hate myself.

I loved your little petty comment at the end, I go to laugh with make Brittany more angry “who the fuck are you talking to like that.” I can see its started to get a little heated, you step away as I know you do not like confrontation. “Hey.. come on lets all calm down” I say defusing the situation.

“I am going to go. I will come down tomorrow though okay Mase. Sleep well” I nod, I go to say ‘I love you’ but quickly stop myself. I watch as you walk out the room and I can feel the tears forming in my eyes again. I turn my attention back to Brittany “that was rude for you to speak to her like that” I start. Brittany rolls her eyes “oh Mase you know I am a thousand times better than her, you are lucky to have me. I get you got a past with her but me and you got together and you choose to be with me. So why are you now defending her?”

I just look at her with disgust, she is the reason me and you are not together right now. I know I am too blame too but it took 2 to ruin the relationship. “Please just go” I beg.

She rolls her eyes again I hate when she does that. “Whatever Mase, give me a ring when you come to your senses”. At that she turns on her heals and walks out the hospital room. At this time I am grateful for the silence, but then suddenly I feel a longing for you. All I want is you.

Your POV

It was so hard seeing Mason today, suddenly all these feelings come flooding back. All I want is to drive back to that hospital and kiss him but I have to stay strong. Seeing Brittany broke me too, knowing that the other women was there made me feel sick but I think I handled it well.

I checked into my hotel room and flopped straight onto the bed, I am so mentally drained after the long drive and seeing Mason all I want is to go to sleep. I quickly check my phone as I realised I hadn’t checked it since I got to Manchester. I got a couple of messages but one stood out the most, only sent 20 mins ago, from Mason. “Safe journey to the hotel, let me know once you are there. Thank you for making the trip down to see me, especially after all I have done. You have no idea how much I appreciate it x” I keep looking over the text as I am really not sure to reply, he does deserve to know I got here okay though, because chances are if I do not reply soon he will be ringing me to make sure I am safe. I quickly send a quick reply “I am at the hotel now x” I kept it basic I cannot let myself get sucked in again.

I go straight for a shower and I loved the feeling of the hot water on my shoulders, I hear my phone bing again which chances are it was Mason replying. I took my time in the shower, once I am out I wrap the hotel robe around me and collapse on the bed. I let my feelings out and I can feel the tears rolling down my face, all those emotions I kept in seeing Mason today. I can feel myself start to drift off to sleep when there is a knock at the door. I quickly open it and I can see room service “I am sorry I didn’t order this” the man looks confused and double checks the receipt “yeah room 107, it was a prepaid order over the phone for a ummmm Mr Mount” I nod and let the man bring the trolley of food in. Once he leaves I look over the trolley there is so much food.

I quickly message Mason “You didn’t need to do that x” I message he is quick to read the message and reply “I didn’t know what you fancied so I just ordered one of everything xx” I shake my head at his reply but I know he was just doing it to be nice and to be honest I am ready grateful as I head my stomach rumbling. “I am going to get fat with eating all this food x”  he replies straight away “And you will still be the most incredibly sexiest girl in my eyes xxx” I smile at his reply, he is giving me butterflies all over again. He has always been smooth at compliments and eventhough I am insecure about how I look he has always made me feel like I am beautiful.

We continue the rest of the night chatting away over text it felt natural to speak to him, just living in the moment then it suddenly hit me with what happened and I quickly made an excuse that I needed to sleep which he agreed with. As I shut my eyes all the feelings with him came flooding back all over again, I spend another night crying myself to sleep.

When I wake up I feel this sudden urge of dread, I know Mason doesn’t remember but I do, I remember all the hurt he caused. I cannot see him again, I cannot let myself feel like that again. I see Mason’s text saying how he was excited to see me again today. I feel bad but I have got to lie I cannot see him again, not right now. I am still not over him, I am nowhere near over him. “Hey Mase, I am so sorry work called and they need me back like now. I am leaving to go home now. I am so sorry look after yourself and if you need anything let me know. I hope you get your memory back, but maybe at the same time I don’t so at least that way you don’t need to hurt the way that I do. I will always love you Mase xx” and with that I put my phone on silent ready for the drive home.

Mason’s POV

When I saw that text I felt my heart drop, I cannot believe she is already going. Maybe I came on too strong ordering her room service but I knew she wouldn’t eat otherwise and I was just trying to look out for her. It was such a lame excuse to use work as I know that’s not the reason. I read you like a book I know there is no work issue and that you were only saying that to get out of seeing me. I must of hurt you so bad.

I quickly respond back to you, I do not want to cause anymore conflict between us so I type “Okay I am gutted I am not seeing you. Can you do me a favour please don’t feel pressured and you do not need to make a decision now just promise me you will think about it. You are the only bit of normal I have at the moment, can you please just come down and let me take you out for dinner please that all I am asking. I just want to talk, I just want to fill in the gaps. Please y/n”.

I watch as you are typing, you are typing for ages which is making me anxious. Then you just reply in one word… “Okay”.

I try and message you to let you know I have been released from hospital and update you which you just read and do not reply. It made me feel awful that I know you are reading my messages but not responding. I wish I could just make everything okay, at the same time I wish I could have my memory back so I can feel the way you are hurting, so I can understand why I did what I did.

