#it takes up so much of my time but we all have our burdens 🩷

[laurapetrie]

She had so perfected the art of adoring herself that nothing could compare with her lifestyle. Her comb went up for auction at a fantastic price; her hairbrush was sold for its weight in gold. Virtuous women argued over who should wear her Cinderella slippers. Her love-letters were sold, her ringlets were sold, everything was disposed of. Her coquettishness had turned her into an ornament, a fancy, a frivolous toy which breaks at the first blow. She had wished to have quiet - she was forever drawn into fetes and distractions. She would have wished to be loved - she was told that she was beautiful. So she had abandoned herself, unresistingly, to the whirlpool which swept her away.

Jules Janin remembers Marie Duplessis in the preface to La dame aux camélias, 1851

[ghouldump]

Your fics are amazing!

Lestat and y/n remind me of a scene on what we do in the shadows:

Lestat: i would like to say that i think all marriage is a sham except mine with my darling wife y/n

Reader: ☺️👋

Btw do NOT feel pressured to put out content, this is suppose to be a safe space for creators and i am sure that the rest of the readers feel that way.

Kisses 💋

001

thank you 🥰 your words of encouragement mean so much to me 🩷 i prefer lengthy fics myself and so naturally i like to make my stories a bit long. i know that a few of you guys enjoy my writing and are wondering what is taking so long, so i really appreciate the understanding. i am also posting the requests at the same time, so you guys can have a few new posts to read instead of one. anyways, that so seems like him 😂 i literally came up with a tiny imagine for this 😙

“and what about you two, are you married?” the young woman asked you.

she and her husband were tourists in new orleans, choosing the city for their honeymoon. you spotted the newly wedded couple in the restaurant, they were the perfect meal for the night. although, you found them slightly interesting, forcing lestat to sit through the dull conversation.

“yes, lestat took longer than most, but we’ve been married for what feels like an eternity,” you laughed.

it had been only a few decades since you’d become mrs. de lioncourt, compared to your century of love.

“forgive me, ma chèrie,” lestat said lowly, as he kissed your hand.

“i didn’t grow up with the best example of marriage,” he said, a sly grin on his face.

“that’s a shame, my pa married my mama after only a month of knowing her, they’ve been together for over 30 years,” the husband bragged. you resisted the urge to laugh, watching as lestat went from grinning to frowning in disgust.

“you know what i find shameful? humans and their boresome matrimonies. you have no real reason other than legality burdens and for misogynistic idiots like yourself to have an at-home womb and servant,” lestat told the man, his nose turned up to him.

“that’s quite a harsh thing to say when you’re married yourself,” the young bride told him, furrowing her eyebrows.

“exactly, miss…y/n, was it? you sure have a handful on your hands,” the groomsman laughed, awkwardly.

slowly looking over at you, you smiled as you met his eyes, his fingertips softly brushing against your jaw.

“our marriage is beyond anything you've experienced in your short life, or your insufficient parents, the epitome of all things neither of your insolent brains could ever understand. your marriage is useless, nothing more than a piece of paper, and if you permit her beautiful name to even slip from your thoughts, let alone your tongue again, i will rip out your spine from-

“lestat,” you called his name, he stopped instantly, facing you.

“yes love?” he asked, his eyes softened. over the years, despite being your maker, he found himself willingly under your command, doing any and everything in his power to please you.

“don’t scare them too badly, honey, the blood will change its course, and taste funny,” you told him, your usual soft smile in place.

the couple was by now confused and disturbed, looking around for the safest exit.

“my apologies, ma chèrie,” he shook his head.

“you don't have to apologize, shall we eat?”

“ladies first,” he nodded, as you both bare your teeth, to plunge into your meals.

[rmadridcore]

Between Us - Part 1

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: You and Kylian have been inseparable friends for years, but when unspoken feelings bubble to the surface, everything changes.

Word Count: 2.5K

Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

Masterlist

Author's note: Hi! Omg this feels so surreal. I have been planning to start writing for the longest time and I can't believe I managed to finally get to it. This is my very first fic so I would LOVE to hear all of your opinions, I’m open to your feedback 🩷 Also, english is not my first language but I’ll try my best to make sure there are no errors. There will be more parts to come shortly. I have the second part almost finished and I’m planning for it to be 3 or 4 part series with a possible epilogue. Anyway, have a nice read and please tell me what you guys think! 🫂 P.S my messages are always open if you have any questions or if you would just like to chat 💌

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“What are these for?” Kylian yells playfully as he roams around your room, inspecting everything with the curiosity of a child. His voice echoes from the bathroom doorway, where you're busy applying the finishing touches to your makeup. Turning around slightly, you see him holding up an eyelash curler, a puzzled look on his face.

“It’s used to curl your eyelashes,” you respond absentmindedly, focused on perfecting your eyeliner. Kylian squints at the strange device, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“Looks like a garlic press,” he snorts, placing the curler back down on the cluttered sink, where your makeup is messily scattered.

