#it was beautiful and heartbreaking in every way

[minniesfiles]

BLOOM WITH YOU | month 0

After years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, smut

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; heavy angst in this chapter, arguing, lots of tears, mention of blood, mention of miscarriages, mention of fertility issues, generally very sad and emotional chapter, wonwoo being a caring hubby :( , penetrative sex, missionary, squirting, creampie, love-making

❧ WORDCOUNT; 8k

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▍24 MAY 2025 — [present]

You always thought your life was the kind people envied. You had the checklist: a career you enjoyed, a loving husband who kissed your forehead every morning, and a circle of family and friends who were there for every celebration and every stumble. It was the life you dreamed of when you were younger, the one where you imagined adulthood to be a smooth, perfect path.

Yet there was a piece of puzzle that seemed to leave the entire picture of your life incomplete, and without it you couldn’t rest.

You’ve been searching for it for three years, but it was buried somewhere deep in the unknown. And the longer you desperately tried to dig through every corner of the earth, the more exhausted you grew — physically and mentally.

Yet still, you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t give up.

It was midnight, and you were sitting by the window for hours with your knees to your chest, watching the rain pour heavily. You didn’t bother to turn on more lights or even check the time because your mind was elsewhere. You were waiting for something — anything — to break the silence that had grown deafening over the years.

And just then, you heard the sound of the front door opening. Your body stiffened, and your head snapped towards the source of the noise. He was finally home.

You watched your husband step into the house and noticed that he was slightly soaked. He must have walked from the car to the house in the rain without an umbrella, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he had even cared to shield himself.

But your anger was quicker to rise. Three hours. He finished work three hours ago. You were sitting here, waiting, as you did so many nights before, wondering where he was and why he didn’t come home. The excuses were always the same — delays, errands, last-minute shoots.

But a human could only sit and endure for so long before they reach their breaking point, and tonight was it.

You stood up abruptly and made your way towards him. Your bare feet made no sound against the floor, but your furious presence was loud. “Where the hell were you?” you barked.

Wonwoo stopped in his tracks, his wide shoulders sagging as he let out a tired sigh. He placed his keys on the table by the door, but he didn’t dare to meet your gaze. His exhaustion was imprinted onto his face, in the slight droop of his eyelids, the heaviness in his movements. He rubbed the back of his neck as water dripped from his fingers onto the floor.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” he muttered with his deep voice.

Your eyes narrowed and your anger flared hotter. “You don’t want to do this right now?” you repeated as your voice rose.

“You think I wanted to sit here for hours, wondering where you were? You finished work three hours ago. What the hell were you doing?”

“I was driving around,” he admitted after a moment, his voice barely audible over the rain hitting against the glass windows. “I needed to clear my head.”

Your laugh was short and bitter, and filled with disbelief. “Clear your head? Must be nice, having the luxury to escape whenever you feel like it while I sit here drowning in everything that’s wrong with our lives!”

Wonwoo’s head snapped up at your words, and for the first time, he looked at you directly. His eyes were tired, but there was frustration in there too.

“Don’t make this about me,” he said with a sharp tone. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel the same things you do?”

“Then why don’t you act like it? Why don’t you talk to me instead of running off and leaving me here to deal with it alone?” you questioned as you stood with a defensive posture.

“Because every time we talk, it turns into this,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “A fight. Blaming each other for something neither of us can control.”

As the unspoken truth was finally exposed, the silence that followed was immediate and suffocating. Your once-bright vision of starting a family turned into a relentless cycle of pain and resentment. The hope that had once bound you together now only reminded you of what you both couldn’t have.

Three long years of trying had left its mark — never-ending doctor’s appointments, treatments, and reassurances that never felt enough. Your patience had been tested at every social gathering where friends shared pregnancy announcements, and with each passing year, the gap between your expectations and reality widened.

You both endured the isolation and the pain of waiting together, hoping for something that stubbornly refused to arrive. And now, in the wake of another failed attempt, your shared grief threatened to consume what little remained of your hope and connection.

You felt your throat tighten as your anger threatened to give way to tears. But you refused to cry, refused to let yourself appear weak. “You’ve given up,” you said quietly. You tried to sound firm but your trembling voice betrayed you. “You’ve stopped trying.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to meet your eyes properly. “I haven’t given up,” he said. “But what do you want me to do? Keep pushing until we destroy what’s left of us? We’re tearing each other apart over something we can’t change.”