Readers POV

A couple of weeks passed since your saw Mason, he tried to message you a couple of times to let you know he has been released from hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to answer, seeing him that day made all of these feelings come back. I am not sure if I can let him in again. Out of the blue I saw a text from Declan, I hadn’t heard from him since the breakup. Lauren messaged me every now and again as we were close when me and Mason were dating , but when I moved back home it was hard to stay in touch. The messaged said “Come on y/n please answer Mason. All I have heard since he has been released from hospital is about you. I get what happened between you was shit and Mason is an arsehole for cheating on you. We were all on your side, but he is my mate y/n/n and he is struggling with the memory thing at the moment and all he knows at the moment is you. So please y/n/n I like to think we were good friends before that all happened, so if you do not want to do it for him, do it for me :) x” I smiled at the text and had a little giggle at the end. “Okay Dec, but I am doing it for you not him. I promise the next message he sends me I will reply”. And with that Mason’s name suddenly appears on my phone, him and Mason must have been together. “Declan said you would reply to my message. I know I fucked up y/n I know, I cannot remember why I did what I did but all I can do is apologise. All I have is happy memories with you at the moment, I need someone to help me get my memories back. The doctor said to keep doing things which feel ‘normal’ to me, and well you are the most ‘normal’ I can get. One date please that’s all I ask please and then I promise I will leave you alone xx” . I am debating my answer but I know Mason won’t quit until he gets what he wants that’s how he got me to go on a first date with him, and to be fair he did say he would leave me alone if I agreed. I sent him a quick text back “Okay Mount but you better make it worth my while x”. He reads it straight away and I can see he is typing, that’s when his message pops up in the chat “Have I ever let you down”;) xx”

The next couple of days Mason keeps the messages to a minimum which I am grateful for, this week has been busy with work so I am actually looking forward to taking a break and going out. Mason didn’t tell me much about the date, all he said was to dress nice and for me to be with him early afternoon. I thought this was really weird as if it was an afternoon date then why am I dressing up? The day before our date he told me I also need to bring my passport and an overnight bag, I am now seriously confused surely we cannot be going out the county? I frantically spent that evening looking for my passport and trying to decide what to wear. I opted in for a short black dress that hugs my figure perfectly and I knew Mason would love it, it used to be one of his favourites.

The next morning I can hear the dreaded sound of my alarm, I have had to get up at the crack of dawn to get up and ready and make the drive to Manchester. I thought I could pair my dress with a long overcoat to make it look slightly more casual and a nice pair of boots. I quickly post a picture to my private Instagram storey and then make a move:

The drive to Manchester was painless the traffic was on my side for a change. I arrived in Manchester around 2pm, I walked up the front steps to Mason’s and I suddenly start to feel sick this was the house we used to live at together. I start to shake but before I can turn around Mason opens the door, he obviously saw me on the ring doorbell.

“Wow look at you” Mason looks me up and down and now suddenly I feel really self-conscious. He was dressed in black skinny jeans with a white button shirt. He looked fit I cannot deny but I cannot let myself have feelings for him like that. “So give it up Mount where are we going. Dress nice. Get here for lunchtime. Passport and overnight bag. What is happening?” I know he could hear the anxiety in my voice and I watch him give me a little giggle and holds my hand in his. “Please stop worrying I promise you are going to love it. Just trust me okay” my heart drops at that last comment. “Well Mase the last time I trusted you I got cheated on” I can see that comment pissed him off. “Enough of the past that I cannot remember. Lets just live in the present, just for tonight please.” I nod giving in as there is no point keep bringing up the past that he doesn’t remember. “Okay Mase deal. Wherever we are going better be good as I am starving.”

Mason drove us to Manchester airport and we checked in through a private entrance and we were taken to a private lounge, it had some other couples there but I am guessing they all have some kind of status. I keep playing with coat as Mason knows I feel comfortable in situations like this, I hate being in places with people who have status it just makes me feel uncomfortable as I feel like a fraud as I am anything but people like this. Brittany would be the ideal girl to be taking to places like this then suddenly put the thought to the back of my mind as its making me feel worse. Mason kept rubbing the small of back to reassure me as I know he could tell I felt out of place, I wanted to push him away but I know it was only doing it because he cared. He disappeared for a couple of mins then reappeared with 2 mimosas in his hand passing me one “its never too early to drink on a date night” I giggle and take the drink from him quickly having a sip realising how strong it is “I definitely agree! Are you going to tell me where we are going yet?” He shakes his head and shoots me a wink “patience is key my beautiful girl”. He gives me butterflies in my stomach, I am now all of sudden feel nervous around him.

About an hour later and many drinks down a man comes over to where me and Mason are sitting, I can feel the alcohol has definitely gone straight to my head, maybe I should of eaten a little something before I came. “Mr Mount your plane is ready whenever you are” Mason nods and thanks him. I quickly shoot him a look “Did he just say plane? Mason you have not hired a whole bloody plane?!”