He’s been wandering aimlessly around the room for what feels like hours, clearly bored and restless as he waits for you to get ready for the charity gala. He’s always waiting, never complaining, even when you take your time. It’s something about Kylian that never fails to surprise you — the effortless patience he has when it comes to you.

You leave the bathroom, stepping into the room where he’s perched on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the fluffy blanket as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. He’s dressed to perfection in an all-black designer suit, looking like he stepped straight out of a high-fashion photoshoot. The way the suit hugs his broad shoulders and the glimmer in his eyes when he sees you makes your heart flutter.

“You look stunning,” he says with a proud smile, his voice soft but sure. The blush creeping up your cheeks is impossible to hide, and he notices, grinning even wider.

“We don’t have to stay until the end,” he reassures you as you both settle into the backseat of the sleek black car waiting outside. He knows you too well, senses your discomfort at the idea of a long night surrounded by the elite. “We’ll stay for dinner, make our appearance, and we can leave whenever you want.”

His thoughtfulness touches you deeply. He knows how much you dislike these events — how they’re filled with pretentious people who only show up to flaunt their wealth. But you endure it, for him, and somehow that means more to him than he ever lets on.

You’ve known Kylian forever, since you were six and his mom invited yours to bring you to his seventh birthday party. The memories are blurry, but the birthday card you gave him that day still sits in his drawer. Unbeknownst to you, it’s one of his most cherished possessions.

As Kylian’s fame grew over the years, with him moving to Monaco and becoming a global star, you stayed in touch. He made sure of it. It wasn’t easy, especially as your feelings for him began to deepen, becoming more complicated and overwhelming. Falling in love with your best friend, a best friend who is adored by millions and surrounded by beautiful women, felt like the cruelest twist of fate.

It was a secret you carried alone, a burden that weighed on your heart every time you saw him with someone else. The girls that threw themselves at him didn’t seem to bother him; in fact, he enjoyed the attention. And why wouldn’t he? Kylian was magnetic, and you couldn't blame them for wanting him. What hurt most was knowing you could never compete with that — not when he saw you as just his best friend.

“I’m very glad you could make it. We’re always so happy to see you here,” a man across the dinner table says warmly to Kylian after you both take your seats. Kylian responds politely, his charm ever-present, before the man’s eyes land on you.

“I see you’re here with company. Would you care to introduce your beautiful lady to us?”

Kylian’s arm drapes casually over the back of your chair, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder.

“This is Y/N, my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

The man chuckles, embarrassed, and offers an awkward apology. Kylian laughs it off, but the words linger in your chest, twisting something deep inside. His best friend. That’s all you’ve ever been, no matter how many times he brings you as his date to these events, holds your hand, or tells you how beautiful you look. Each gesture feels like an evil tease, a reminder of what you want but can never have.

You watch him as he chats with the guests, his side profile as striking as ever. His sharp jawline, the curve of his nose, the way his eyes light up when he’s animated. To the world, he’s handsome, charismatic, sexy. But to you, Kylian is beautiful, in every sense of the word. It’s not just his looks; it’s the kindness in his heart, the way he smiles, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room.

“Are you comfortable? We can leave whenever you want,” Kylian leans in to whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine as it brushes against your ear. It’s such a simple question, but the intimacy of the moment makes your pulse race. How you long for him to whisper sweet nothings, to share his thoughts with you and only you.

“No, I’m fine. We can stay a little longer. I heard the dessert’s supposed to be amazing,” you whisper back, earning a soft chuckle from him.

After dessert, most of the guests get up to mingle, dance, or grab drinks. You excuse yourself from the table, telling Kylian you’re headed to the bar for a cocktail. He offers to come with you, but you decline, not wanting to interrupt his conversation.

You order a Mimosa and settle on one of the stools, enjoying a rare moment of solitude when a voice breaks your thoughts.

“Hey,” says a deep voice beside you. You glance over to see a blonde guy, probably in his late twenties, with a genuinely sweet smile.

“I haven’t seen you here before. People who attend these things are usually regulars,” he says with curiosity.

You smile politely, a little taken aback by the sudden conversation. “I’m here with a friend. His foundation is involved.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you call Kylian your friend. Even though it’s the truth, it feels like a lie.

The blonde introduces himself as Louis, and you exchange small talk. He’s polite and charming, though the jokes he cracks don’t quite make you laugh the way Kylian’s do. You’re pleasantly surprised at how easily the conversation flows, but when he asks if you’d like to dance, you glance at your empty glass and decide it’s time to return to the table.

Back at the table, Kylian is chatting with a seven year old boy, Leo, who you remember from a party at his parents’ house Kylian has brought you to about a month ago. You greet Leo with a huge smile, and the boy rushes over to give you a hug, his small arms wrapping around you tightly. Kylian watches the interaction with a proud grin, his eyes twinkling with affection.

