#you're tearing me apart lisa

[d4rk-x-w0lf-17]

live footage of me crying over ace having to leave yuu/the mc behind to save himself and knowing full well that ace hated every second of it:

[schlock-luster-video]

On July 24, 2019, The Room debuted in Toronto and London.

Here's some new Tommy Wiseau art!

[chronically-ghosted]

Dilemma for you. Chose one for Dieter to keep: Earring, Tattoos, Rings.

.... just woke up and chose violence, didn't you?

I DONT KNOW

um . .. rings because i have a visual fixation with that man's hands

[thespoonlagoon]

Anyway, how's your eggs life?

Click here

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Follow me for more Pop Culture / Kitchenware mashups.

Have an excellent rest of your day.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Never did i think I'd use a Tommy Wiseau gif for my fic but I couldn't resist with that tag 🤣 So listen, I tend to keep angst minimal among the more fruity elements because I find it very easy to slip into and too much brings me down a bit HOWEVER this idea was too tasty not to preserve so here we are.

Also we KNOW it's gonna be all tears and snotters and shouting and shoulder slaps falling into desperate kisses in that chamber so that makes it easier on the ol heart 😂 No part 2 planned but never say never.

I'm so delighted you still enjoyed it so much despite it not being my usual fare, that means an awful lot to me 😊

The Prince is Dead [Asgard!Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Shaken by Loki's death on Svartálfheim, you confront the one you blame the most. Odin. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: Angst. Mentions of death. Heartbreak. Violent imagery. Melt to fluff (implied)

The sun still rose in the North and set in the South, the way it always did. Clattering swords rang from the training ground, each echo of distant laughter another stake through your chest. But Asgard's golden turrets would still shine garishly in the morning light. As ever it was, so it shall be.

You wrapped a thin shawl tighter around your arms. The Prince is dead, you thought, biting back a sigh. The majestic façade was dulled behind the drape of your mourning veil, grey and lifeless. Or perhaps, you just finally saw things as they truly were.

Five moons had since risen and ebbed while you had lain half-alive in your chambers. Sleep descended in snatches, an unwelcome friend. And of course, you had dreamt of him.

His shadowed smile glancing back as he led you through winding palace paths. His face turned to the ceiling in the bed you shared, frozen in anguish. Bloodless with deep blue veins wound in spider patterns across lifeless cheeks. Or his kiss fastening to your own, a loving whisper of your name on warm lips as he melted into you. When you would wake, that dream was the worst of all.

The Prince is dead, a guard had told you with no emotion. With no sympathy. You had waited until he had retreated to sink to your knees, body racking with silent, violent sobs. No one had seen you cry, though. Loki would have approved.

You assumed that your place within the palace was forfeit. By tradition, you should have been removed immediately. Perhaps Thor had intervened to allow a period of mourning. If he had, it would be the one decent thing he's ever done. You pondered that thought bitterly for a moment, wishing he'd used that sliver of kindness to bring Loki's body home instead.

But either way, it didn't matter now.

You inhaled shakily while nervous fingers wound through the thick fabric of your skirts. To anyone else, they would look black. But in truth they were the deepest, darkest green. A waft of fragrant spice rolled on the wind across the balustrade from the markets, heating the cool air. Gods, how you missed him.

The anger, you would admit, had taken you by surprise. When your face wasn't buried in Loki's pillow, inhaling his waning scent between shuddering tears - it was anger. Only that.

It was anger that had brought the fine Asgardian sculptures in your rooms to their undignified end. Anger that fuelled the plot which burned and blossomed in your mind while shadows danced the walls. Anger that urged to you don silken armour this morning, to parade yourself as bait.

It was anger that kept your head high while you rode the whispers following you like smoke. Anger, you had found, was more of a comfort than remembering. A locket bearing Loki's initial hid beneath your bodice, blossoms from the tree beneath which he had first kissed you preserved inside. A gift. One of his prize daggers was strapped to your thigh, and with every step to your final destination, the cool blade kissed your skin.

Your fingertips steadied on the balustrade wall as a ceremonial clatter of guards approached. Eyes fixed on the old town, you composed yourself. The breeze made the dark veil flutter. There was a single heavy clang as twenty spears hit the marble floor in unison. A growl of stand back broke the heavy silence. The guards complied.

"Why do you mourn him so?" a voice rasped. "You are finally free."

The King's words were thick as he rustled beside your shoulder. Beneath the veil, your frown deepened. "Even from you Allfather, I would expect more sensitivity." you muttered. Odin drew up to his full height, observing the spread of his kingdom with a sanctimonious smirk. Patience, you thought. The absence of your bow was treasonous, and it would have been noted. He let out a forced laugh, meaty hands clasping behind his back. "I expect you may have thought that you loved him. But you did not know him as I did."

"You're right, I didn't."

It was surprising how easily the words came. Strong and clear and crisp. "I knew his heart."

Odin chuckled. "His heart," he mocked. "That you think he had one betrays your naivety. Go, now. Be free."

Bravery welled in your belly like a swollen river, pushing a prick of tears to your eyes. You felt like you might burst. You were suddenly glad the old fuck couldn't see your face.

Patience.

With a god, time was something that could be counted on. Or, it should be. Time to grow and love and to be free. That was the plan for you and Loki. But now, time stretched before you like an endless, lonley void. A sentence. Odin and his arrogance had seen to that.

"You forget yourself Odin, son of Bor," you said; and for a moment, he looked genuinely shocked. Or is he impressed, you thought fleetingly.

"You lost a son-"

You raised a hand as his cracked lips began to move in predictable denial. "A son." you repeated firmly.

The word hung thick between you. "Asgard lost not just a Prince, it lost a protector. The one that shielded them from this palace and its ruler's whims."

Odin was silent.

"And I lost-"

A lump rose in your throat. Everything.

"I know what you lost, " the King spat. "The chance to be queen by the unsurper's side once he had slain the true heir. The chance to wallow in finery and filth encrusted sheets while that disgraced Jotun defiled you at any time of the day or night. Plotting."

You shook your head. And you couldn't help it. You laughed.

"For all your years, you know nothing. Nothing about truth, or destiny, or love. I see that now-"

"Love," Odin scoffed, cutting in." If you loved him, you were the only one who ever did. "

"I love him still," you murmured, turning towards the rolling mountains. Your fingers played at the hilt of the dagger through the slit in your gown. "Forget him." Odin sniffed, waving a hand. "You will be the better for it, we all will."

His loaded dismissal blew away any lingering doubt.

Loki's face flashed behind your eyelids, a vision of the day he had finally let you in to his solitary world. Golden specks of dust had swirled within a single beam of amber light cutting through the healing room. He had sat perched on a single bed, elbows resting on his knees. Despite the lengthy battle, his skin glowed luminous in the dying song of day. Deep wounds streaked across his stomach and ribs and back, purple bruises marring his skin like the darkest storm-clouds. His leather armour lay in a ragged pile by his feet. Blood crept from its crevices, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor.

You had cried then, too. Only once.

"It will heal," he had said, cupping your cheek with a strained smile. "Do not waste your worry."

"I can't help it," you'd replied, tracing your fingertips over a gash in his side. Loki had winced. As you watched, the skin began to stretch and meld millimetre by millimetre. "You shall have to become more stoic if you are to be my wife one day," Loki smiled. There was a pause, before he frowned. "Does it make you feel better? The worry?"

"Yes," you had answered truthfully. You curled a lock of damp hair behind his ear. Someone has to worry for you, you'd thought. Loki smiled again. "Then I'll allow it," he murmured softly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And he did.

A silent tear rolled down your cheek as your fingers crept around the daggers hilt. The peace of the realm would soon be broken. Wails of anguish would rinse the clouds, public displays of grief filling the air with heavy sighs and glowing orbs. It should have been allowed for your love, but it wasn't. Asgard should be in mourning, and soon it would be- you would make sure of that. You only wished you would be there to see it.