“Well you said to make sure its worth your while so I am pulling out all the stops. Now come on” he grabs both his and my weekend bags and I follow him to the terminal. I can see a small private plane on the run way and I am assuming this is for us. Mason did this for us on about our 5th date and I was completely gobsmacked, he always ensures he treats me, that was one of the things I loved most about Mason. I am easily pleased but he always made sure to treat me like a princess.

We chat the whole plane ride there, I am now starting to relax, I think the alcohol is helping the situation but I am starting to ease back into Mason it feels like old times. I am now just telling myself to enjoy tonight as we do not know what tomorrow holds so there is no point in arguing with Mason, I might as well enjoy the night.

We are now preparing for landing, we were only in the air for just over 2 hours but it felt like minutes as me and Mason non stopped chatted and laughed the whole time. “Are you going to let me know where we are now?” Mason finally gives in “Okay well you know when we first started talking and I asked you where you wanted to go for our first date and you said Pasta and Tiramisu from Italy.”

“I said that as a joke Mason” I quickly butted in.

“I know you were only joking but I was gutted I couldn’t actually do that for our first date due to footy commitments so… well… I thought it is the best setting for our kind of 1st date again”. My heart warms I cannot believe he has gone through this much effort. “I cannot believe you done this Mason like wow you didn’t need to.” Before I knew it I jumped across the seats and placed my hands either side of Mason’s face, I just stare into his eyes and then look down at his lips. I then give him a passionate kiss, he is returning the kiss straight away holding my hips, I do not know what came over me, I think it’s a mixture between my heart and some alcohol. I quickly pull away and go back to seat to prepare for landing. I can see the small cocky smirk that Mason is showing, is this his plan all along?

When we land Mason gets us a taxi to our hotel, the outside of the hotel is insane, its massive and so bright and colourful. As we walk inside the lobby is probably the size of my whole flat block, with massive colour chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I am speechless just taking it all in, me and Mason have been to some nice places before but this has had to be the nicest. “Pass me your bag, stay here. I want you to see the room for the first time after dinner. Please.. unless you need to freshen up or anything?” I can tell he really wants to wow me but is still thinking about me the whole time. I give me a small smile “I am okay I freshened up on the plane before we landed thank you though” .

Mason gives me the biggest smile like he is so proud of himself, I cannot wait to see what this room looks like. It must be amazing with the way Mason is acting. I quickly sat down on the sofa and took a video of the lobby and send it to my friend. She is an architect so she would be in love with this. I see Mason come jogging through the lobby approaching me so I stand to greet him. “Right shall we go our reservation is at 7pm so right on time” I nod and link arms with Mason and let him lead me outside to another taxi to take us to the restaurant.

The taxi pulls outside a small Italian Trevena Mason comes round to my side of the car and helps me out, I am trying to steady my feet as maybes boots were a bad idea as I am started to feel a little drunk and I am struggling to keep my balance. Mason puts his hand on my back and guides me into the restaurant, he steps in front of me at the desk. “Good evening I have a reservation for Mason Mount for 2.” The man behind the counter looks on the system and confirms “Yes I can see it here Mr Mount we have arrange a table near the back for you as requested so you both can have your privacy. Right this way I will seat you at your table”  we follow him to our table and Mason brings out my chair.

He is really getting me in my feels, we are sat at the back of the restaurant out the way with a little fireplace next to us. “This restaurant is amazing Mase how did you even find it?” I say in awe of how beautiful the scenery is. “well believe it or not its actually from Lewis. He came here a couple of months ago and said its incredible.”

“Well Lewis always did have an amazing taste in restaurants so I am sure this is going to be amazing” I smile, me and Mason just sit across from each other admiring each other. We are interrupted by the waiter taking our order. Once they walk away Mason places his hand in mine, “it was shit coming home and you weren’t there. It feels so empty without you” I quickly pull away as I can feel a lump in my throat “please Mase don’t start. Lets just enjoy tonight. No talking about this please”. Mason nods agreeing with me.

“That food was incredible” I saw leaning backwards trying to extend my stomach where I am so full, “having traditional pasta and tiramisu from Italy, no food is ever going to prepare!” Mason takes the last bite of his dessert “I am glad you enjoyed it. I cannot believe we have done 2 bottles of wine” I look over at the 2 empty bottles in disbelief “no way have we? Well our heads are probably going to pay for that in the morning. Its been an amazing night tonight Mason thank you. Its been just like old time I have really enjoyed it”.

Mason went to say something but we were interrupted by the waiter with the bill placing it on our table and explaining he will be back. “How much is it?” I ask concerned about the cost as I know I will never be able to afford a place like this on my office job wage. Mason shakes his head “don’t worry about it.” I feel a sense of guilt “mason you have paid for the plane and the hotel, this dinner is probably going to be expensive its not right if you have to pay for that too”

“You can get the next one” mason replies straight away. I feel a sense of relief knowing I haven’t got to pay as it would probably cost about a months rent but at the same time feel bad. As Mason pays the bill I explain that I am going to go the toilet. As I walk to the bathroom I can feel the alcohol hitting me. I look at myself in the mirror and all these feelings for Mason come flooding back, all of sudden all I can think about is him, I need him.. I need him now.