After chatting with Leo about his football obsession, his new kitten called Sushi and his annoying grammar teacher at school, his parents came to say goodbye and head home, as Leo’s bedtime was getting closer.

“How was your cocktail?” Kylian asks once Leo and his parents leave.

“Delicious,” you reply with a grin. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah. I’m on my best behavior tonight,” he says, leaning his cheek on his hand, his gaze locked on you.

The way he’s looking at you, through his long lashes, eyes full of warmth, almost makes you lose your composure.

The amount of self-control you've developed over the years, thanks to him, is staggering. There have been countless moments when you've had to stop yourself from plastering kisses all over his face, from giving in to the overwhelming desire that courses through you every time you’re near him. It’s beyond your ability to count how many times you've held back.

If only he knew how you dream about the taste of his lips, how you’ve imagined his touch in ways he could never guess. Sometimes, the urge to shout your love for him feels almost unbearable. To tell him, without hesitation, how much he means to you, how deeply you care, how profoundly he has changed your life. You’ve fantasized about spilling everything, about finally unburdening your heart of the love that’s been trapped inside for so long.

Maybe, just maybe, if you told him, you could breathe again. You could sleep peacefully, without the weight of unspoken emotions suffocating you at night. If you could just embrace these forbidden feelings, let them free, maybe you wouldn’t feel so lost, so torn between what you have and what you desperately want.

But no. Kylian has helped you build up an incredible amount of self-control, without even realizing it. He’s made you master the art of restraint, but in doing so, he’s also kept you from building the courage you need to tell him the truth. To risk everything, even if it means losing him forever.

And that’s a risk you’re still too afraid to take.

The night passes, and as guests begin to leave for the after-party, you and Kylian head to the car.

“You can go to the after-party if you want,” you offer sincerely. “I don’t mind going home alone.”

“I’d rather come home with you,” he says, stopping in his tracks to hold the car door open for you.

You hesitate, but his insistence is genuine. No matter how many times you’ve told him it’s fine for him to go out without you, he never does. He always chooses you.

“You know that if you keep asking, it won’t change anything, right?” Kylian grins as he playfully nudges your side. “I’m your permanent plus one for quiet nights at home. Get used to it.” He opens the car door for you with a flourish, always the gentleman. You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but inside, your heart is doing a victory dance. Another cozy night in with him — it’s everything you secretly want.

The drive back is calm, filled with the comfortable silence that exists between two people who have known each other forever. It’s a silence that speaks louder than words, a silence that tells you neither of you needs to fill the gaps. Kylian’s presence is enough to bring you peace, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Memories flood your mind, like that one time after a particularly tough match. Kylian had come straight to your apartment, his face heavy with disappointment. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly what he needed. He had flopped onto your couch, resting his head in your lap as you softly stroked his hair. For hours, he laid there in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. You didn’t offer words of comfort because he didn’t need them, he just needed you.

It’s moments like those that make your heart ache. He needs you, but not in the way you want him to. To him, you’re his safe space, the person who can make the world quiet when it’s too loud. But what if you want more than that? What if you crave the noise, the chaos of love, the passion that makes your heart race?

When you arrive home, you quickly wipe off your makeup, exchanging your dress for a comfortable pair of sweats. Kylian’s already on the couch, lounging in the sweatpants he keeps in your closet for nights like these. He’s scrolling through Netflix, looking for something to watch.

“Who was the guy you were talking to at the bar?” he asks suddenly, not even looking up from the screen as you take a seat next to him.

The question catches you off guard. “What?” You blink at him, surprised. You hadn’t even realized he saw you talking to Louis. He could’ve asked about it a million times already, but why now?

“The guy at the bar,” Kylian shrugs, still trying to make it sound like a casual question, but there’s an edge to his tone.

“Oh, Louis? I just met him tonight,” you reply, playing it off like it’s nothing.

“Seems weird, that’s all,” Kylian mumbles, finally meeting your eyes. His brows are furrowed, and you can’t quite figure out why he’s bothered by this.

“We only talked for like 15 minutes,” you say with a shrug, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

Kylian says nothing for a moment, just nods and changes the subject, asking if the movie he picked is okay. You agree, and the two of you settle into your usual spot on the couch. About three minutes into the movie, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and you rest your head against his chest. His scent, fresh and familiar, wraps around you like a warm blanket.

These moments, these “friendly cuddles,” are frequent in your two decade long friendship. But to you, they mean so much more. In these fleeting moments, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that you’re not just his best friend, but something more. Ten out of ten strangers would think you were a couple, relaxing after a long day. And in these moments, you let that fantasy wash over you.

His hand moves absentmindedly, gently stroking your back. His chin rests on the top of your head, as though your bodies were designed to fit together. It feels perfect. But it’s also tragic.

Because Kylian isn’t yours. He never will be. No matter how many times you share these intimate, quiet moments, no matter how much his presence fills the empty spaces in your life, you’re always going to be his best friend. And while he never leaves your thoughts, you wonder if you ever truly cross his mind in the same way.