You shook your head, and your hands trembled as you tried to hold onto your anger. However, you knew he was right, so his words struck a deep chord within you. Both of you were worn out and, in your own ways, broken. Neither of you could seem to get around the distance left by the dream that once united you together.

In the end, the tears you were holding back finally spilled over.

“You don’t get it,” you said with a whisper. “I feel like I’ve failed. Like I’m the reason this isn’t happening for us. And every time you pull away, it just makes me feel more alone.”

Wonwoo’s face softened further, and he reached out for your hand, but you stepped back. “Don’t,” your voice cracked. “Don’t act like everything’s fine. It’s not fine.”

“I know it’s not,” he said as his hand dropped to his side. “I’m not pretending it is. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix us.”

The rain outside seemed to grow louder, and the intensifying storm reflected the emotions between you both. You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself as your body shook with silent sobs. You felt him watching you, felt the space between you that grew wider as each string of hope was cut off.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” you whimpered. “We had plans. We had dreams. We were supposed to have a family by now, to be happy. But everything feels…broken.”

Wonwoo stood there for a moment, watching you as if he were searching for the right words. Then, slowly, he dropped the bag he was holding and stepped forward. You didn’t hear him move, didn’t feel him until his arms wrapped around you from behind.

His hold on you was warm and strong, and his muscular arms wrapped around your small frame as if he was trying to hold you together when you couldn’t.

At first, you tensed up, taken by surprise, but then you turned around and melted into him, letting your tears soak his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her hair, “I’m so sorry baby.”

You shook your head as your sobs muffled against his chest. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m scared we’ll never get to start a family like we dreamed. I’m scared we’re never going to be okay again. That we’re never going to be enough for each other.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling his own tears rolling down his cheeks. “But you’re enough for me my love” he said, his voice breaking. “You’ve always been enough for me. I just…I don’t know how to make this better.”

As much as Wonwoo wanted to comfort you with reassurance, he could keep his feelings locked away all the time. This was the honest he could get.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him through your tear-streaked face. His red and glistening eyes met yours, and you saw the pain, the love, the desperation in them. Like your own.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you cried silently.

“You won’t,” he promised as his hands cupped your face. “We’re in this together. No matter what. Remember the promise we made on our wedding day?” he asked, and you nodded slowly,

“We’ll be okay”

You went to sleep that night, with your head resting on your husband’s shoulder while his arms were securely wrapped around your waist, thinking back to the day when everything started to fall apart. The memories played over and over like a cruel loop.

How badly you wished it was just a bad dream, a sickening nightmare that you’d shake off upon waking. But it wasn’t. It was real. The pain was too sharp, too vivid to be an illusion. And as much as you wished to escape it, every time you closed your eyes you were forced to face the harshness of it all.

▍1 JUNE 2022 — [3 years ago]

You hummed to yourself as you sliced through a bundle of fresh spring onions. It was a peaceful evening, and you were excited for your husband to come home from his photoshoot. He’d been working so hard lately and you wanted to treat him with his favorite dish — a noce pot of kimchi jjigae.

Cooking has become your comforting hobby lately ever since you found out you were pregnant. While Wonwoo was out for his clients’ photoshoots, you would stay at home to make his favourite meals so he could enjoy them when he returned home.

As you stirred the pot on the stove, your free hand instinctively went to your small, round belly. At twelve weeks pregnant, you had just begun to notice the subtle changes in your body. It was a surprise you didn’t expect, a blessing you both dreamed of.

As you reached for the ladle, a sudden sharp, searing pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your hand flew to your stomach, and you doubled over, gasping for air. The ladle slipped from your hand and clattered onto the floor.

It was just a cramp. That was what you told yourself. The pregnancy books said cramps were normal. You leaned against the counter and tried to breathe through the discomfort. But then it came again, this time sharper, radiating down your lower back. Your knees buckled, and you had to grip the counter to keep yourself upright.

The warmth between your legs came next, and it was unmistakable and terrifying. You staggered back and looked down to see blood staining your leggings. A wave of panic overtook you.

“No, no, no,” you whispered with your trembling voice. Your breathing became ragged, the pain was becoming sharper and incessant. The blood was so red, so graphic against the kitchen tile.

Your phone was on the table, a few feet away. You shuffled toward it with your blurring vision. With your hands shaking uncontrollably, you tapped on Wonwoo’s number and held your breath as the phone rang.

Once. Twice. Six times. No answer.

You knew Wonwoo barely checked his phone while working, but this was urgent. You needed him badly.