"He loved you all, and I'll never know why," you said solemnly, heat flushing your cheeks. "It was never deserved, never appreciated. Especially not by you." The final word darted like venom between your teeth.

Odin laughed. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I never did understand him," he crooned, not deigning to look at you. The dagger slid from it's hold against your thigh. "You never tried." you whispered.

In the briefest of moments, you whipped the dagger with trained precision. The thin blade rested beneath the god's chin, digging into soft, fat flesh. From behind, the guards would see nothing.

"Ah," the Allfather hummed, tilting his head back ever so slightly. His stance never changed. "I commend your audacity my dear. Truly. But you see, I am not the monster that you think I am."

Something in his tone made you pause. You had been fully prepared to sink Loki's dagger into his throat without mercy. Ready to hear the wet gurgle of breath fighting blood. Escaping retribution from this was not an option, but you didn't want it. You wanted to see the look on Odin's face as the lights went out. You wanted to see his one staring eye glaze to the heavens as life left him. For him to know with his dying rattle that someone cared enough for Loki of Asgard to avenge him, no matter the cost.

"You are a monster," you panted through gritted teeth. An unnerving smile began to crawl across Odin's lips. "True," he said coyly. "But not the one you think I am."

Your eye twitched, taking in the opaque blue of his stare that suddenly sparkled with more life than you had seen in years. Your stomach churned, the hand holding the blade beginning to tremble.

"With my dagger too, how poetic," Odin whispered with a smirk.

You gasped, jumping back as the blade tumbled towards the ground. It disappeared in a flash of seidr before hitting the marble.

It can't be-

"Guards!" the Allfather thundered, straightening as they resumed their posts. "Show the Lady to my private chambers. There are matters regarding Prince Loki's memorial we must urgently discuss."

You saw the guards throw confused glances to one another as you stood slack-jawed beneath the veil. Odin raised your hand, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

"It will heal," he murmured against your skin, before letting the hand fall limply to your side. The King leant closer, the ghost of his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do not waste your worry."

The familiar words ricochet between your ears, heart thumping as you followed the jostling procession across the balustrade. It was all you could do not to faint. The implications, if your mind did not play tricks, were too vast.

So you decided to focus on the gait of the King as you placed one foot in front of the other. On the swagger that had not been there when you last spoke weeks before. As if the weight of another’s passion still hung between his thighs. He would not part with that. You smiled, feeling it grow as you watched the unmistakable way his shoulders swayed back and forth with each long stride. The undeniable spring in his step. Singularly focused, like another you had known. It held a promise. A hope.

It was a ten minute walk to the King's chambers.

So you focused on the sway of his shoulders. On the mischievous spring in his step. Only that.

A/N - I wrote this on the back of a bus in Morocco and haven't messed with it much - i do like the concept though, hope you do too! Thanks to @lokischambermaid for her enthusiasm when I first mentioned it a while back :) Love you! x If you want to see what 'after' might look like - check out Praise Him (smut) which is also based on this concept :) It's one of my earlier fics though and it shows 😂

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[felassan]

Text reads: "Then head to the dining hall. A plate, a fork and knife, and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Rhodes says this is both a funny (and sad) look at Solas' isolated existence and an example of the detail BioWare's art team has put into Veilguard. 'It's a case of letting you see the story,' he says. 'It's like when you go to a friend's house and you see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them.'" [source]

please this is so sad.. it's killing me. he's been all alone like this for ten years

[bgc-592]

New Chronicles!

The Wiseau Chronicles: SV, AO3

[circusgoth-dotcom]

why is it so hard not to "erm actually ☝️🤓" when it comes to special interests/hyperfixations

[lovely-v]

the tag you put on the sunflower and chicken bun post has been cryingggg lmaooooo

KDKFJKDJSK thank u for being a real one and getting my The Room reference

[contentloadingandstuff]

"Tell us what we want to know, or he gets it." - Genshin Girls x Male!Reader

A/N: Trying a new format today - let me know if you would like to see more. Also, Reader is always the same species as the character in the pairing, ex.: Miko and a Kitsune Reader. Another thing, characters distinguished with color are those that would definetely act as described. Just thought I'd clear this up since many authors leave their readers guessing. Anyway, enjoy! CW: Angst, light whump. Mentions of torture without graphic descriptions, reader death.

She has been captured, and the enemy demands information. Before long, however, she sees you - opposite her and in the same chains...

Cracks Immediately

To be honest, they would have broken even without seeing you in danger. Though there are exceptions, most people - just like them - could not hold out under torture. It’s not a reason to be ashamed - especially if it results in not a hair falling from your head. The situation was distressing enough on its own, but with you she falls into a desperate panic. Whatever needs to be said to keep you safe, she’ll say - even if it will have consequences. As soon as she can, she will hug you tightly, never wanting to let go again. You’re her world, and her heart would fall to pieces if anything happened to you.

“Wait! I’ll tell you everything, j-just don’t hurt him!”

Characters: Furina, Noelle, Xiangling, Collei, Nilou, Sucrose, Fischl, Ganyu, Yoimiya, Kirara, Barbara, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yun Jin, Collei, Layla.

It's A Dealbreaker

Gritting their teeth and powering through torture, or at least trying to - that's what they did before you were introduced into the equation. They have secrets and ideas that they will protect with their life, but not yours. Never yours. They could never forgive themselves if they were the reason you suffered. But all of this, it's your fault. If you weren't so lovely, kind and caring, she would keep her lips sealed. Regardless, you're one weakness she doesn't mind. 

“Ugh… Fine. I’ll talk, but keep your filthy hands off him.”

Characters: Emilie, Rosaria, Chiori, Beidou, Hu Tao, Ayaka, Shinobu, Mualani, Faruzan, Charlotte, Yae Miko.

They Can't Take It...

She is strong. She will endure whatever they throw at her. Even when they threaten you. She will look in your eyes and see mutual resolve. You can do it, both of you, she thinks. Except not. Even if you stay strong, she won't. She'll crumble. Screams, blood, tears, agony inflicted on you thanks to her. What has she done? You don't deserve it, you don't deserve anything else but love and comfort, not being made to suffer. She'll put a halt to it, she'll run to you and take your broken body in her arms. She'll tell you that it's okay, it's okay, I'm here. They won't hurt you any more. 

“Stop! Stop, please! I’ll talk! Don’t you see he’s had enough?! Please…”

Characters: Amber, Lisa, Keqing, Shenhe, Kokomi, Ei, Kujou Sara, Candace, Lynette, Navia, Chevreuse, Chasca, Xilonen.

Standing Her Ground

This one knows what and who she's protecting. If what she knows falls into the wrong hands, hundreds could die. Surely you understand…? It's not right for you to be tangled into all of this. She's sorry, she really is, but she can't say anything. That doesn't mean she won't break down at the sight, that her very soul isn't pierced by every scream leaving your lips. Long after it's over, she won't be able to look you in the eyes with anything but shame. She did the right thing - she saved lives. But how can she feel any satisfaction when it’s you who paid the price? No matter if you forgive her or see no offense in her choice, your blood has been smeared across her mind and your pain will haunt her dreams until her last day. But whatever it may take, she will not let it happen again. Ever.

"I'm sorry, my love... I'm so sorry..."

Characters: Lumine, Jean, Mona, Eula, Yelan, Xianyun, Dehya, Clorinde, Mauvika.