The movie plays on, but you’re not watching. You’re lost in the sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of his body against yours, and the ache in your chest that never seems to go away.

How many times have you thought about telling him? Telling him how deeply you’ve fallen for him. But the fear is always there, lurking in the back of your mind. The fear that if you tell him, everything will change. The easy laughter, the shared silences, the comforting hugs. All of it could disappear in an instant.

The movie ends, and Kylian stretches, letting out a content sigh. “That was good,” he says, still half-drowsy. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you reply with a smile, but inside, you’re screaming.

The guests at the gala had moved on to an after-party, but here you are, curled up on the couch with the one person who unknowingly holds your heart in his hands.

As you walk towards the door to go to bed, you pause, wanting to say something — anything. But the words don’t come.

And so, the night ends like all the others. With him, but not truly yours.

—————————————————————————

[yaskie]

Fighting for Cancer

All Stickers and emoji sales will be used for Uncle Dindo’s medical debts and balances for his wake and burial, Auntie Sam’s and my ongoing Hormonal and chemo treatment. We also set a targeted amount through our goal for donations. We thank you all, thank you so much for everything. We deeply appreciate all donations and purchases that will be made. To all who have helped me in the past. I am eternally grateful. Please help me share this post, reblog. It will help me a lot. ❤️‍🩹❤️🩷🧡💛 Hello Dear friends, I hope you are all doing well. It’s been a long time since I have made an update about my health and everything that is happening to my life. Life has been so busy.  As you read the title for this campaign. Yes, Fighting for cancer, as some of you know I fought with the same battle several years ago, to my friends who helped me financially and all. My never ending gratitude to all of you. 

I became okay and I chose to deal with financial struggles myself, because I know that I am already giving too much burden to my friends over the course of more than a year. I went back to do regular jobs despite lower grade pays in order to survive, and pay the remaining debt for my medication. Where I live, we are paid daily, not hourly and daily wages are between $12-$15/day. And work 8-12 hours a day. Unfortunately, life does not always end like a fairytale. I am doing this campaign again. Not just for myself but for the other two people that are important to my life. I guess this battle runs into the family. I lost so many family members battling this. I lost my Dad to Stage 4 lung cancer last 2015. And last night(March 25,2024) I lost my Uncle Dindo in the same battle, after several months of intensive treatment. It left us drowning with hospital bills, and debts and it cost us nearly $130,000 and is still running. Uncle Dindo left her wife and two daughters, one who is deaf and mute.  Not only that, my Aunt Sam, is also dealing with her Stage 3 Breast Cancer, and it costs us almost $2,000 - $3,000 a week. Her right breast has already been removed. But she is also under close observation. And she was forced to have her unpaid leave at her job, as she needed rest. This also adds up with the financial struggles that we are dealing with too. We have bad healthcare here in PH. And if you are not rich you will die easily.  As for me. After I survived my battle in the Lungs. Tumors have popped up in other parts of my body, most of them are benign(but closely monitored for changes), if there will be malignant tumors again that will also pop out too. If you will see my previous posts, last year there had been a concern about my breast and a surgery was needed, but I decided not to proceed and I went through herbal medication, as it is the most affordable way. They helped me, but some backfired. And I am so afraid to lose a body part. Unfortunately, I got bad pneumonia on-off, and the pain in my right breast is unbearable, after several tests. I am diagnosed with Stage 1. Doctors have already warned me in the past about this. And I also asked for a second opinion, because last year it was just only a close call. I will currently take hormone medication, and another chemo. I do not want another surgery at the moment, if it can be avoided. I have high hopes that I will survive this. I can still do jobs to pay for home and other bills. And be with you all. 

I decided not just to do this campaign alone, but I also made a Ko-Fi Shop to sell digital stickers. With a collaboration and help from a friend, we currently made 11 printable stickers that you can print on the comfort of your home or print shops with a size of 2x2 inches. You can also use the emoji stickers through your streaming channel, please message me through my Twitter, so I can follow your stream. And for those who printed the physical stickers, it would make us happy if you can tag a photo of them through my twitter. You can put them through notebooks, tumblrs….etc.

Here is the link for our Ko-Fi Store.

Please follow me on twitter or here on Ko-Fi for updates. As we are still working on more Sticker designs. We Can-CerVIVE.

I appreciate all the help that we could get. And thank you so much for understanding. Please take good care of yourselves. Never take your health for granted. Health is wealth. And prevention is better than cure.

Love, Jasky(Your Eternal Sprout)

P.S. To my friends in-game don’t worry you will still see me <3 I love you all! Stay happy and smiling.  These are the digital stickers that we are currently selling.

To all my friends, I badly need your help. Please. Thank you. Sorry for tagging you. Reblog and if you can tag your friends too. Thank you for understanding.