Your chest tightened. “Wonwoo, please,” you whimpered, and your voice cracked as the call went to voicemail. You tried again, but the phone rang endlessly. The pain grew worse, and tears blurred your vision almost completely. The world around you felt like it was spinning out of control.

On the third try, he finally answered. “Hey babe, sorry I was busy. What’s up?” Wonwoo said with a casual voice. You tried to speak, but the words were choking inside your throat.

“Babe? Are you okay?” his voice shifted, becoming tense.

“Y/n?”

“I—” your voice was barely a whisper, and the effort it took to speak felt huge.

Another wave of pain crashed over you that pulled a strangled cry from your lips. You couldn’t hold the phone anymore. Your phone slipped from your hand and fell onto the floor. You tried to pick it up, but your vision darkened around the edges, and before you could say anything more, everything went black.

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the overwhelming brightness. The sharp light in your eyes made you wince and turn your head. Your body felt unnaturally heavy, and your limbs stiff, and a dull ache throbbed in your abdomen. When the sterile smell of antiseptic hit your nostrils, you realised that you weren’t at home.

“Honey?” Wonwoo’s voice was hoarse, and it was filled with a mixture of relief and anguish.

He was sitting beside your bed with his hand wrapped tightly around yours. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. His usual calm and confident demeanor was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a fragile, broken man. Something you haven’t seen in a long time since his grandmother passed away a few years back.

You swallowed hard, but your throat was dry. “Wonwoo?” you rasped.

“Hey, I'm here,” he said quickly and leaned closer. “I'm right here baby. You're okay. You're safe.”

You tried to sit up, but the effort made your head swim. “What…what happened?” you asked.

Wonwoo’s face crumpled, and he squeezed your hand tighter as he used his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your damp forehead.

“You called me,” he began. “I-I didn't know what was wrong, but when you stopped talking, I rushed home. You were on the floor, Y/n. There was blood everywhere” his voice cracked as he spoke, and he looked away, swallowing hard.

“I called an ambulance, and they brought you here.”

The air felt heavy after that. Heavy with something unsaid. You could feel it — his silence, the pain etched into every line of his face. Then, your hand instinctively moved to your stomach, feeling dread creeping into your chest.

“The baby,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “Wonwoo…is the baby okay?”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched as he froze. For a moment, he didn’t answer. He couldn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he let out a choked sob, and his body shook as he leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His tears were warm against your skin, almost like you could feel his grief soaking into your skin.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Your heart stopped, and your whole body went cold as the meaning of his words sank in. “No,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice rose in panic and disbelief.

“No, that’s not true. Don’t say that Wonwoo. Don’t you dare say that.”

He pulled back with his face streaked with tears, and tried to cup your cheeks, but you pushed his hands away. “No!” you cried. “The baby’s fine. The baby has to be fine. Tell me the baby’s fine!”

Your hands moved to your stomach, feeling for something — anything — that would prove him wrong. But there was nothing. The flatness of your abdomen, and the emptiness you felt, confirmed the truth you desperately wanted to deny.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo said softly, his voice pleading, “please…”

“No!” your scream echoed through the hospital room. You began to sob uncontrollably, shaking your head as if doing so could erase the reality of what had happened.

“No, no, no! I can’t…I can’t lose the baby!”

Your husband reached for you and pulled you into his arms as you fell apart. You hit his chest weakly with your fists as your sobs muffled against him.

“It’s not fair,” you cried, “why did this happen? Why?”

Wonwoo’s own grief broke free, and he began to cry loudly, his body shuddering as he held onto you. His cries were unfiltered and guttural, the kind of pain that came from losing something that could never be replaced.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered through his tears. “I’m so sorry my love. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save our baby.”

▍31 DECEMBER 2024 — [ 5 months ago]

It felt like deja vu, but worse. You sat on the hospital bed as you blankly stared out of the window. You could hear the monitors beeping and the muffled voices of nurses outside the door. To you, it might as well have been the exact one where your heart had broken all those other times.

You were supposed to be celebrating New Year’s Eve with your friends and family, hoping and praying the new year to come would be filled with joy you deserved with your baby. Yet, here you were, in the same room you were in all these years ago — the same white walls and the same faint scent of disinfectant.

The world outside carried on like nothing happened. The snow continued to drift down from the sky, covering everything in white. Somewhere out there, people were laughing, drinking, counting down the hours until midnight. They were making resolutions, clinking glasses, kissing and hugging their loved ones.

But here in this suffocating space, you felt as if time was frozen. There was no celebration, no fresh start. Just loss.

For the sixth time.