Until Death Does Us Apart

Only when the last breath leaves your body does she shed tears. She kept her resolve strong. For you. Seeing her suffer would worsen your agony, filling your last moments with absolute despair. But she held out, allowing the sight of her features to guide you to your deserved rest. She will not ask for forgiveness, for there is nothing to forgive for - she did the right thing, kept to the word you’ve sworn. As a rose’s petals, her lips were sealed - and so were yours. You protected your people, your children, your nation. Although she does not have the power to bring back what they’ve taken, she will make sure the vengeance goes down in history. When the bodies of your killers turn cold, she will exile the weak and raze every yard of their home, pouring salt on the scorched earth so nothing may grow there again. Only then, when justice has been served, will she allow herself to mourn. Regardless of whether she comes back or crumbles in the mind, she will do so knowing that she did what she could for you.  

Raiden Shogun: “A stalwart companion, to the last. You will pay his weight with blood, I will see to that.” Arlecchino: “You have left many orphaned today, Y/N. We will mourn your departure dearly. Rest well - know that o-our children are safe, my husband…” Ningguang: “You didn’t deserve this… Not in any world or by any design of the stars… Forgive me for loving you, Y/N. You would live no if not for me... I will make sure your sacrifice does not go in vain… I p-promise, Y/N.”

Thanks for reading.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Am I the only one who feels like HTTYD isn't as memeable as Shrek or KFP? I know we have "You're as beautiful as the day I lost you." and the famous dancing Toothless, but that one was really from a parody recap. Other than that, I really don't see a lot of memes from it.

I think that means HTTYD is successfully doing its job with the type of narration it intends.

There are comedic lines like "talking fishbone" and "thanks for nothing, you useless reptile" that fandom has parroted since the early days. There's Hiccup encouraging Toothless while the Light Fury looks aghast as a meme template. And fandom can find anything to josh with, be it Hiccup's hot froglegs in HTTYD 2, or Hiccup's love affair with scrap metal from RTTE, or throwing everyone in the dungeon who made a Stoick joke (I am DATING my time in the fandom here, y'all). There will always be moments we play with, as it were.

But HTTYD, while funny, is built on heart. Shrek and KFP have heart, too (especially KFP), but they're built around different vibes (especially Shrek). Shrek was an intentional, abrupt, genuinely shocking aberration from animated fairy tale movies. For people who weren't around when it happened, there's a REASON it was a HUGE, rocking sensation and has become part of permanent culture. Meanwhile, KFP is a comedy action. HTTYD, at its core, is the story of a boy and his dragon, and a boy and his dad. I wouldn't expect fan response or general societal response to respond to these different frameworks the same way.

When audiences think about the impact of HTTYD, they aren't thinking about the pleasurable absurdisms that lead to "You're tearing me APART, Lisa!" or "I don't like sand" (which actually, for the record, I think is an unironically good character scene, sue me).

You ever watch a movie where they try soooo hard to be meme-able? Or they're throwing in jokes at places they shouldn't? I'm not not not saying it happened here, but one of the things I think THW could've improved was by reducing the number of gags it tried to run - while competing for time to emotionally conclude a sweeping trilogy. Sometimes it's not the place for a movie to have the content that'd make it meme-able. HTTYD's always been funny, yeah, and that's part of the franchise's charm. But different types of funny bring different audience results, and you ain't gonna beat Shrek when it comes for appropriate humor vibes for memes.

I could be forgetting a ton in my sleep-deprived state. But I'd agree it's not as meme-able as Shrek, one of the most meme-worthy pieces of media to exist. It means both have their place in the ecosystem of movies, and it makes both of them fantastic for what they are.

[honorhearted]

There was a smallness to Emma as she sat there, her voice equally diminutive as she whispered, "I hope you know there is no laughter nor disdain from me, my... objections are selfish, but they have nothing to do with your worth. You are... you know what I think of you."

"Do I?" Benjamin weakly asked. "Em, up until now, I thought things were going very well between us...I-I actually thought I might have a future beyond this war with someone I care for -- alongside your family, even. I'm quite enamored by your parents and the way they run things in your kingdom. It's...quite frankly what I hope we, ourselves, can one day achieve here in the colonies."

Emma shook her head. "But I'd be different," she persisted. "You can't be sure you'd still like me once I'm... all... scared and insecure. You are seeing it right now. I'm... listening to you, I am, but I'm terrified."

Benjamin shrugged, tossing up his hands. "No, of course I can't know," he agreed, "but maybe I want to take that risk. And if you don't...well, then it's as I said: I can't force you. But I also can't wait around either, because whether we like it or not, Mary and her fiancé have the right idea. Time waits for no one."

Emma's eyes puddled as if she'd been slapped. Rising from her seat on the bed, she tossed aside her pillow and came toward him, each despairing step trampling across his heart as he swallowed. "So you won't even speak to me anymore?" she lamented. "I'm not-I won't fight you, I just need to understand... If I can't... If I can't try this, then it's all gone?"

Throat bobbing reflexively, Benjamin suddenly found it difficult to speak, to breathe. "You make me sound so selfish," he whispered. "I don't want to lose your friendship -- of course I don't, but...how else can I respect your wishes? If we remain in one another's orbit, I know I wouldn't be able to keep my promise. And that's not fair to either of us."

Emma nodded. "No, you are right-you are obviously right..."

Was he? The longer he peered back into her bright, injured eyes, the more Benjamin found himself spiraled into a state of uncertainty. It pained him unlike any other to draw up such a cruel, definitive ultimatum.

Turning away from him, Emma cut back over towards her desk and leaned against the surface, drawing in several slow, clumsy breaths before she concluded, "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to-I don't know what to tell you, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do."

Wincing, Benjamin looked at her face, the ground, and then slowly back to her face again. "If you can't look at me and instantly think yes, you're the one, then the answer should be obvious," he murmured. "From what I've been told -- from what I've been feeling -- you behold that one special person and just know. And if you don't know with me, then you have your answer." Flexing and curling his hands, Benjamin ignored the burning sensation of unshed tears and exhaled. "I'll go now," he promised. "Clearly, my being here is causing you pain...and I never wanted that."

I never wanted any of this.

you're more than enough for me. Otherwise, why would I have opened myself up to the humility of rejection? Of laughter and disdain? Because some things are just worth the risk, Emma. Somewhere deep inside, you must know this."

She wished she could believe she'd stay enough, that she wouldn't have to live with the fear that soon enough he'd be expecting more and grow resentful of her. She couldn't feel that small again. "I hope you know there is no laughter nor disdain from me, my... objections are selfish, but they have nothing to do with your worth. You are... you know what I think of you." She wasn't kidding when she had called him perfect; sure, he was a man, he'd have his flaws like anyone, but that didn't change her feelings.

"And when have I ever asked for more than what you already are? I don't want more, Emma -- I want what we have here...now...but forever"

Could he want that forever? For her to be with him but unable to express her feelings in words? He didn't even know the Emma she'd become once she'd look at him as an official romantic partner, he couldn't know if he wanted her. "But I'd be different... You can't be sure you'd still like me once I'm... all... scared and insecure. You are seeing it right now. I'm... listening to you, I am, but I'm terrified."

When he said 'but if you don't want me' it took all her self-control not to say that she did want him, because it wouldn't be fair to him to say so when she also was suggesting to go back to being entirely platonical friends. But her eyes went back to him in an instant when he continued by pointing out he couldn't pretend.

so a separation will mean precisely that: an irreversible break.

That was a terrifying thought. Understandable, and she could not hold anything against him, he had been, once again, perfect, he had tried, and she knew he was right, but she still got up from her bed even if she had no particular plan, tossing the pillow to the side.

"Tell me no, Emma. Tell me you don't want to continue seeing me, and I'll walk through those tent flaps and out of your life forever. Because I would do that for you. Because sometimes, enacting genuine affection means losing the ones you love most."

"So you won't even speak to me anymore? I'm not-I won't fight you, I just need to understand... If I can't... If I can't try this, then it's all gone?" she asked anxiously, but mentally scolded herself for sounding so pitiful when he had the right to set such boundary. "No, you are right-you are obviously right..."