@measurelessdreamer @c1a1r3r3df1e1d @samblerambles @nearlybitches @sunhatllama @leonshinkai @shotce @crazyworldhuh @sparkie96 @silvertonguelover @fossil-finder @vietnoodle @irishspringyum @kevinbuiyin @angelspin @thecloudstan @neji-vuldarak @takuyasaeki1001 @valhethella @artofshiroginko @yuko27 @junie-junette @chris-is-not-evil @wuekka @nelyth-v @ya2do @rebrandedbard @tielmamon @signalboostr @mcqraw @risingoflights @travelling-hydaelyn @thedemonofcat @leonisdumbasallhell @litoperezito @priscilla-a-moreno @waywards-thing @chreonweek @heliosani @residentevilx4 @lemonadeswift @prozdvoices @doomednarrative @neil-gaiman @aussiepineapple1st @matchalilly @highball66 @purpledusty @diviedrawn @residenceevil

[nanamikentorp]

Hi Nanami!

I'm very new at this and don't know what particularly compelled me to write or send this. I've been seeing your responses to others and I thought they were really wholesome and wonderful, and I'm having a bit of a tough day.

I grew up in a loving household, however one where it's walls were full of yelling and screaming. The type of household that after years you stop believing love is really real, let alone soulmates. I won't reveal too much for the sake of privacy and dignity (and I truly don't wish to burden) but having two emotionally unstable parents who are resentful of everyone weighs on you after so long. And today was another bad day because of it.

It's hard to talk about these things because I know in retrospect, I got it good. I've rewritten this a few times - I don't know how to speak my feelings without feeling like a terrible daughter.

I also don't really know what I expect as a response from you either, Nanami. I know you probably get a lot of these, so no pressure. I think I just wanted an escape from today, and you're one of my comfort characters. Do not stress too much on what to say! If you do read this, I just hope you know how lovely you are and that I hope you have a lovely day, Kento <3

Sincerely, anon

Hello anon.

As I have grown older, I have realised some things.

Not everyone is perfect. But it matters that they try. Trying – genuinely trying – is a factor that is sometimes lost on us. In a world that is slowly inching towards, no, forced to be on their A game at all times we forget that humans are mistake makers. We all make mistakes. And there should be some allowance for that don't you think? But here's the question now, how much are you willing to forgive? This unfortunately is not an answer anyone can give you but yourself.

Boundaries are incredibly important. And the beauty of being an adult is you can set these boundaries with ease. You may be their child but putting across a small, "Hey could we not shout at each other and just talk this out please." should not be looked down upon. Be polite. Be loving. If they still do not listen, see point 1.

Things change as we grow. Our ability to take shit lessens, our understanding of ourselves increases and through this, so does our understanding of the world around us. This is good. You can now decide where you want to expend your energy. Take a step back, find your peace and comfort in other spaces. You're allowed to. Our parents aren't the only ones we build relationships with in the world. Spouses, friends, children, we do the same with them and family can come from anywhere

You are not a bad child for recognising your parents shortcomings or even, for speaking up about them. You are a human. You are allowed to have feelings of anger and dissatisfaction alongside feelings of love and affection. That is the beauty of the human experience. It's messy and cluttered and no one person is like the other. 🩷

Feel free to chat, anon. I'll always listen.

[wyn-n-tonic]

For the sleepover:

Your favorite memory?

🩷

you know what makes me so so so sad? that on desktop, Tumblr does not allow me to see the pink heart!

okay i have a few favorite memories but here's my favoritest one.

my sister was born when i was ten, so just.... remember that.

when i was thirteen, my dad's best friend rented some bungalow ass shit at Disney World and bought tickets for eight people. four adults, four children. it was really kind, he wanted to do something nice for our family after my father had been in recovery for breaking his back and was out of work. his kids were also pretty young. i was THIRTEEN. i also had super undiagnosed autism and people always got mad at me for being weird or withdrawn, especially when it would get to be Too Much(TM). i spent a week sharing a room with these spoiled ass children that are my cousins? idk. the screaming and the crying and the lack of privacy was kicking my ass. my sister was three so she also screamed and cried. and then i would get overwhelmed and start having a meltdown but, at that time, i didn't know that's what it was.

it was hot, it was loud, there were people everywhere, i was sunburnt and miserable and the people we were with weren't super duper kind about me basically shutting down and feeling terrible and crying all the time in full meltdown. like they weren't hateful but also i just remember them also thinking of me as a burden and i'd already been taking on so much at that time because i am TEN YEARS OLDER THAN MY SISTER and my father was recovering from having a broken back. my mother was working two jobs. i was doing the best i could as a parentified child and this was what was making me crack under the pressure lmaooooo.

so, growing up my dad was the only one who ever really recognized that i am just Not Like Most Kids(TM), he would try to remove me from situations as quickly as possible. we were only at Disney for a week and they tried to extend it for another week and my parents DID have two weeks they had scheduled off but my parents were both like, 'no, we really need to get the girls home.'

bestie, we did not go home. my parents drove us from Orlando to Knoxville where my dad gave me his credit card and set me loose in a Borders (YES, A BORDERS). then they drove us to Gatlinburg, TN, where they rented a cabin halfway up a mountain and gave me headphones and just let me sit on the swing reading all day and i had an entire room in the cabin to myself with my own bathroom that i didn't have to share. it was glorious. and it's all because my dad recognized that, like... i needed the noise to stop.

there's also the time i got drunk and made out with a professional soccer player.