Mason is standing at the table as I return and he guides me out of the restaurant as we say thank you to the staff, we can see some paparazzi outside as we are leaving “shit sorry I picked this place as I thought it would be out the way. Fuck sake” I feel bad for Mason I know he hates all of this. I hold his hand in assurance he looks at me confused. “are you sure? They are going to make up stories” I look Mason in the eyes and place a small kiss to his lips “I am living for today Mase, I am enjoying tonight lets not worry about tomorrow”. Mason nods at me and I think I see a small smile on his face. He takes of his coat and places it over me to block my face from the cameras. This was a usual occurrence for me and Mason, he always made sure I was protected from them.

We quickly walk to the car ignoring the flashes and once we are in the car I do not know what came over me. I am not sure if its how protective Mason is of me or the alcohol or maybe a little bit of both but I forget that we are and I pounce on Mason.

I place one hand on his thigh and the other onto his cheek as I place a kiss, I pull away waiting for his reaction but he grabs me closer and deepens the kiss. It’s a urgent kiss as we are both fighting for air. I can feel his hand on my thigh which is urging me on more. We both explore each other bodies, and the memories of him flood me again.

We break apart to get out the taxi and through the hotel, as soon as we are in the lift Mason swipes a card and picks the top floor. As soon as the door closes we are attached again, Mason pushes me up against the wall and places his hands on my bum whilst we deepen the kiss, our tongues exploring eachothers months. I pull my fingers through his hair and hear the sound moans coming out of his mouth.

The lift dings notifying us that we are at our floor, Mason backs away and leads me out of the lift. I stood still in my tracks as I realise the lift opens straight into the room. It’s a penthouse suite, the room is bigger then my whole flat. Its got a queen size poster bed on one side of the room where on the other there is a whole living room set up. That’s when I see there is a bath in the middle of the room that looks out over the city. “Wow this room is amazing, its so beautiful Mason I am speechless I do not know what to say. Just thank you” Mason places another kiss to my lips before he replies “believe me nothing beats the way you look tonight” . Mason was never short of compliments and he always makes me feel amazing even when I do not feel it.

I do not even know what to reply, but before I know it out lips are together again. He is quick to take his shirt and jeans off just leaving him in his boxers. I just stand there for a minute admiring him “you should take a photo it will last longer” Mason says when he catches me staring, I giggle back “I used to have those photos, believe me you are like the sexiest man I have ever met”. I see Mason blush and his hands are back on me. He starts grabbing my ass with one hand whilst the other is in my hair gripping it. I can feel he slowly unzipping my dress, I can feel him struggling “do you want me to turn around?” I saw giggling, Mason rolls his eyes “Yes please”  he says with the hump.

I quickly turn around and place my hair to one side, he leaves a trail of kisses along my shoulder as he unzips my dress. I am glad I opted into not wearing a bra, so he just leaves me in my small black thong. I turn around so I face Mason, I can see his eyes looking over my body, and now I suddenly feel vert self conscious. I try to hide myself a little, Mason grabs my hands “don’t do that. You have the most incredible body”. I can feel myself blushing. He kisses me again as he plays with my nipple between his fingers, I cannot stop the moaning that is coming out of my mouth which is urging Mason on more.

He quickly picks me up by the ass and places me on the bed. He quickly climbs on top of me resting his hands either side of my head ensuring he doesn’t put too much weight on me. Mason looks me over and I can see the bulge in his boxers urging to get out “Fuck me, you are the most incredible women in the world baby girl” I move my hand to his boxers and slide my hand underneath to get to where Mason needs me most. Mason moans at the sudden touch, I start to make movement “uh y/n that feels so fucking good to have your hand wrapped around my cock” Mason quickly removes his boxers to give me more access to his dick so I can make longer strokes. As I play with his dick Mason is on my nipples, teasing and sucking them and then moving onto the next one to do the same “Mason your mouth is incredible”. He gives me a cocky smile “you wanna see what this mouth can actually do?”

Mason doesn’t even wait for my reply before he is kissing all the way over my body, I cannot control my whimpers and I can feel myself getting wet at the anticipation about what is going to happen next. He positions himself inbetween my thighs and begins to lower my thong with his teeth. He looks at my pussy and straight back up at me and he can tell I am dripping, he was always so cocky when we have sex, he loves what he can do to me. Mason without warning makes one long stride with his tongue against my pussy, my hands go straight to his hair “fuck Mason” I can feel him smiling against me as he continues his licks and sucks, he then puts his focus on my clit and I do not know how much longer I can hold it. I can feel my stomach clenching. Mason then inserts 2 fingers into me whilst his tongue works on my clit. “fuck Mason I don’t think I can hold it” I can hear him hum into me “don’t hold it babygirl I want you to cum all over my tongue” he continues that pace which has me cumming in a couple of minutes as I unfold screaming his name as I have one hand in his hair tucking away and the other holding onto the bedframe.

“I love when you scream my name” Mason says as he crawls up, he continues to kiss me which I can taste my cum on his tongue. “I think its your turn superstar” Mason still continues to kiss me but I pull away to start kissing his neck, I can feel myself getting too excited and probably leaving a hickey but Mason is continuing to moan into my neck  which is encouraging me more. As I pull away I look into Mason’s eyes “I need that cock in my mouth” I slide my hand down Mason’s body and grab his cock again and start pumping.