Truth was, telling men no had been sad, heartbreaking at times, but she had never wished to say yes. She had wished to be able to say it, to feel that way and indulge in it, but she had never been in a position where it was killing her to reject someone before.

She went to her desk just to do something, resting her hands on it and breathing, attempting to think, to ignore the way her heart was beating so fast that it was making difficult to breathe, and more than ever felt the need to start running, just run and run until there'd be only trees around her.

"I don't know what to do," she pleased, finally having no choice but to say exactly what she was thinking, and looked at him at loss, "I don't know what to-I don't know what to tell you, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do."

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: The End

A/N: This. This series is my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel, and these final brush strokes literally tore me apart. I poured my soul into this one. If you hate it, please don't tell me. But if you love it, please do because this is my everything. I hope it's enough.

Need to catch up? Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death, illness, reference to sex, I think that's all.

Word count: ~2.5k

Four and a half years. That's all you have left. It's not enough.

******

The years slip away with Elvis going back and forth every couple of months like he did before. The kids get older, you get older, and Elvis gets older too. Every time he leaves, it tears out another piece of your heart knowing it's getting closer and closer to the last time you'll see him. He's in good spirits every time he visits, but it's hard not to notice his body declining. Making a portal to send him home gets harder and harder, but he still maintains that he's fine. You both know he's not, but what is there to do about it?

And then, before you know it, it's July of 2027, or 1977 for him. John Jessie is 10, Erin Love is 7. Your babies have been replaced with kids and your youthful, vigorous husband is replaced with a man you know is past his prime. He doesn't know it, but you do. He has a little over a month left and you find yourself falling apart at the smallest things. He kisses the back of your hand while you all watch a movie together and you have to get up and go to the bathroom to weep. He sings in the shower and you lay in your bed and rock your body while the tears stream down your cheeks. You drive to dinner with him in the backseat of your minivan between the kids watching a movie on the little screen that comes down from the ceiling of the car and when he laughs you almost have to pull over to keep from crashing as you drive with teary eyes.

He stays with you for a full three weeks because you continue making excuses to keep him around. You need him to help with this or the kids have something going on that he should be there for. In reality, you can't bear the thought of saying goodbye. Because this time you know it's really going to be goodbye. And you can't tell him, so he'll treat it like any other parting. He'll kiss your cheek and say "until next time, honey" like he always does.

But you know there won't be a next time. And the knowing is eating you alive.

In early August, a summer thunderstorm rips through in the middle of the night. Elvis is still there, wrapped around you breathing softly as you lay awake trying not to cry. There's a sharp flash of lightning and not ten seconds later, a crash of thunder tears into the quiet night. You listen for opening doors and sure enough, in less than a minute Erin is in your room and on your bed.

"Daddy!" Elvis sits up and she snuggles into his warmth. He strokes her hair and shushes her gently.

"You're okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you."

John Jessie walks up to the bed cautiously.

"She okay? I just came to check on Erin-" There's another flash of lightning and John Jessie jumps. When the thunder crashes, he crawls into the bed next to you. He might be a big 10-year-old, but you're still his mama. The rain is coming down in torrential waves and you hear hail start to plunk against the windows.

You and Elvis sit with both kids in between you and the power flickers. Erin gasps and John Jessie pats her hand.

"It's okay, sister." Elvis kisses her hair.

"Your brother is right, sweetheart. Nothin' to worry about."

Just then, the power goes out fully.

"Daddy!"

"We're alright. Your mama will go get a candle to light." He looks to you in the dark and you grab your phone and turn the flashlight on. Then, you slide out of bed to find a candle and a lighter. It takes you a minute of fumbling around the house to get what you're looking for. When you make your way back down the hall to the bedroom you pause just outside the door and your heart stops.

He's singing.

In the twilight glow I see

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When we kissed goodbye and parted

I knew we'd never meet again

Love is like a dying ember

And only memories remain

And through the ages I'll remember

Blue eyes crying in the rain

Some day when we meet up yonder

We'll stroll, hand in hand again

In a land that knows no parting

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When he reaches the end of the song, you're on your knees on the floor in the hallway, tears soaking the front of your night shirt, biting your knuckle and trying not to hyperventilate.

How will you survive without him?

You won't. You can't.

The power flicks back on and you hear both kids cheer. You quickly try to pull yourself back together and as you do, you make a decision.

You're not sure how you'll pull it off, or if you even can, but your mind is made up to try.

You walk back into the room and get back in bed with a new determination.

"You okay, honey?" Elvis looks at you curiously. You smile brightly.

"Mhmm! Now, let's get these kids back in their own beds." He shakes his head.

"You're somethin' else, honey. Twenty years together and you still keep me on my toes." He leans over and kisses you softly and then you each take a kid back to their bedroom. When you come back together, you settle into his arms and relax. Tomorrow, you'll think of a plan.

******

The next day comes and goes and so does Elvis. While the kids are at school, you make love and open a portal. You give him the next rendezvous point for the fall, knowing you'll see him before then. As expected, he kisses you and says he'll see you next time. Before he leaves, though, you grab him one last time and pull him into a deep kiss. Memories of every one of your kisses over the last 20 years comes crashing into you and you shake as you hold him, not wanting to let go. You have your plan, but if it doesn't work out, you want your last kiss to be a real one.

"Honey, do you want me to stay?" The portal shimmers behind him.

"Yes. But I know you can't."

"I don't have to go right now. We can make another one later." You look into his eyes, the same eyes that met yours in fear when he first appeared in 2007.

"No. If you don't go now, I'll never let you go."

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" He doesn't want to leave you if there's something wrong.

"I'll be fine. Now go. I'll see you soon." He smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

"I love you with all of me, y/n. Always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Elvis." He squeezes you tightly one last time and then turns and walks through the portal. When it disappears, you sink to the floor. You have no more tears, so instead you pray. You pray for him, for his body and his soul. You pray for yourself and your kids. And you pray that your plan will work.

******

On August 15th, 1977, at 10:30 pm Elvis arrives at his dentist's office. It's a rather routine appointment, so he doesn't think too much of it. But when he gets back to the room and sees the shimmering portal, he's stunned.

This is not your agreed-upon meetup time or place. Somehow, he's alone in the room, but he knows he doesn't have much time before the dentist comes back. He decides there must be some urgent reason for you to show up here and a pang of worry hits him. Hopefully the kids are alright. The dentist knocks to let him know he's coming back in the room and Elvis takes a breath and walks through the portal, hoping he can get back without the dentist noticing.

"Honey, what the-" and then he sees you. Your eyes are wild and you're chewing on your thumbnail. It looks like you haven't slept in days, because you haven't, and your eyes are puffy and red with the remnants of your last crying spell. He immediately walks to you and wraps his arms around you. "What happened? Is it the kids?"

You lean against him and take in his warmth. You're afraid to move or speak in case something you do upsets him and causes what you're trying to avoid.

"No, it's not the kids. They're fine."

"Then what is-"

"It's you."

"Me? What about me?" You back up and look into his face. How will you tell him?

"You- if..." You trail off, not sure what to say.

"Honey, you're scaring me. You better tell me what's going on right now."

"I have to tell you something. And I need you to trust me. And then you have to make a choice." Your heart is pounding in your chest. You've thought of this moment so many times in the past two weeks and now it's here. The decision to give him a choice was not an easy one, but you know him. Telling him what to do is never the right option.

"Y/n. What the hell are you talking about?"

You take a deep breath, close your eyes and pray silently. Then, you open your eyes and look at him standing in front of you.

"You're going to die tomorrow." It hangs in the air between you like some tangible thing.

"What?" He almost whispers it.

"If you go back, you will die tomorrow. You have to."

"What do you mean, I have to?"

"Because you already did. Look." You hold your phone up to him and show him on Google. Elvis Presley, January 8th, 1935-August 16th, 1977.