[cheollipop]

my precious lyssieee <33 you're one big ball of warmth and sunshine, and I'm infinitely grateful to have you in my life <3 I'm so glad that's what this fic felt like for you;; the way you described it made me incredibly soft :""

reaching out can be difficult, especially when our mind is constantly trying to convince us that we would be bothering the other person and burdening them with our need for comfort. I'm glad I was able to show that yunho wants to be there, wants to hold reader and make sure that they got back up to face the storm, and most importantly, wants reader to know that he'll be right there to hold their hand through it all.

ahhh 🥺🩷 it's so important to always remind yourself that it will eventually get better. it might take time and patience, but happier days are just around the corner and you just need to push through with a few more steps <33

thank you sm alyssa 🥺 I love you soso much, your feedback means the world to me <33

you're enough

masterlist

pairing: jeong yunho x gn!reader

w.c.: 2k

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of reader having seasonal depression (pls be careful reading), established relationship

With the soft scent of baby wipes following him, Yunho helped you stand back up to face the storm within your mind.

A/N: this one's for a friend going through a rough time! I figured hearing these words come from yunho might help more than me saying them >:). be sure to treat yourself with kindness, especially during tough times! and don't be afraid to reach out -- you are loved, you are cared for, and you are never alone. <3

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Your phone pinged again. You knew you should reply to him, he must be worried. And yet, your body felt too heavy. So you simply blinked, once, twice, until the screen went black once again, returning the room to the dim state it had been in for the past several days. You wanted to move your arms, one of them going numb under you where you laid on your side. Your sheets were in a desperate need for a wash, but you ultimately decided to put off doing your laundry for yet another week. Just as you put off everything else – work, meals, showers. This was no way to live, you knew that, but you couldn’t gather enough motivation to do anything about it. So you remained in bed, tucked under your sheets, staring blankly at the window across from you, watching the raindrops race their way down to the sill. It was raining. How fitting, you thought, listening to the pitter patter of the water on the glass of your window and feeling your eyelids grow heavy with lethargy, slowly succumbing to the grip of sleep – something you’d had way too much of this past week.

Your eyes snapped open at the jingle of keys followed by your front door opening, a rush of panic coursing through you, but you still didn’t move. Not even the danger of an intruder could drag you out of the pit you had fallen into, you had realised.

“(Y/n)?” You relaxed, the familiar sound of you boyfriend’s voice calmed you down, and you slumped further into your pillow. The tension in your shoulders remained, though – you didn’t want him to see you like this.

A dark head of hair peeked into your dimly lit bedroom, eyes raking over your figure as you laid facing the opposite wall, head almost fully under the comforter. Yunho sneaked across the wooden floor to the other side of the room, small creaks sounding under his sock-clad feet. His eyebrows raised when he realised you were awake, gaze fixed on the window, only a sliver of it visible through the blinds as rain pelted against it heavily. He called your name again, this time softer – barely a whisper – but it caught your attention, dragging you away from your thoughts. Your eyes moved to his, a gentle smile you didn’t have the power to reciprocate spread across his lips to greet you.

You were certain you weren’t even close to looking presentable – you hair unwashed and matted, dark eyebags and dehydrated lips – and yet Yunho studied your face as if spellbound, as if the descendant of Aphrodite herself was before him. He took a few cautious steps towards you, eyes never leaving yours as he lowered himself to the mattress beside your resting figure. Instinctively, you pulled the comforter over the lower portion of face, gaze lowering to the pillow under your head, almost in shame.

“What are you doing here?” You muttered under your breath, the crackle in your voice enough to let him know you hadn’t been using it very much. You cleared your throat, a bright shade of red coating the shell of your ears.

“I haven’t heard from you in a few days, (Y/n),” Yunho spoke, voice matching yours in volume so not to disturb the stillness in your room. His hand carefully found its way to your hair, fingers lightly smoothing over the greasy locks. “Do you want to tell me what’s got my darling feeling so down?”

You shook your head, shying away from his touch as his fingers continued their ministrations. You missed the way Yunho’s smile fell for a second before he quickly replaced it, acting unaffected by the dark aura surrounding you – an aura that even he had to work to dissipate. You felt the familiar stinging at the corners of your eyes; you wondered how you hadn’t run out of tears by now. Even as you averted your gaze, his eyes remained on you, labouring to read your expression. The truth was, even if you did want to talk, you didn’t know what to say. Was it the change in seasons that spurred this unwarranted rush of sadness to course through your body, overwhelming your very being, backing you up into a corner and forcing you to isolate yourself from the world, from the people you loved and held dearly in your heart? Or was there some other, unknown justification for the state you had found yourself in? You didn’t know, so why subject the person you thought the world of to these unexplained emotions?