“Y/n/n you have no idea what you are doing to me! I would love that but I just need to be inside you right now” I let go of his dick so he can give himself a quick couple of pumps and lines himself up with you. “For me this feels like yesterday but for you this must feel like its been forever.” I can feel my heart break at that comment but right now I am too turned on to let it affect me. Mason pushes himself inside me and gives me a couple of mins to adjust to his size. “You can move Mase, please I need you to ruin me”.

He hoovers over me “you don’t have to tell me twice baby” he grabs my hips as he starts to pick up a rhythm “have I ever told you.. your pussy is out of this world” mason says panting, “You have told me on many occasions yes but its always good to hear because believe me your dick is incredible” this seems to give Mason more fuel as the pace starts to get harder and quicker. We both moaning eachothers names and how good we making eachother. I can feel his hands all over my body as mine is doing the same to him. He thrusts are starting to get sloppy and I can feel he is nearing his orgasm. “I want to feel you cum all over my dick, be a good girl for me and cum all over me” with his words I can feel myself needing to cum as well. Mason reaches down and uses his thumb to make circles on my clit which is driving me insane, I cannot hold of moans in which I am worried other people can hear. Mason always loved when I am loud. “uh Mason like that I am g-g-onna” and with that I unravel onto his dick and the feel of me cumming Mason uses this to reach his high as well, he quickly pulls out and cums all over my stomach. He flops next to me as we both lay there staring at the ceiling catching our breathes.

“T-T-hat was a-amazing, y-y are i-Incredible“ I say panting, Mason flops over so he is on his stomach and draws lines in my arm. “I am only incredible because you make me incredible” I giggle at him as I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. We haven’t been this intimate in a long time, but the problem is he cannot remember the distance.

“Did you want to have a bath overlooking the city to clean up?” I agree and Mason runs us a bath and opens the French doors to the balcony so there is a small breeze which we both sit in the round bath probably big enough to fit 6 people whilst we overlook the lights of the city.

We lay in the bath looking out over the city, I have never seen anything more perfect. Mason turns me around so I am facing him. “Can I ask you something.. you don’t have to answer just something that’s been on my mind. You know since we broke up have you seen anymore? Have you.. you know.. slept with anyone else?” I can tell he is nervous to ask this of course if he remembers I would say the same thing, I know about Brittany but was there any other girls? I grab Mason’s face between my hands and place a long passionate kiss onto his lips. “No.. no other guys. You are my entire world Mason, I couldn’t even think about dating another guy let alone sleeping with anyone else. Even though you moved on I couldn’t think of another man I would of felt like I was cheating on you”.

Mason’s face is still between my hands and he pulls me closer to return the kiss, as he pulls away I see him smile “you are incredible you know that why did I ever fuck it up”.

I stretch my body out realising Mason is not next to me, as I slowly open my eyes I let it adjust to the bright light that it radiating the room from the outside world. My body aches as I relive round 2 and 3 that occurred last night, I quickly look over and see Mason sitting on the chair at the table in the corner of the room. His head is down like he is stressed. “What time is it?” I asked I feel like I have slept for hours and with the amount of light coming into the room it must be later then I think. “Its 11 we gotta get up and go soon” his voice is low and raspy and I am confused at his bluntness. “Whats up?” I go wrap the hotel robe over my body and go and join in at the table.

Mason looks at me, I can see his eyes are red and puffy he looks stressed and upset. I am really worried. “I-I-I remember” I look at him confused “You remember what?” he looks down trying not to make eye contact with me. “I remember everything.. I woke up this morning and it all came back. E-E-Everything. Y/n/n I am so sorry” he then breaks and starts to cry. I want to console him but then I need to stop myself, we are back to reality again, we are back to the guy that cheated on me. “There was a news article released this morning, it showed pictures of us last night of when we left the restaurant. Brittany has already been on the phone screwing at me, my family are all asking me why me and you are in Italy and then everything just came flooding back. Back to reality all over again”. All I want is to jump across the table and wrap Mason in my arms but I need to be strong, he isn’t the guy from last night he is now the one who broke my heart, the one who cheated and tore our relationship.

“We best start getting ready” is all I can say quickly getting into the shower and packing up my things. The whole journey home me and Mason sat in silence it was the longest trip of my life. As soon as we pulled back into the driveway, my car now coming into view. I quickly grab my bag out the back and make my way to my car. “Y/n wait!” Mason stops me “Last night was amazing, I know you went with the guy who didn’t remember but please it must of meant something. You are the love of my life y/n. I cannot let you go again.” I start to reply but I can only let a breath out. “I-I cannot do this right now Mase” I quickly get in the car and start driving away. I can see him in the review mirror disappearing as I am make the journey home.

Its been a couple of weeks since our Italy date, Mason hasn’t attempted to message or call which has been nice that he has given me my space but I would be lying if I didn’t say I missed him. I tried to get on with my life but all I can think about was our date I know deep down no one will ever compare to Mason. Part of me wishes I never went on that date but it was so incredible I will hold that memory forever, it helped Mason get his memory back but right now I am not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I am sat at work when my phone rings I am shocked to see Lewis ringing my phone, out of everyone I expected to see on my phone he definitely wasn’t one of them. I quickly excuse myself and answer the phone “Hey y/n, long time no speak how are you?” I am really not sure how to answer.