But you didn’t cry. You had no tears left. You didn’t scream or wail or ask why like you did all those other times. The grief settled into your bones so deeply that it didn’t need to be expressed anymore. It became a part of you, as much as your blood and breath.

Across the room, Wonwoo sat in a chair with his face buried in his hands. His body shook as he silently sobbed, and his fingers gripped his hair as though he could somehow pull himself back together. He had always been your rock, the one who always reassured you even when his own voice cracked.

But it all seemed too much to keep himself together. He was completely torn.

“I don’t understand,” he choked out between sobs, “why does this keep happening?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t move. You just kept staring out at the snow with your hands resting limply in your lap.

This was supposed to be the one. The doctors said this pregnancy was strong, that the baby’s heartbeat was steady, that things looked promising. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope — really hope.

And now, that hope was dimmed. Again.

The door opened softly, and Dr. Jung stepped inside. She was your doctor through all six pregnancies. Each time, she was the one to deliver the devastating news, and each time, her expression had grown wearier. Now, she looked almost as broken as you and Wonwoo did.

Wonwoo wiped his face and sat up straighter. His hands were still shaking as he reached for yours, but you didn’t react to his touch.

Dr. Jung hesitated for a moment before speaking, like she was trying to find the right words. But there were no right words.

“Y/n…Wonwoo,” she began gently. “I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”

Wonwoo inhaled a sharp breath and blinked back fresh tears that threatened to fall. But you didn’t blink.

Dr. Jung shifted in her chair as her hands clasped together tightly. “I know you’ve been through this so many times before,” she continued, her voice laced with sorrow. “And I can’t imagine how much pain you’re in right now. But we finally have some answers.”

Wonwoo’s body stiffened, and his grip tightened on your lifeless hand. “What do you mean?” he asked with his hoarse voice.

Dr. Jung exhaled softly. “The tests we ran after your last miscarriage, and the scans we did earlier this time, have given us a clearer picture. Y/n, your womb has an abnormal structure. It’s something we hadn’t been able to see before with certainty, but now we can.”

The words floated in the air like smoke, curling around and suffocating you. Wonwoo frowned and shook his head as if trying to make sense of the given information.

“What kind of abnormality?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Why didn’t anyone see this before?”

Dr. Jung’s expression softened. “It’s not something that always presents clearly in routine scans. But in Y/n’s case, the shape of her uterus makes it difficult for a pregnancy to progress past a certain point. The risk of miscarriage is significantly higher.”

Wonwoo felt his breath get caught in his throat. He the. turned to you and searched your face, but you were still staring out the window. And for the first time since he had known you, It was hard for him to read what you were feeling. And it broke him.

“There are treatment options,” Dr. Jung continued softly.

“In some cases, surgery can help. But…I need to be honest with you both. Even with intervention, the risk of miscarriage will always be there. It may be lower, but it won’t disappear completely.”

Wonwoo let out a shaky breath as his hands tightened into fists. “So you’re saying...it might never happen for us?”

Dr. Jung hesitated. “I’m saying that it will be much more difficult than for most couples. And I want you both to be prepared for that reality.”

You finally blinked. Your lips parted slightly, but you still didn’t speak.

You should have felt something — anger, sorrow, frustration — but there was only a vast emptiness inside you. You always thought you were cursed the second time it happened, that you were just unlucky, that fate was cruel.

But now that there was a medical explanation, you understood that it was your body. Your own body had been betraying you all these years.

Dr. Jung reached out and placed a hand over your cold one. “I know this is a lot to process. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just take the time you need to grieve.”

You slowly turned your head towards the doctor, and your voice finally surfaced after what felt like an eternity. “So, you’re saying I was never meant to be a mother?” you whispered. The words were quiet, but they cut through the room like a knife.

Wonwoo’s face crumpled. “No, honey, don’t say that—”

Dr. Jung shook her head quickly. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Many women with uterine abnormalities go on to have successful pregnancies. It’s just more complicated, and we would need to explore options very carefully.”

You absorbed the words, but they felt far like they were being spoken through a fog.

Wonwoo reached for your hand again and squeezed it tightly. “We’ll find a way,” he pleaded. “Even if we have to try again, even if it’s hard, we’ll find a way.”

Your eyes met his then, and for the first time all night, you let yourself feel the burden of his sorrow. His hope. His desperation.

“We said that last time,” you murmured.

Wonwoo’s face crinkled, and his body shuddered with another silent sob. He didn’t argue, because he knew you were right. You both said it last time. And the time before. And the time before that.