“Can you just – can’t you just go?” Your voice broke, and so did the damn holding back the well of tears pooling in your eyes. They fell, crossing the bridge of your nose and seeping into the pillowcase underneath your head, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth as you suppressed the sob building up at the back of your throat.

Yunho sighed, and you froze at the sound, afraid of the expression coating his face. Except he was pushing you further into the bed a moment later, making enough space for him to crawl under the sheets with you, now face-to-face as he laid on his side next to you.

“You don’t always have to suffer in silence, you know? I’m here for you,” he cupped your cheek, thumb swiping away at your tears. “I'm always here for you.”

Worry. That was the expression he was making. Not disturbance, not disappointment. You saved your bottom lip from the torture your teeth had subjected it to, allowing Yunho to wrap his arms around your shoulders, moving you closer and into his chest. As his warmth engulfed your every sense, you finally allowed yourself to let go, your sobs muffled as you buried yourself into his chest. His fingers continued to comb through your hair, a soft hum echoing in your ears as he rocked you gently. The rain continued its downpour outside, its harsh abuse to your window paired with your continuous sniffling the only sounds between the four walls. You nestled further into his arms, the material of his shirt soft against your skin. He smelled like baby wipes. He always smelled like baby wipes.

Yunho broke the silence after your tears stopped soaking his shirt. “Would you like to talk about it?” He asked again, his hand rubbing calming circles between your shoulder blades.

Just when you thought you didn’t have it in you to cry any more, your vision blurred once again, and you found yourself being pushed back into his embrace. Yunho, to you, was the epitome of warmth – his smile, the wrinkles by his eyes, the soft tone of his voice, the interminable kindness he’d shown you, and continued to show you even when you ignored his attempts of reaching out. You felt unworthy of it all, and yet he never ceased to give – kindness, warmth, comfort. As though he had an endless supply he was not afraid to use up. Even in winter, even while the storm banged against the glass of your window, he continued to send waves of burning heat through your skin. He pushed through the barrage of hostility in your brain, fighting away the melancholy that held you captive and allowing ease and serenity to course through your very being.

He didn’t push you to talk, simply keeping you tucked into his arms until you felt ready to speak your mind.

“I-I… I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. There’s no particular reason. I just feel-” you paused, letting out a shaky exhale. “- sad; hopeless; worthless – as if nothing will ever work out for me, and perhaps staying in bed all day, away from everyone and everything, is best.”

Yunho hummed and drew you even closer to his chest, perhaps unaware of his grip on you growing tighter.

“I just feel like my existence brings nothing but burden to the people around me. I-I didn’t want to be clingy and annoying, so I didn’t reach out. Why should I subject you to that negativity? W-what would I even say? That I’m the biggest fuck-up out there-"

“No. No, no, no. That’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself.” Yunho pushed away from you just enough to take in your tear-stained cheeks, the shake of your bottom lip as you tried to dry out the tears welling up in your eyes. You tried to counter, but he shushed you. “Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, it’s wrong. So, so wrong, my love. Just- Listen to mine instead.”

He leaned in to press feathery kisses to the corners of your eyes, his lips straying further to plant soft pecks over your eyelids, your forehead, nose, cheeks, all the while whispering praise against your damp skin. Beautiful, smart, hardworking, strong. He moved away to admire the scrunch of your nose after a significantly longer kiss to the tip of it, only to lean forward to lay his lips against the corner of yours. Yunho’s hand cradled your jaw, and you finally opened your eyes to look at him again. The smile curving the corners of his lips – so tender, so delicate – enough to send another wave of tears rolling down your temple and into the sleeve of his shirt where your head rested.

“I’m sorry if I’m too much,” you sniffled.

Yunho brushed your matted hair off your forehead, leaning in to press his lips to the skin. “You’re never too much. Don’t apologise for needing reassurance, sweetheart.”

“B-but… Am I not demanding too much from you?”

“Never,” he didn’t hesitate before responding, holding your face so delicately, a choked sob ripping out of your chest. “I would fly to the moon and back without a second thought if I knew it would make you smile. The only time you have ever been too demanding is when you asked me to leave you alone when all I wanted to do was hold you and fight the sadness away for you.”

You heart felt so full, so warm, wrapped up in Yunho’s arms while he rocked you to the beat of the soft melody he was humming. He let you cry – just as he had for the past hour – smile unwavering as he rubbed your back soothingly, occasionally running his blunt nails over your clothed skin. You wondered how someone could hold so much love in their gaze while they watched another break down and reveal the most vulnerable fragments of themselves. The emotions you felt, the emotions you had been feeling, were so dour, so bitter. Yunho’s comfort was a stark opposite of that – warm, gentle, affectionate. You drowned in the fervency of his embrace, his voice like honey in your ears, unravelling the tension you felt inside.