He backs away from you and covers his mouth in shock. He shakes his head.

"No. I don't believe it."

"Elvis, why would I lie to you about this?" He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. He searches yours for evidence that this is some kind of cruel trick, but all he finds is sincerity and desperation.

"You said I have to make a choice."

"Yes. If you stay, I can take you to a hospital and we can try to save your life. But you can never go back. You'll be stuck in this timeline forever."

"I'll never see Lisa Marie again."

"No."

"I'll never perform again."

"Not as Elvis Presley, no."

"Elvis Presley is dead."

"Yes. But you could live as John Burrows." He sits down in a chair against the wall.

"That's a hell of a choice, honey."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Maybe if I'm supposed to die..." You nod and turn away from him. Your shoulders quake as your body is wracked with sobs. You don't want to impact his decision, but you can't control the anguish you feel at the thought of losing him. "But maybe you were meant to save me."

You turn back to him, your face shiny with tears. He walks to you and wraps you in his arms like he has so many times before. He presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes.

"Y/n, you've saved me a hundred times over. You've made my life worth living. Save me one last time."

"You're sure that's what you want?"

"Yes."

******

The dentist rushes out to Ginger in the waiting room.

"Where did he go?"

"Who?"

"Elvis! He's gone!" She stands up and they frantically search the office, the parking lot, and the grounds of the building, but Elvis is nowhere to be found. Ginger calls Vernon in a panic.

"He's gone?"

"Vernon, it's like he disappeared! I don't know what could've happened." Vernon is quiet for a bit.

"Come home. I'll explain everything."

Back at Graceland, Vernon holds a discreet meeting with all of the most important people in Elvis's life. The conversation that occurs has been kept secret forever.

"Elvis is dead. Or, at least, that's what we're going to tell everyone. In 1960, Elvis sat me down once and warned me that this might happen. He said that there was a distinct possibility that he might disappear and never come back. If he did, he made me promise to proceed as if he was dead."

"What if he comes back?" Ginger is hysterical.

"He won't. He assured me he would be gone for good. You know how he is. We have to do what he asked."

Vernon looks around the room carefully.

"Elvis Presley is dead." They all nod in agreement.

"May he rest in peace."

******

The hospital staff think you're crazy when you insist that your husband is going to have a heart attack. Still, they run some tests and detect a good number of things wrong with him. They admit him and are shocked when he does, in fact, have a heart attack. Luckily, because he was already in the hospital, they're able to catch it quickly and stop it from doing too much damage. Still, this begins a health journey that will last the rest of his life.

But that's the important part.

He lives.

The miracles of modern medicine keep him alive well into his 70s. He watches your kids grow up. He cheers louder than anyone at every graduation and cries like a baby when he walks Erin Love down the aisle at her wedding. He even plays with his grandchildren and watches them grow up. He never stops missing Lisa Marie, but he's so grateful for the opportunity to be the dad he always wanted to be for John Jessie and Erin.

The two of you have your fights, like any other married couple, usually about you trying to feed him a heart-healthy diet. At one point he throws a whole baking sheet of salmon into the backyard to prove a point. You want to be mad, so you put your hands on your hips, but when he turns around to face you, you both erupt into laughter. You solve a lot of your problems by laughing together.

And once he's healthier, you spend a lot of time in bed together. Your lovemaking is not nearly as athletic as it used to be, but it's satisfying and you keep things interesting in your own ways.

But one thing has changed. You notice it the first time you have sex after his heart attack. You roll onto your back next to him sweating and breathing heavily and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Shhh. Honey, listen."

"What?"

"It's gone." And then you notice. There's no buzzing sound, no shimmery air.

No portal.

He sings quietly.

At last I'm where you want me

Don't you know, that's where I want to be?

I've been round for the last time

Oh, girl, what can I do?

Oh the time the web was woven,

How I fell in love, fell in love with you...

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @deltafalax @tacozebra051

[daughterofcain-67]

🅦hαt 🅞ncє 🅦αs 🅜ínє

(Dean Winchester x Reader)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Dean have been close for the past couple of years but you have hunting with them for the past few. You notice that he has seemed off when he came back from Purgatory and all you wanted to do was help. After an argument breaks out- you leave for about a year with a secret you can’t afford to tell.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: some spoilers - some may be MAJOR spoilers, read at your own risk (seasons 6-8, I believe: MAY NOT BE ACCURATE), a brief mention of a night of intimacy but no graphic detail. This story does not follow along with any specific episode

Your heart raced with adrenaline from the last hunt you were on with the Winchester brothers. It was a tough one too and it didn't help that you had been worried about Dean the entire time. You had been with the Winchesters for the past three years. However, there was a shift between the two of you ever since he came back from Purgatory.

You noticed that he had become lost in a way - especially since Cass was gone. You knew that Purgatory was almost like a Hell for Dean since he seemed to feel a sort of guilt. But he wouldn't talk to you about it and you couldn't read his mind. You felt like you were drifting apart.

You remembered the night that Dean finally came back. You knew that Sam had moved on and tried to make a life for himself. But you couldn't move on so easily. You knew at the time he had just moved on from Lisa, then the job got busier and busier with the Leviathan. Then the next thing you knew he was in Purgatory for so long and you never got to tell him how you truly felt.

At least, not until the night that he finally came back.

You remembered the way he looked all roughed up after he came back. How handsome he was, but maybe it was just because you were just so glad that he was back. One thing lead to another and you ended up spending a passionate night together and it was a night you could never forget.

Even if at this moment you were trying so hard not to, especially considering the current circumstances you were in personally. For the past several weeks you were carrying Dean's child. You didn't know how to tell him and a part of you knew he couldn't handle it with everything going on.

"Dean, what the hell is going on with you? I know you went through a lot of crap in Purgatory, and I know you must be missing Cass a hell of a lot right now. We all do! But if you can't get your head on straight or at least talk to somebody, you might end up getting yourself killed one day because you can't focus!" You tried your best to explain.

"Don't act like you know how the hell I handle what's in my head, Y/N." He stated with a growl. "You don't know half the shit I've been through. You weren't there when I was in Hell. You weren't there when Lucifer took over Sam's mind. I know what I'm doing so why don't you stay the hell out of it!?"

"I can't stay out of it because I care about you! Sam cares about you! You know if Cass were here, he'd-"

"Don't you dare bring him up. You know, I should have just listened to Sam when you first came onto the scene." He said and rolled his eyes before he poured himself another glass of whisky.

"Listened to Sam? What was it that he said? Dean, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're nothing but a liability! You do nothing but get in the way! We should have never brought you on that very first hunt!" His words broke you to pieces. How long had he felt this way towards you? And everything you went through, did all of this mean nothing to him? You had done your best to be there for him and he just thought you were in the way the whole time?

You saw the instant regret on Dean's face after he said what he did but it was too late. You looked away from him and your eyes started to burn with tears that were starting to form

"Y/N, wait, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it, Dean. You want me gone, then I'll leave. I won't be in your way. You want to self destruct, fine. You have Sam to worry about you."

Then you packed your bags and left.

*************************************************

All of that happened about a year ago.

For a year you went through a pregnancy and a birth alone. You didn't have all of the answers. You didn't know how the hell you were supposed to take care of your little girl on your own. But you were doing everything you could by taking it one day at a time. That was all you could really do at this point.

Throughout the pregnancy you were working at a Walgreen's and you were living in a small apartment and trying your best to get by. You were doing well for the most part though. Better than living on the road and hopping from one hotel room to another.

Luckily, tonight you were able to have your day off. So you spent your time with your beloved daughter, Y/C/N. She had Dean's forest-green eyes and your hair color. She was only about three months old but you wanted to protect her from everything that was out there, especially since you knew what dangers were out there. If any demon, angel or monster found out there was a little Winchester- who knew what kind of horror would be after the last piece of Dean you had.