Dr. Jung sighed softly as she stood up. “I’ll leave you both alone for now. If you need anything, just call.”

She left the room quietly and closed the door behind her. The silence that followed was unbearable.

Wonwoo finally stood up and paced towards the window. He placed a hand against the glass and looked outside at the city below. The sky was glowing with fireworks, filled with explosions of red, blue, and gold painting the night. The world was celebrating the new year that just began.

People were cheering and kissing as they welcomed the new year with laughter and joy. And here you were, drowning in loss and misfortune.

You watched the fireworks for a moment, then turned back to your husband. His shoulders were shaking again while his forehead was pressed against the glass. You should have gone to him, should have wrapped your arms around him.

But you couldn’t move.

“I don’t think I can do this again” your voice came out flat and emotionless.

Wonwoo turned to you with his eyes filled with grief. “Y/n—”

“I can’t Wonwoo” you whispered through your cracked voice. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hoping just to have it ripped away. I can’t keep watching you fall apart because of me.”

He was in front of you in an instant, kneeling beside the bed as his hands cupped your face. “Baby this isn’t your fault. It’s not because of you.”

Tears finally spilled down your cheeks. “But it is. My body…it’s broken Wonwoo”

His own tears fell freely as he kissed your hands, your forehead, your cheeks, and lastly your pale chapped lips. “You are not broken, my love” he whispered.

“And we will figure this out. Even if it’s different than what we imagined, we will figure it out together, okay? Please don't give up.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was still something to fight for. But as the fireworks exploded outside, all you could feel was the weight of six losses.

You didn’t know how to carry it anymore.

▍30 MAY 2025 — [present]

The sun was warm against your skin, while the gentle breezes swayed your brown locks all over the place. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that should have made you feel light and at peace. But peace was hard to find for the past few years.

You sat cross-legged on your checkered picnic blanket, your fingers absentmindedly running through your husband’s hair as he lay on his back with his head resting on your lap.

Wonwoo was talking with his deep comforting voice, he was weaving stories from your past. He talked about memories of when you were both younger and happier. He spoke about your first date and how you were nervous as you sat in the tiny café, your hands inches apart as both waited for the other to close the distance. He reminded you of your honeymoon in Singapore, especially when you would both run into the ocean at midnight.

But you weren’t listening.

Your eyes were locked on a family that you noticed walking down the paved path in front of you. A man and a woman were holding hands, and between them were their two children.

The older girl, no more than five, pointed excitedly at something in the distance, and her laughter rang like wind chimes in the warm summer air. The younger boy, perhaps two, held to his mother’s side with his tiny fingers gripping her dress as he looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes.

You felt your chest tighten. It was the kind of family you always dreamed of having for yourself and Wonwoo. But fate had other plans.

Your fingers in your husband's hair came to a halt as your touch grew still.

The familiar suffocating ache settled in your chest, and it made it hard for you to breathe. Your throat felt constricted, and before you could stop it, a single tear rolled down your cheek.

Wonwoo’s voice trailed off. He had been mid-sentence as he told you about some ridiculous thing your neighbour did last week, but when he felt your fingers go still, when he noticed the shift in your breathing, his body tensed.

“Baby?” he called softly, tilting his head slightly to look up at you. But you didn’t respond. Your gaze remained locked on the family with your glassy eyes.

Wonwoo sat up slowly and shifted his weight until he was kneeling in front of you. His hands cupped your face and gently turned you away from the sight before you could spiral again further into pain.

“Hey,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears that escaped. “Look at me.”

You blinked as your focus shifted to him, but the sadness in your eyes remained. Wonwoo swallowed a hard lump, feeling his own chest tightening. He saw that look too many times before. He had felt that pain too.

The past five months were a battle — a slow, painful process of trying to piece yourselves back together after yet another devastating loss.

Six times. You lost six babies. And this time felt different. It was heavier, as if something inside you shattered beyond repair.

Wonwoo took time off work, just for you. And he planned this picnic in hopes — praying — that it would be a step toward healing. But now, as he looked at the sorrow in your eyes, he knew that no amount of warm sunlight or gentle breezes could erase the pain you carried.

He let out a slow, shaky breath and pressed his forehead against yours. “Please baby,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You closed your eyes as more tears slipped free. “I thought I was doing better,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I thought I was learning how to live with it.”

Wonwoo tightened his hold on your face a little. “You don’t have to pretend with me, love.”

You exhaled shakily. “I see them, and I wonder if that will ever be us.”