“Yeah I am good Lew how are you? Is everything okay? Just you are the last person I expected to see on my phone we haven’t spoken since and Mason broke up”.

“Yeah I know I am sorry about that. I know he was the one that fucked up but still hard to see my baby bro so broken you know. Honestly though y/n I was gutted about the breakup out of all the girls you have always been my favourite. I know people struggled as you were not famous and about your intentions at all but honestly I could see how much you loved him, and you made him so happy”.

It was hard for me to hear all of this, but I always got on well with Lewis. “thanks Lew that means a lot. Is everything okay though?”

“Yeah everything is okay, I just wanted to say thank you. After everything Mason put you through you still dropped everything to come and see in hospital and agreed to go on that date which brought his memory back so our family just wanted to thank you.”

“Its fine honestly I care for Mason a lot, I would of hated myself if I didn’t go. Plus that restaurant you recommended was 10/10”.

“Yeah I did say to Mason I thought you would love it. Look I know you have probably heard this speech before but-“

“Look Lew let me stop you right there because I know what you are going to say-“

“Please y/n just let me finish. Okay Mase is a mess without you. He broke up with that Brittany bitch which I was so relieved for, we could tell she was only using him for the fame. I understand he fucked up and I am not asking for you to get back with him but could you just try and be friends? He said he didn’t message you since you guys got back as everytime he messaged you, you ignore him and it breaks him all over again. I am his big brother so I gotta ask, its just he was always stronger when he was with you”.

“I don’t k-k-know, I love him so much I just cannot let myself get hurt again but because its you I promise I will think about our conversation okay”

“That’s all I ask thank you y/n. Mason was so stupid letting you go. Take care”

I reply a “You too” and then I cut the call. Now my mind is all over the place. I have no idea what to do. I quickly ring my boss and explain that I have a family emergency and explain that I got to go. Before I know it I am on my way to Manchester.

As I approach Mason’s door I go to knock then turn around, I then bring myself to knock again but stop before I do the action. What am I doing here? I turn around to walk back to the car when the door opens. “Y/n?” He must of saw me on the ring door bell.

“Sorry I don’t actually know why I am here.” I stand there staring at him. My mind is going 100 miles per hour I cannot think straight.

“Did you want to come in?” Mason moves to the side offering me inside.

“I don’t know” I continue to stand still just staring at Mason. Mason giggles.

“Well okay, I will leave the door open if you want to come in you are more then welcome.” Mason walks away and I can see him making his way into the living room. I shortly follow him in and shut the door. I slowly walk into the living room and sit down on the sofa opposite him.

“You decided to come inside, good choice” I can tell his he being cocky, I am not sure if this is to cover up his anxiousness though.

“Your brother called me-“ I start but Mason quickly replies.

“I know sorry I didn’t know he was going to do that. I promise I didn’t ask him to. I just confided in him last night. Told him how much I fucked up, and that the date the other week was the first time I have felt myself since the break up. I am sorry he shouldn’t of rung you”.

“Its okay I am glad he did, I still care about you Mason. I am sorry you are struggling”.

“Its okay it was my own fault. I really cannot hate myself anymore then I do right now. I broke up with Brittany by the way”.

“Yeah I know Lewis said, but please stop beating yourself up about what happened.  Its in the past there is no point you focusing your whole life on it.”

“You are my whole life y/n and I let you go over one stupid fight. I fucked my entire life, my entire future over one fucking silly night”.

“Mason stop come on” At this point I have now moved closer and let him cry into me. “Please stop crying.”

“Sorry I don’t want you to think I am manipulating you or anything I am just a mess”

“I am came here mase, you didn’t force me here so you are not manipulating me. I am surprised you even know what manipulating means.” And I can see both of us giggle

“You are not funny” Mason said wiping his eyes

“I am a little” Me and Mason just sit there in silence staring at eachother. Its weird to think that only a couple of weeks ago we were sat having dinner with not a care on the world and now it feels like we got the weight of it all on our shoulders.

“Y/n why did you come?”

“Honestly I don’t know. Your brother said a lot of stuff that made me realise how good we were together but I just cannot forget that night. You shattered me, I am still picking up the pieces”.

“I know baby I know, honestly if you give me a chance we can go back to the good and I promise I will spend every day making it up to you. I will never let you feel that way ever again”.

“I am just so conflicted Mase because my heart is screaming to take you back but my head is telling me to remember how you hurt me.”

“I know I hurt you y/n I know but please I will spend everyday showing you that I am worthy of your love”.

I do not reply to Mason as I have no words I learn across the sofa and place my lips onto his, he continues to kiss me back. “Does that mean you take me back?”

“This means we will see how things go. We start from the beginning again. No pressure, no expectation we just see how it goes. You were the best thing that ever happened to me I guess I should allow myself to give it  a chance.”

Mason gives me the biggest smile and continues to hug me. “Who would of known that Amnesia would of brought us together”.