Once you had finished giving your baby girl her bath and gotten her dress on, you noticed some lights flickering in the room. That was instantly a red flag in your mind. Of course you knew all the ins and outs of hunting and keeping your home safe because of your experience with the Winchesters. And there were some occasions when it really was just a blown fuse and there was no sulfur left behind. But you were always cautious, and understandably so.

You held the baby close as you went to your room and you watched as the lights started to flicker again. You took the can of salt on your dresser and used your free hand to open it up and you put it on your windowsills, beneath the door, anywhere to prevent demons from coming in. And even if they did, you had a rug in front of your bedroom door that had a devil's trap beneath it so it wouldn't get to you or your daughter.

Suddenly, you hear your apartment door bust open and you start hearing all kinds of commotion like a fight was happening only for a demonic cry to be heard. You covered Y/C/N's ears and held onto her and you wondered what the hell was happening out there. Soon, though, you started hearing voices.

"I think that's all of them. Let's get back so I can be ready for work at the station by Monday." Was that Jodi? What are was she doing all the way out here.

"We have to see if she's here though. Who knows what can be out there looking for her." That sounded like Castiel. When did he come back? How did he come back!? Your mind was swirling with so many questions.

You slowly got out of the bed and walked over to the door. When you opened it you saw Cass and Jodi look towards your direction and you watched Jodi's eyes light up and a smile showed on her face.

"Y/N! You're safe! It's so good to see you." She said as she walked over and that was when she saw your little bundle of joy in your arms, "And who's this precious thing?"

"Jodi, Cass! It's really good to see you guys! This is Y/C/N. She's mu daughter." You introduced.

"Daughter? When did that happen? Do you have a boyfriend here?" Jodi began to ask and you shook your head at the last question.

"No boyfriend, and I found out about a year ago, and Half Pint here is three months. I've just been here trying to lay low so nothing finds us." You explained and you could feel the angel's gaze. When you glanced over, you knew he could tell what happened. And who knew what Dean told him when he came back. If he even went to Dean that is.

"Does Dean know?" It was an inevitable, and reasonable, question that you knew was bound to come up from Castiel. He knew of your feelings for the older brother, and he knew there seemed to be something unspoken between you two for a while before he went to Purgatory. Other than that, you didn't know if Dean filled him in on anything else.

"I didn't get the chance to tell him. I left after a fight we had. Something about how he shouldn't have let me tag along on the first hunt." You felt a soft hand on your shoulder and knew that it was Jodi.

"Why don't you both come and stay with me? It'll be a lot safer that way and at least you won't be on your own. Plus you wouldn't have to worry so much about monsters coming in without backup." The sheriff said and motioned to the salt on the windowsills.

You thought about it for a few moments and looked down at your daughter who was rubbing her eyes like she was tired. You had to think of what was best for her. You knew she didn't need a mom who was stretched thin with work then having to worry about hunting. It would be great to have the help. No one said that being a single mom was easy.

"Yeah, that would be great, Jodi. I appreciate it." You nodded

~

So much had been going on since you've left and it was like Sam and Dean couldn't get a rest. After Kevin took a Word of God from Crowley and have him translate the tablets to Sam having to complete certain trials that Dean knew he shouldn't be doing anyway. And that was the current thing on the Winchesters' agenda.

Too much has been going on and Dean was already getting so tired of all of it. There seemed to be no end to it but he knew he had to stay determined through all of it at least for his brother's sake. He's pretty much left behind the idea of retiring from this gig. He tried that once and of course the Apple Pie life fell through for him.

What sucks about it is that Dean didn't have you in his back corner anymore. You weren't there to be his 'new eyes' on a situation or bring some kind of positive to a situation. You weren't there to have little drinking competitions with him, remark on crappy television with him, you weren't there to take his mind off this job he was raised in.

And pushing you away was another item on his never-ending list of regret.

But of course, with all of the things he had on his plate and having to save the world yet again, he couldn't exactly showed just how much he had been thinking about you even if you've never left Dean's mind. And Sam knew it too.

Dean was sitting at one of the tables in the Bunker since that's where he and Sam have been living. He knew if you were here you'd probably make it a little more home-y. Lately he had been focusing on the trials that Sam had to face. He passed the first one but he knew this was going to take a toll on Sam. If he could trade places than he would, but Sam could be just as stubborn as Dean sometimes.

Dean looked over at the bottle of whisky before he picked it up and poured himself another glass before he opened up his laptop to do some research outside of these books. The first trial that Sam completes was bathe in hell hound blood. The next one was saving a soul from Hell. The final was to cure a demon and that would be a whole other ball game when the time came up. One thing at a time. He wasn't sure how his brother was supposed to do the next trial but he knew that Cass said Sam's health would decrease almost at a subatomic level.

While Dean was deep in his thoughts of this trial business, his phone started to ring unexpectedly.

Dean glanced over at his phone and saw Jodi's name and picture show up on his screen. An odd surprise since it's been a while since he had heard from her but he picked up the phone wondering if something was wrong and she needed some kind of help.

"Jodi? What's up?" He asked and took a sip of his whisky before setting the glass down on the table.

"Dean? It's Y/N... we need to talk."

Thank you all for reading!

This is my 1st mini series for Dean Winchester so thank you for taking am interest in reading this! If you liked this little story please feel free to comment or like it! Especially if you’d like to see a second part to this story to see if the reader will tell Dean about their daughter in the midst of what’s going on. 🖤

Tag List:

@chriszgirl92 @wildernessflora

[spidybaby]

Could you do one where they date and they had a very bad breakup and years later they reunite and he asks her to marry him

She | part 1

Summary: You can't put the pieces of a broken plate back together and expect it to be alright.

Warnings: cursing.

I chose to separate this in parts because I think one only part will be a little too long. 😭🥺

"You know you can go and talk to her, right?" Sergio tells me, noticing how my eyes are glued to her. "And say what?... sorry for broking up to you when you needed me the most? ... or, sorry for broking up with you and having my assistant delivered the message?"

Sergio looked at me with lifted eyebrows, not knowing that part of the story. "You told your assistant to break up with your girlfriend for you?" His head is shaking with disappointment, "you'll be lucky if she even acknowledges you. I'll punch you in the balls if I was her."

Two years ago, Kylian and you broke up. He was away for a big match. You fought the night before over the phone because he asked you not to take a big job opportunity, not wanting you to leave Paris and move to London.

He told his family, friends, and even his close teammates that you broke up because of "different lifestyles". Knowing damn well that was not the case.

He blames it on being scared of the distance, being scared of you finding someone better. Stalking your instagram from his brothers own profile. You blocked him as soon as you stepped out of his apartment. But he couldn't blame you.

You were different, your hair was lighter, your posture was more secure, and your smile was bigger even tho your eyes weren't shining as they used to.

That London job was the start of all the big things you were now doing, being a CEO of a successful company was not easy, but you made it look like it. You weren't the ex of Kylian Mbappé anymore. You were a successful businesswoman.

Your return to Paris was a secret for all your past friends, not wanting him to find out. Not having the energy to deal with him, after what he did to you.

You knew he was looking at you. You can see his reflection on the glass in front of where you and your friend were standing. Was the cold shoulder enough of a reaction? Yes and no. You wanted to slap him. Maybe make him feel a minimum of physical pain as a payment of all the tears, all the bad days you had, all the problems he caused you.

But you would never, and he knew that. You weren't the one to fight, being the calm one between the two of you, always choosing words over anything else. He was the opposite. Football leaves that rage and anger he uses in the field, and sometimes a match not being enough, he would pick small fights. The ones you didn't engage with.

"You want to go?" Lisa, your friend asks you, noticing your body language. "No" is all you can say. Not wanting to hide from him, you learned to live with the thought of him wanting you away was hard, especially when all he used to do was tell you to never leave him, to stick by his side, he was the one doing just that.