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I wonder the same thing,” he admitted. “Every single day.”

You let out a soft, broken sound — half sob, half sigh. “I hate feeling like this,” you confessed. “I hate how every happy family feels like a reminder of what we’ve lost.”

Wonwoo’s hands trailed down your waist, squeezing gently. “I know baby, I know.”

You then met his sad gaze, and looked for something — reassurance, hope, anything that could ease the ache inside you. “Do you ever think we should stop trying?”

The question was sharp and straightforward that made Wonwoo mentally wince.

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened. He asked himself that question before in the quiet hours of the night when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to your soft, uneven breathing beside him. He thought about what it would mean to let go of the dream you had held for so long.

But letting go felt impossible.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I do know that I don’t want to lose us.”

Your breath hitched. “I don’t either.”

Wonwoo reached for your hands and laced your fingers together. “Then we take it one day at a time. We stop thinking about what’s ahead and just focus on now. On us.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him. “And if we never get there?”

His throat tightened. He didn’t have an answer for that.

But instead of speaking, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Then we figure out what ‘there’ looks like for us,” he whispered against your skin.

A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, but this time, you didn’t try to hold them back. You let yourself lean into him, let yourself be held.

▍1 AUGUST 2025

The motion of the crochet hook moving through the soft pink yarn was almost hypnotic. Over and under, loop and pull. You worked in silence as your fingers moved with precision. It was a hobby that you picked up when you were ten, and you often praised yourself at how good you were at it.

You weren’t making anything for anyone in particular. There was no baby waiting for this tiny cardigan. No expectant nursery filled with soft toys and pastel colors. No little hands that would reach for you, no sleepy eyes that would blink up at you in the dead of night.

But still, you crocheted.

The soft yarn draped and pooled over your lap. The cardigan was small and delicate, made for a child who would never wear it. And yet, you kept going, because what else was there to do?

You stopped counting the days since the last you lost your baby, but the grief never truly left you. It was in everything you did, every thought you had.

When you cooked dinner, you thought about how you would have needed to make something different for a toddler. When you went to bed, you thought about how you would have been waking up to cries in the middle of the night.

Even now, sitting in your quiet home, crocheting, you thought about the tiny fingers that would have reached for the soft wool.

A deep sigh left your lips and your hands paused as you traced the fabric with your fingertips. The baby cardigan was almost finished. Just a few more rows, a few buttons to attach, and it would be complete.

But complete for who?

The unanswerable question kept lingering in your mind.

Before you could let your thoughts settle in too deeply, you heard the sound of footsteps out in the hallway. The door then creaked open, and you looked up, startled.

It was Wonwoo, standing in the doorway with a wide grin on his face. He was wearing a birthday hat that was slightly crooked on his head, and in his hands, he carried a cake. It was small, homemade, and slightly uneven, with a single candle lit on top.

His voice then began to fill the quiet dimmed room as he began to sing. Wonwoo made his way towards you as he sang, and his eyes were twinkling with love.

“Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday my dear Y/n.”

“Happy birthday to you.”

You blinked in confusion, and then realisation. Your birthday. You forgot — of course you did.

When he reached the end of the song, he knelt in front of you and held the cake out with both hands.

“Make a wish, baby,” he murmured softly.

A lump formed in your throat as you looked at the cake. It wasn’t from a bakery — that you knew was obvious by looking at it. The frosting was unequal, some areas were too thick, and others were too thin. There was a smudge of chocolate near the base where he likely tried to fix a mistake.

He made it himself, and it made you tear up even more.

Wonwoo must have noticed, because he shifted a little in slight embarrassment. “I, uh…I did my best,” he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “I know it’s not perfect, but—”

“It’s perfect,” you cut him off with a broken whisper, and Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly.

You inhaled shakily as you stared at the candle’s flame. You hadn’t made a birthday wish in years. Not since the first miscarriage. Every year, you wished for the same thing. A baby. A chance to be a mother. A chance to keep what you lost so many times.

But the universe didn’t listen.

Your hands trembled a little as you closed your eyes. And then, for the first time in years, you made a different wish.

You wished for peace. For healing. For the strength to move forward, even when it felt impossible.

Opening your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candle. The flame flickered once, then disappeared.

Wonwoo carefully placed the cake on the coffee table before turning back to you. He noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks and frowned. Without hesitation, he reached warm hands for you and he cupped your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

His touch was so tender it made you melt into it. He knew exactly what was making you sad. He always knew. His eyes drifted downward for a moment, landing on the small pink cardigan in your lap.