I smirked at him “Well at this rate we could think that you faked the Amnesia to win me back”. I wink at him.

“Believe me baby girl if I faked it, I would of faked it a long time ago to get you back. Now come on I got a lot of making up to do” Mason said carrying me bridal style to the bedroom for a night of Mason winning me back.

[themalhambird]

I put Next Generation on for background noise while crafting, got distracted by just. Straight up watching it, and that means it's time for my longstanding tradition of [insert current media fixation here] Star Trek AU: Rings of Power edition.

Gil-galad is Captain of the U.S.S Lindon. He is not paid enough. Yes, the Federation doesn't use money, he's still not paid enough. His First Officer (on this diplomatic and scientific vessel) likes to stun first ask questions later, and his chief engineer does things like strip all the engines down and rearrange everything inside them instead of sleeping because "the ship was complaining the wires were itchy."

Celebrimbor is the chief engineer in question, from a small planet and a people with an affinity for crafting and machinery beyond most humanoids, but Celebrimbor takes it to a whole other level. He and the Lindon talk to each other. He made a little mechanical mouse to keep the plasma conduits company, got thrown in the brig for refusing to dismantle it when an Admiral doing an inspection orders him to, and got released from the brig 72 hours later when taking the mouse away from plasma conduits ended up triggering a series of engineering catastrophes.

Galadriel is first officer. She and Gil-galad disagree often, but are still a strong team. Elrond is communications officer, though he's trying to pick up as much medical knowledge and experience as possible because he's 1) genuinely interested but 2) Celebrimbor and Galadriel both have a tendency to Get Into Situations and knowing one end of the med scanner from the other comes in handy.

Adar is... okay picture this. There's an old abandoned mining colony on an astroid littered with scrap, and the Lindon needs spare parts after taking heavy damage in a storm or something, so Galadriel and Celebrimbor beam down...and are immediately taken captive by a group of the mineworkers- humanoidish beings calling themselves Uruks- abandoned when the capitalist shitbags had finished stripping the place bare. Adar refused to leave and has been struggling to keep the small group surviving, aims to have them thriving, but the whole place is powder keg. Anyway, respective reactions to being captured:

Galadriel: I am going to fight my way out of this with my bare hands and my teeth if I have to >:-/ Celebrimbor: All this broken machinery is easily fixible, i just need a few days- in exchange for being able to return to our ship with the parts we need? :D

Anyway while Celebrimbor is being helpful and Galadriel is being mad about it, the Uruks move against Adar because stuff has been shit for so long, and stuff explodes, and Adar ends up helping Galadriel and Celebrimbor make a run for it, at which point Celebrimbor is like. "Look, come back with us to the Lindon. There's nothing here for you, we can drop you off somewhere-" and that is how Adar ends up stalking around the Lindon or skulking in the engine room like a grumpy cat. He ends up sidling into an unofficial ship's security role thanks to a series of Episode-of-the-week type shenanigans.

Sauron is a reoccurring problem. He first boards the Lindon as Halbrand, an ambassador needing conveying around several star systems. Charming, model passenger, gets on very well with Galadriel in particular. The series of incidents and arguments that break out while he's on board are nothing to do with him. Elrond thinks something's *off*, but can't articulate why. Anyway, Halbrand leaves them. And then it comes through that Star Fleet never had any record of him...

A year or so later a new engineer is assigned to the Lindon- Annatar. By the time he's exposed, Celebrimbor's nearly blown up the whole ship up and a whole raft of Star Fleet engineering secrets have been stolen...

[elisedonut]

Every single time Penelope Clearwater is mentioned or is in a scene in Harry Potter

because there are not very many so it's easy to do

i will put under a read more so it doesn't take over the tag though

“The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there,” said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.

“Excuse me,” said Ron, hurrying up to her. “We’ve forgotten the way to our common room.”

“I beg your pardon?” said the girl stiffly. “Our common room? I’m a Ravenclaw.”

She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.

Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they’d accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was — “HermioneY’ Ron groaned.

“That’s two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff,” said the Weasley twins’ friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. “Haven’t any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn’t it obvious all this stuff’s coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin — why don’t they just chuck all the Slytherins out?” he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn’t seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

“Percy’s in shock,” George told Harry quietly. “That Ravenclaw girl — Penelope Clearwater — she’s a prefect. I don’t think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect.”

“The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one’s died — because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin ... Justin must’ve seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn’t die again ... and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror — and — ”

“Ginny — what did you see Percy doing, that he didn’t want you to tell anyone?”

“Oh, that,” said Ginny, giggling. “Well — Percy’s got a girlfriend.”

Fred dropped a stack of books on George’s head. “What?”

“It’s that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” said Ginny. “That’s who he was writing to all last summer. He’s been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was — you know — attacked. You won’t tease him, will you?” she added anxiously.

“The sooner we get on the train, the better,” he said. “At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he’s accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know,” Ron grimaced, “his girlfriend. She’s hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy. ...”

“Ah, there’s Penelope!” said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry’s eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn’t miss his shiny badge.

“Put it here, Harry,” he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy’s Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

“Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!” said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely “Penelope and I have got a bet on,” he told the team. “Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!”

Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.