After two hours, you announced you were going home. Leaving Lisa and your other friends at the party you made your way out.

"Y/n, hi," you turn to the voice, Tchaga and old friend say, walking towards you. "Oh hi!" You wave excited. "I've missed you so much, " he says and hugs you hard. "Are you back or just on vacation?" You smiled at him."I'm on vacation, but I'll be staying." You say excited, happy to finally announce to one of your friends your plans. "That's amazing Chérie, I can't wait to hear everything about London, but that's for later. I'll dm you on Instagram so you can give me your number".

You say your goodbyes, and you walk to your car. You notice another car parked too close to yours, not leaving any space for you to open your door and enter. "Great," you say, turning around and asking the guard at the entrance to help you find the owner.

He asked you to walk back to your car, finding the person who owns it. You do as you're told and walk back. The night was chilly but not too much. The perfect weather for your liking.

"Hey, I'm sorry," you hear. "I wasn't the one who parked. It was my wife." He says, paying attention to his jacket, trying to find his keys.

You smile a little, noticing Sergio so busy with his jacket. "Blaiming this on Pilar, I see," you smile at him, "I don't recall seeing her inside. Is she really there?" You ask jokingly.

Sergio smiled and got closer to give you a hug. "Never miss the chance to make fun of me," he laughs while hugging you "to answer. Yes, she's inside." You laugh at his words.

"You're leaving this early? ... what happened to the girl who used to leave until six am?" You look at the distance, wondering the same. "She's tired and has to wake up super early." You didn't lie. You do have to wake up early, but not that early.

"Pilar and I missed you, we really do," he hugs you again. Sergio was that person who was the father of the group, giving advice and helping as much as he could. "When are you leaving?" He asks. "I'm not, I'm back." Sergio can't help the smile that creeps. "I'm happy for you. Let me move and you can be on your way."

You mumble a small Thank you, and as soon as he moves you enter you car. You notice his car is now properly parked and pulling down the window, "Don't worry, I'm not telling Pilar about this," he laughs and says goodbye.

The sound of your heels was echoing through the long corridor of the building. You were walking next to Nasser Al-Khelaïfi, he asked you to help him with his own company, not having the time to direct it himself due to his president occupations on PSG.

He asks for the meeting to be help at his home, a big resident in the heart of Paris. Beautiful for sure. Totally secured, for obvious reasons.

"Bienvenue chez moi" (welcome to my home), he says happily. "Merci" you say in return. "Let's go to the balcony. The view is amazing," he says, walking you there. "How was the flight?" He says, sitting on his big couch. He didn't lie. The view was extraordinary. "It was amazing. Thank you for sending your plane."

Nasser proposed the idea of you working with him. At first, you didn't accept because your job was amazing, you loved your coworkers, and you had one of the best experiences working there. However, when he offered you most benefits and a bigger salary for a bit of less responsibility you had at your job, you really thought about it. Accepting at the end because you missed your family and it was a better labor opportunity, growth wise.

"We want to treat you with the best. Our new president deserves it. Let's have some champagne on your honor, y/n, " he says, opening a big champagne bottle. "Cheers," he says, giving you a glass and touching it with his.

The conversation was him telling you more about the job, more about what you needed to do, and even a little personal with him asking about your family. Nothing special.

"Mister Al-Khelaïfi" one of his service workers says, "You have a meeting at 10:45 and it's currently 10:40, the gentleman is waiting for you," you discreetly look at your watch, noticing that the time went super quickly. "Would you mind if I invite him to meet you, y/n? I want to introduce you to one of my team guys," Nasser asks."No sir, it's completely fine," you weren't going to say no to him.

"Please ask him to come out here," the girl nods and goes back inside. "You're going to love him. He's a special one," you only smile at his words.

Your back was facing the door, so you didn't see when this man walked into the room. "Ah, my golden boy." Nassar gets up and moves to the door. "Kylian Mbappé, the man himself honors me with his presence." When Nasser says his name, you can't help but choke with the champagne. "Oh miss, you okay?" You boss asks "yes... I'm fine, sorry."

You get up and turn to face him, his face all serious, his eyes all dull but beautifully shiny due to the sunlight, his beard was new, never seen that before. God, he looks so good.

"Bonjour, Kylian," you say, stretching his hands, "Bonjour" is all he says, taking your hands in yours. You can't help but look at the hands intertwine. You pull your hand back quickly, hating but loving the feeling. "Take a seat, Kylian, please join us." Nasser can't feel the tension, but you do. "y/n is the new president of my company," he announced.

Kylian can't keep his eyes off of you, the way the sun is making you look out of this world, "That's amazing, such a smart girl"

You can't help but smile a little. Mumbling a small "Thank you".

"Kylian is our best player at PSG. He's a star." But you already knew that. He was amazing since Monaco. He's been amazing since always.

"Actually, we have a game in a few days, be my guest and come with me," he says, all excited. For the first time, your eyes left Kylians. "Oh, thank you, Nasser, but I'll have to decline, I have so much to do with the moving and the paperwork..." but he wasn't taking a no for an answer. "Let me hire somebody to help you, it's my treat to you. But you're coming with me."

You just nod and smile. Even if you want to scream, you know better than that. "Well, Mister Al-Khelaïfi, I'll love to stay, but I have a few meetings of my own, I'll let you and Kylian talk alone." You say standing up, not wanting to be around him that much longer.

"Wait, let me bring you a small something I got for you. Kylian, please wait for me, just a second." He gets up and gently pushes you down my the shoulders. "Take you time, Nass," is all Kylian says.

The silence is uncomfortable, is thick, and it's tiring. "I like that color on you," you turn your head to his side, narrowing your eyes at his words. You only nod slowly, not engaging. "And your hair looks amazing, I like this lighter shade" you can only nod again.

He stayed quiet after that, thinking what else he could do. "So, your mom still likes mashed potatoes?" He pouted his lips out of anxiety, wanting for you to answer. After a few seconds without an answer, he gives up. He put his head down. "Does yours still have that old motorcycle?" You finally answer.

He smiled. His mom does have that motorcycle, the same one you once tried to ride, failing astronomically. "She does." You nod one more time, not knowing what to say.

But before he can ask something again, Nasser announces himself. "Here it is. It's a special little something for you." He walks with a big orange bag in hand, your eyes widen in surprise. You were expecting a bottle of wine not an hermes gift.

"You can go home and open it. If you don't like the color of shape, you tell me, and I change it." He hands you the bag and you take it smiling. "Thank you, sir. I'm sure I'm going to love it."

This time, nothing is stopping you from leaving. "I'll see you monday, sir. Thank you for your hospitality." You shake your hand with his "goodbye to you too, Kylian." Not expecting an answer, you grab your purse and with gift in hand walk out of the house.

"She's all that, don't you think?" Nasser asks Kylian. Nodding to respond, smile growing. "She is."

"It's a fucking birkin" Lisa says looking at the bag Nassar gave you. "A BLACK ONE THAT JEAN PAUL GAULTIER DESIGNED." You look at her with a smile, not expecting her reaction to be this one. She owned a few birkins on her own. "Shhh, Lisa, people are staring. But yeah, it's beautiful." You say touching the bag.

Lisa and you were having a nice wine date at your favorite old spot, the one you used to come to as a freshman in college. "I can't believe he still remembers what my mom likes." You sip your wine. "Why?" You ask Lisa, as if she knew the answer.

You were mad at him for doing this, acting as if everything was fine when it's not. When he was the one who broke you, the one who left you, and the one who acted wrong in all of this.

"I thought he had a girlfriend, the ex-girlfriend of that ex PSG player. I mean, I saw them make out like three times. " Lisa, the queen of not thinking before speaking, let out as if it's nothing. You made a discomfort face. "I mean... that's none of my business. I had some flings on my own." You say trying to convince yourself that Lisa's words didn't matter. "Yeah you were a whore, man. Did you even remember half of the names?"