His chest tightened.

You saw the way his expression changed — the way his own pain surfaced.

“Woo…” you started weakly. But he didn’t let you finish.

Instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was slow, full of love, and full of the things neither of you could always say out loud.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you felt his breath warm against your slightly swollen lips.

“I hate seeing you sad on your birthday,” he murmured. “I just…I wanted today to be a good day for you.”

You let out a shaky breath. “It is a good day” you replied.

He pulled back a little and stared at your face. “You don’t have to say that.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “But I mean it. You made it a good day.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek which lingered just beneath your eye. “I just want you to be okay.”

You swallowed hard as you glanced down at the cardigan once more. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay,” you admitted. “Not completely.”

Wonwoo’s hold on you tightened. “Then I’ll stay with you until you are. For however long it takes.”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks again, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. They were from love. From gratitude. From knowing that, even in the darkest moments, you weren’t alone.

Wonwoo exhaled softly, looking at the half-finished cardigan. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated, but then nodded. “I just…I don’t know why I keep making them,” you said, running your fingers over the fabric. “It’s not like anyone will wear them.”

Wonwoo was quiet for a moment before reaching down and picking up the cardigan. He turned it over in his hands and studied it carefully.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “It’s unfinished.”

“So?” he lifted it slightly and inspected the delicate stitches. “It still matters.”

“Why?” you looked at him with your heart aching.

Wonwoo met your gaze, “because it’s proof that you love them,” he said simply. “All of them. And that matters.”

You stopped breathing for a second. You never thought about it like that. For so long, you crocheted these tiny garments in silence, never daring to say what they truly meant to you. But Wonwoo always understood.

He placed the cardigan gently back in your lap and kissed your forehead. “We don’t have to figure everything out today,” he whispered. “But whatever happens next…we do it together.”

You nodded slowly as your fingers tightened around the soft fabric.

Together. For the first time in months, the word didn’t feel so heavy.

Wonwoo smiled as he brushed another tear from your cheek. “Now, come on. Let’s eat some of this cake before it completely falls apart.”

You let out a genuine laugh and shook your head. “I think it already has.”

Wonwoo gasped dramatically. “Wow. Rude.”

You smiled, truly smiled, and for the first time in a long time, the weight in your chest felt just a little lighter.

Maybe you were okay just yet. But with your husband by your side, maybe you would be.

▍3 SEPTEMBER 2025

Your body trembled under the weight of his as he slowly sank himself into you. A low grunt could be heard as he pushed past the tightness he felt around your walls, and another whiny moan when he felt his tip kiss your cervix.

“Fuck” he swore under his breath as he adjusted his position while your legs and arms were wrapped around his broad body.

The weather was getting a little cooler these days, and Wonwoo could feel you slightly shivering beneath him. Grabbing the blanket that was discarded on the side of the bed earlier, he threw it over your naked bodies.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at you. You slowly opened your eyes and gave him a weak nod.

Wonwoo cupped your face and his thumbs traced over your cheekbones, as if he was reassuring himself that you were real, that you were here, together, despite everything.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say it back but couldn't find the words. Instead, you answered him with a kiss.

You bucked your hips upwards to motion him to move, and Wonwoo let out a small hiss as his one hand slowly trailed down to your hip while using the other to support himself upright.

Wonwoo pulled out just enough for the head of his cock to remain buried in, and then in one swift motion, he slammed himself right back in. Your mouth gaped, letting out a loud gasp.

He spread your legs wider and repositioned himself to give him better access. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, then leaning in to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

He began to thrust in a sickeningly slow pace, deep enough for you to feel his cock brush against your cervix. Wonwoo wanted you to know, to feel, how much he loved you. With every open mouthed kiss he peppered over your lips, every deep rhythmic thrust, he wanted you to understand that nothing in this world would ever separate you from him. That he’d love you till the world ended.

“I love you so much” he whispered against your lips. Silent tears rolled down in the corner of your eyes, both in pleasure and love. But you couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt either. It followed you like a shadow in everything that you did.

“I l-love you t-too” your voice broke, followed by a moan you couldn’t contain.

“It’s okay sweetheart, don’t hold yourself back” he reassured as he slowly picked up his speed. You intertwined your fingers tighter with his as he leaned in to bury his face in your neck once again.

“M-More” you cried out in pleasure as you squirmed beneath him.

Wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his thrusts came to a halt as he pulled out completely. He pushed himself up on his knees, the blanket covering your bodies slipping off his back, and hooked his arms under your legs to pull you down closer.