“Harry — make sure you win,” said Percy, in an urgent whisper. “I haven’t got ten Galleons. Yes, I’m coming, Penny!” And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

“Well done, Harry!” said Percy, looking delighted. “Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me — ”

Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Sirius’s escape.

“If I manage to get into the Ministry, I’ll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!” he told the only person who would listen — his girlfriend, Penelope.

“Oh, I’m not going to bite just yet. We’ll see if she’s a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barny. Who are you, girly?”

“Penelope Clearwater,” said Hermione. She sounded terrified, but convincing.

[definitelynot-a-fake-cop]

ooc // oh my god another Reki mun oc. Holy shit.

// well yes bc with the death of Tori and the deletion and retconning of sai.... I had to fill the void 😔

// you know what time it is baby

OOC OC INTROOO!!!

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》Omg another blue themed character wowwww (sorry not sorry Indigo)

》Mack Briggs, he/him, 24-25ish (and refuses to admit it), he doesn't know what his sexuality is but he ain't straight

》An ex-villain in Gotham called White Snake (I don't think that name is taken 😵‍💫), because of his funky powers. His funky powers which include being absolutely dead silent on his feet, he's got these fangs that do in fact shoot venom when he wants, and that venom can either hurt or heal depending on if hes tryna help you or not, he's also poisonous if you bite him and break skin, changing his vision to infrared to see heat of others (helps in dark environments), of course he can turn into a snake (a very big white snake with blue markings because special), and along with snakey powers he has the floating gaster hands that Sai had (those who didn't know sai it's fine you'll learn). overall as a villain he was generally cold, smart, and cunning, like a much less expressive Black Mask.

》So now that he's not a villain, he's actually a cop. he like wore a mask and disguise and never actually revealed his true identity so nobody actually knew who White Snake was. Mack literally just forged papers and shit to be a "transfer" from Blüdhaven to the GCPD, made this whole story of working as a cop for a few years, his dad was a cop, yadda yadda it's all bullshit but nobody but him knows that. he's been working as a cop in Gotham for about six months now. stopped being a villain when he accidentally hurt some people he cared about and permanently lives with that guilt.

》his parents are in fact not dead (yay not an orphan). but they suck. Basically when Mack started getting his powers at the ripe age of six, he was forced into tests and experiments and shit. getting poked and prodded into oblivion and never let out of the house basically. so yeah he was a lil bit twisted growing up. he's on non speaking terms with his family.

》He does care. he is trying. he'll probably be just a tiny bit mean to you when you first meet but once he warms up a bit he does care quite alot. he's a protective motherfucker.

》He always has a way of making you feel like you've met him before, or seen him, because he was a relatively big villain but in a disguise always and never showed his face except the eyes really. so. yeah.

》white hair, down to his shoulder blades and usually up. piercing blue eyes, and yes he does have snake-like pupils that are pointy at the top instead of round but you don't really notice it until you stare for. like. ten minutes. and he's a heavy eye contact avoider. fangs, obviously. two tattoos going up his arms that are snakes, and one on his back. snake bite piercings (heheh) because mun still DESPERATELY wants those. ears pierced. always has an unapproachable look to him.

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Rules:

》RPs are welcome and encouraged!! drop a starter in the asks literally whenever you want, or tag me or whatever you wanna do. if you wanna establish it a bit first, DM me! love interacting with people so don't hesitate :)

》Flirting, suggestive stuff is fine, no downright NSFW and if you're gonna do that, character and mun MUST be over 18 please.

》Platonic, family, friend stuff is welcome to all to interact!

》Sillies are of course welcome, filllll my ask box. you can also ask questions, or drop lore stuff (love it when anons drop lore stuff or psychologically torture my characters :))

》Fluffy stuff is great, angst is great, but I do ask that if you wanna do an angsty rp plz message me beforehand just to give me a heads up. if you'd like to establish a romantic relationship with Mack, message me first. this is a must.

》Don't spam like, you will be blocked.

thanks yall, enjoy torturing interacting with Mack!!!

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Uhhh ok so for rps and shit the non-dialogue text will be in blue like this and then ye if it's blue in dialogue it usually means shits boutta happen

[kylermalloy]

I wondered what you would have thought of a scene where Marcel drinks from Klaus by the neck while the rest of the family is forced to watch. Compelled, after he's turned into the greatest vamp

Hmm. Hmmm. I like this idea very much! Definitely something Marcel would do—because while he thinks himself fairer and more moderate than the Mikaelsons (and he is, in some regards) he can still go on a biiiit of a power trip. I’ll still never be over Vincent’s little speech at the end of season 3—“the king is dead, all hail the king.” He lumps Marcel in with the Mikaelsons, citing the destruction of the Strix as evidence that Marcel also goes too far. Marcel also promotes needless bloodshed. And Marcel, unlike Klaus and Rebekah and the others, denies that part of himself. He wants to think he’s better than that. Above all that. (He’s not.)

So yes! I think Marcel would do that to Klaus—as a show of his power, and to psychologically torment the rest of his family. See what I can do to your brother. See how you’re powerless to stop me. See how, really, he deserves it.

[daughter-of-sapph0]

who had "jkr goes full nazi" on their 2024 bingo cards?