You spill your wine back into the glass. "My God, Lisa, would you like a microphone? Maybe the people at the back of this place didn't hear you clearly." And all she could do was laugh. "It's not my fault you were playing freebies after he dumped you, y/n. I know it's hard for you to admit it, but you were looking to forget about him while trying to find someone who was just like him."

She was right. You tried to find someone like him, someone who you could trust with your life, someone who would know every bit of you, every stretch mark, every curve. But you didn't find that. Not admitting it out loud, you did try but failed, 99% of those guys were out of the door the next day, ghosting them or simply blocking them after the night. The other 1% didn't even had your number.

"I'm not engaging," you say, sipping your wine. "Then why you say something to begin with?" She looks at you with a smile that you wanted to erase. "I'm disengaging." She laughs hard.

"Why don't you talk to him? I know it's not the best advice, but baby, you need that. You need the closure you are looking for. And you will see him at the game, so do it." She did have a point. The closure can work. "I... I don't think I'm ready to be in the same room as him yet." Even when you have already been alone with him, that was not by choice, so it didn't count. "His brother texted me," you say, smiling at the thought of his little brother, Ethan. "I miss that kid. He was nice." You nod.

"I never stopped talking to him." Saying that out loud felt illegal, even if you weren't doing anything wrong. "Why?".

Why? You ask yourself, maybe, because he was the only one who knew Kylian words weren't real, that he was the one who fucked up. "He knew." Is all you say, Lisa understood and didn't ask more questions.

You finish your wine and say your goodbyes, walking back to your parents' house, you were staying there till your things were complete at your new place.

Thinking about Lisa's words, you do need that closure. You do need to express everything. He didn't let you express. You needed that, but it was too soon, and he was the golden boy of the city. One wrong move and everything was going to end. You used Kylian wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but now it wasn't a certain thing.

But you needed to try. In an impulsive, though, you grab your phone and open instagram. Here he is, the only one at the blocked list.

You think about it, was it worth it? Was that really what you needed? You think nothing of it and press the unblock button. Opening his profile, you send him a dm.

@yourusername: Je peux te parler? (Can we talk?)

You put your phone inside your purse already regretting it. You look at the window of the stores, thinking if it's okay to give yourself a little something. Saying yes to yourself, you enter at the store, searching for nothing in particular.

"Y/n?" Your head turns looking at the woman standing in front of you. "Hi," you smile shyly, feeling a little uncomfortable. "It's so nice to see you. When did you come back?"

She was standing closer now, the little girl in her arms confused, looking at you. "I landed last week, haven't gone out that much." You smile at her and the little girl. "We missed you. It's good for you to be back." She touches your shoulder and leaves the store.

You see how she exits the store, going back to reality thanks to your phone notifications.

@k.mbappe: J'ai besoin de te parler (I really want to talk to you.)

@k.mbappe: chez toi ou chez moi? (your place or mine?)

You take a deep breath exhausted.

@yourusername: chez toi (your house)

@yourusername: donne moi ton adresse (give me your address)

@yourusername: Je serai là dans cinq minutes. (I'll be there in 5 minutes)

Kylian sends you his address, and you find a taxi outside the store, not sure if this is the right choice.

[kpop-cakepops]

Hidden (Kim Mingyu X AFAB!Reader)

Description: angst. You get in a fight with Mingyu :,)

Warnings: slight cussing.

(Haha, not me writing after years of inactivity 😂😭, enjoyyy. Also, this is not revised, so excuse any grammar errors)

It wasn't that you were jealous, not even insecure... it was envy. There you were, sat in the loneliness of your bedroom, tapping through the private Instagram stories of your boyfriend at yet another function. His friends sat at a large table, enjoying their time with him. Time you were missing out on. Time that could have been yours, too.

With a dejected sigh, you drop your phone on your bed and get ready to hop in the shower. The stories had been posted 2 hours earlier, so it came as no surprise to hear the front door of your apartment open and close followed by your boyfriend's heavy footsteps coming in the direction of your bedroom.

You quickly busied yourself looking through your closet for your pajamas until you finally heard him enter. He smelled faintly of alcohol as his warm hands came in contact with your hips from behind. "Hi princess"

"Hey" your response was curt and cold and you knew you were being petty, but there was not a single fiber in you telling you be nice.

He noticed. He always did when you were upset. A sigh left his lips, and he stepped back, allowing you out of his hold. "What did I do now?"

You gave him a quick glance. He was now sitting at the edge of your bed watching you closely, like a math problem he was in a hurry to solve. "Nothing. I'm just tired" he could continue trying to solve it for all you cared.

If only Mingyu were the type to back down.

"Clearly not just 'nothing'" he insisted. "You're upset at me."

"I'm not doing this right now."

"If you don't want to fight, then at least do a good job of acting like everything is ok." now he was upset too. A small part of you wanted to blame yourself for doing this again, but the bigger part of you was hurt and felt left out. Things that a girlfriend should not feel about her boyfriend.

"Where were you tonight?" You finally met eyes with him only to have him roll his at you.

"Seriously?"

"That doesn't answer my question" you insisted.

"I went to have drinks with some friends, it's my day off." He finally conceded. "I didn't invite you because I thought you'd be busy-"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your lips, "bullshit" you interrupt. "Bullshit, Mingyu. You know my schedule. You knew I took today off- shit, I took today off for you and not one single call from you? Not even lunch?"

"Babe, it was a party for Lisa, and we all know you two don't really-"

"Holy shit, that's the excuse you're going with? That it was a party organized for Lisa, who I don't really talk to? At least fucking try to make sense, Kim Mingyu." You had said you weren't insecure, but you started to realize slowly that maybe you were insecure. This had never been an issue to you before Mingyu, you had never felt less than, you had never felt...

Hidden.

"Y/N I was just trying to save you an awkward time-"

Your eyes locked into his guilty black ones immediately, and as if by instinct you knew. "Mingyu, do they know about us?"

He stopped whatever bullshit excuse he was giving you, lips parted and eyes tearing away from your gaze immediately.

You hadn't been together for too long, but definitely long enough for his friends to know, surely. You had told all your friends by the time you'd been dating for 3 months, it would make absolutely no sense for him not to tell his friends after being together for 5 months... right?

"You know my friends know-"

You dropped the clothes in your hands and stomped up to him, shaking your head furious, "No, I know your members know. But what about your friends? Do they know that we're dating? Or am I correct in assuming that you are hiding me?"

You were met by silence. He avoided your gaze and stood from the bed turning his back on you, a hand tangled in his hair. "This is not how I thought tonight would go. I can't believe you're doing this right now."

"You're embarrassed of me?" You didn't mean for your voice to tremble the way it did. You hadn't even realized that your eyes were threatening to spill frustrated tears down your cheeks.

Your boyfriend flinched at the sound of your voice, but he didn't have the courage to face you. "Y/N..."

"Is it because I don't look like one of your super model friends?" You ask, "Or is it because I spend 40 hours a week holed up in an office? Or maybe because I live in an apartment that's the size of your walk in closet?"

He turns to look at you defeated, "Baby no-"

But it's too late. The seed of insecurity within you has germinated, it's grown roots, and they're spreading and wrapping around you at the speed of light. You can no longer keep eye contact with him. In an attempt to hide your tears, you pick up the clothes you'd dropped and start walking past him in direction of your bathroom.

His large hand grabs at your arm softly, "Y/N, please, let's not do this."

"I think you should go home. I have work in the morning." With a soft tug of your arm, his hand drops, and you lock yourself away in your bathroom, pressing a wrist to your lips, hoping that's enough to hide the choked sobs you'd been suppressing for weeks.