“I know it doesn’t look like it now, but the pain will pass,” he spoke so sincerely, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Is it bad if I can’t see that happening?”

“Not at all,” Yunho assured as he moved a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over your cheekbone. “You don’t need to rush to move on from this, love. Feel the sadness and accept it – it’s fine to drown in your emotions for some time. Never on your own, though. Not while I'm by your side.”

Yunho’s hand moved from your cheek to cover the back of your neck, giving it a subtle squeeze, his other repeating the motion at your waist while he gave the tip of your nose another kiss. You let your eyes flutter shut, missing how he continued to study your face, cherishing the peacefulness painting your features and hoping he was able to rid you of even the smallest portion of the pain you had been enduring all alone.

Maybe it was the way he phrased it, or maybe it was the smooth timbre of his voice, but you found yourself believing his words. Perhaps all you had to do was allow yourself to feel, rather than dwell over why you were feeling. Perhaps indulging in the comfort of others was okay.Perhaps Yunho was right and you weren’t too much – maybe you were just enough, simply human, trying your best to get through this wave of dysphoria. Perhaps just as the storm outside will soon pass, so will this cyclone of emotions swirling inside you – just as the sun will rise once again, the days where you felt okay will return.

In the homely embrace of Yunho’s arms, the soft scent of baby wipes floating in the air around you, anything and everything felt possible.

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[ahfeiandhisdao]

Since I am here again at 3 AM, will add my two cents

Basically, this Di Feisheng amnesia arc unfurled so many sides of the strained relationship of the men who lost ten years of their life because of some petty MFS.

As A-Fei forgets his life as merciless Di Feisheng (technically he did not forget the killing completely but it was blurred in his mind) , Li Lianhua does everything to reshape the memories. It can be a projection of Lianhua's own life as Li Xiangyi. Li Lianhua realised how directly and indirectly Li Xiangyi had caused so many deaths, so many unwanted miseries, so much pain that he had caused or blames himself to be th reason behind everything bad.

He might've wished to forget everything that weighed heavy on his shoulder. However he is too busy blaming himself, so he thinks he deserves the burden as a punishment. However, after A Fei's innocence about Shan Gudao's death gets proven, Li Lianhua tries not to remind him of his past immediately.

While he accepts the burdens of blames, he tells himself that he is soon going to die anyway, so trying to live a better life is not worth it. However A-Fei can have a better life if he slowly learns to be a better person.

We have seen Di Feisheng becoming a whole new person in this arc, or should we say, the inner child of him from Di Fortress, slowly took shape of a human.

He laughed, he joked, he tried to hide the fact that the food was unpalatable, he fought for food with a decade younger kid and ate that with a stupid smirk on his face. He was like a careless child out in the wild, who did not need to go every moment in a do or die situation. He learns he could be a person who can save others. Which wasn't really his motto during Di Feisheng era. But the fact that he is willing to save people, that confirms that the little Di Fortress fighter who hesitated to stab his opponent is still inside that hard shell of absolute menace aka Di Feisheng.

During Mountains red, he sulked when Li Lianhua tricked him into doing favours in exchange of secrets of his past.

This whole arc showed if Di Feisheng did not grow up through the horror of Di Fortress, he could've been a considerate, affectionate, gentle, light hearted yet strong, (merciless when needed) and stonehead , stubborn guy.

Li Lianhua did all he could to enable this persona to grow. Even in the Mountains red Villa, A-Fei flew in the absolute horrendous of a time 🤣 Li Lianhua created a situation where A-Fei's skills could be appreciated (like the scholar guy complimented saying A-Fei's skills are peak level and that his cuts are clean, that represents immense power and grasp over skills; mind you, A-Fei is secretly a praise lover, Li Lianhua saw that opportunity and landed a chance. He truly was happy with A-Fei being around.)

His trust on A-Fei is truly on different level. When the Eagle dancer guy jumped off the mountain, he didn't even flinch, as if he knew his tanker of a housemate will hurl through soon. Which actually did happen.

WAIT, what am I talking about again?

Anyway.... Di Feisheng 🤤🤤

HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL. I really love these silly stuff, wiping his mouth looking like the most innocent little angel but he is a devil in disguise XDDD

If "NO FUCKS GIVEN" had a face, it would've been like this ↓

Looks like could kill you, will actually kill you. ↓

Sorry I deviated from what I was saying, I forgot it too. If it makes sense, AMAZING. And if it doesn't, just take a look at our Hotest JIANGHU terror and move on 😭😭😭🙏🏻🩷🩵💜

On the occasion of Di Feisheng's stay at the Lotus Tower, Li Lianhua created two new dishes.

What else can say more “I’m happy that you’re here”?

Alas, the family did not appreciate his extraordinary creativity.

So in the end there was an epic battle for the only store-bought chicken leg.

I love this episode so much