And before you could comprehend anything, you felt him ram inside your tight hole in one go. You felt the air knock out of your lungs as you held onto his arm for dear life. Wonwoo only gave you a second or two to adjust before he began to pound into you mercilessly, the harsh sound of skin slapping and bed creaking filling your confined bedroom.

His fingers dug into your hips as he tried to maintain his pattern, but your cries and moans fed into his desire to go faster than he already was. The way your breasts bounded up and down, he couldn’t resist the urge to fondle with them. His slender fingers gently pinched at your nipple, causing you to let out a louder moan.

“D-Don’t stop b-baby” you whined.

Wonwoo leaned down and pecked your lips, “I wasn’t planning to sweetheart” he grunted.

Wonwoo knew you were starting to get overstimulated when your moans turned into sobs, and the way you pushed at his arms to beg him for a release.

You felt a tight coil form inside of you, ready to snap at any moment. “P-Please, I c-can’t. Fuck! Baby I-I can’t” you cried as you dug your nails into his biceps.

Wonwoo could feel the way your walls were clenching tighter which made it harder for him to control himself. “Let go baby” he said, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your trembling lips.

“Just let go”

And just like that, the coil finally snapped. Wonwoo pulled out just in time as you squirted all over this cock. Your screams filled the room, your hips shuddering as you continued to soak the bed sheets. Your husband watched with his hooded eyes as you unfolded, biting his lip.

It wasn’t often that you’d squirt during sex, but when you did, it was the hottest thing Wonwoo ever saw. And most of the time, he’d lose his sanity completely.

Wonwoo leaned down and gave you a sloppy kiss while his fingers trailed down to your soaked cunt. “Shh, you’re okay baby” he mumbled against your lips as he slowly rubbed your swollen clit in a circular motion.

When you finally calmed down, you let out a small sob, feeling overwhelmed. You never felt so good in a long time.

“You okay?” your husband asked, staring deeply into your eyes with a loving gaze. You gave him a nod and reached your hand out to caress his sweaty face.

With a soft smile and a peck on your lips, Wonwoo spread your legs wide once again. With one hand gripped on his thick shaft and the other resting on your cheek, he gently eased himself back inside you.

Your back arched and your arms flew to wrap around his muscular torso. His thrusts were more relaxed and slow than before, like he wanted you to understand the depth of his love for you.

“I love you” he whispered into your ear.

“And we’ll be okay.”

The world outside didn’t exist at that moment. There was no grief, no shattered dreams, no echoes of what you lost. There was only this — skin against skin, lips tracing, hands rediscovering the familiar dips and curves of each other’s bodies.

Wonwoo trailed kisses down the column of your throat, and paused at the rapid pulse beneath your skin. He lingered there and savoured the proof of life, the reminder that you were still here, still fighting, still capable of loving even after everything.

You let out a shaky breath as your hands roamed over his back, feeling the tension that lived in his muscles for far too long. You pressed soft kisses along his shoulder as a silent reassurance that you weren’t totally broken beyond repair.

This wasn’t just about making love. It was about finding your way back to each other. It was about healing in the only way you knew how.

“We’re okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

Wonwoo swallowed hard as he rested his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he whispered back, his fingers tightening around your waist.

“We are.”

He continued thrusting into you until he felt himself reaching his edge. His moans grew louder the closer he got to his orgasm, his eyes clenching shut as he kept his face buried in your neck.

And then, he finally felt himself snap. His movements stilled as he bursted inside you like fireworks, painting your walls white with his hot sticky cum and filling you up to the brim.

“Fuck!” he dragged on the word as he collapsed over you.

You shut your eyes and and savoured the way his cum still spurted like it was never going to end. And when it did, you felt him slowly pull out. The arousal dripping from your swollen cunt was immediate. But unlike how he always did, Wonwoo didn’t gather his cum with his fingers to push it back in. Instead, he just let it flow.

The hopes of starting a family was dimming, but it didn’t diminish completely. But now, you and Wonwoo knew that you were at a point where you knew you didn’t want to force yourselves into anything. If the universe wanted to answer your prayer, it would.

As much as it hurt, you came to accept that this was what life was. Not every dream is fulfilled, but when you have someone who loves you right next to you, heartbreak and disappointment is a little easier to overcome.

And with Wonwoo by your side, sticking to his promise he made during your wedding, life wasn’t all that miserable. In the end, he was your happiness. He was your answer to your questions. He was your everything, and right now, that mattered to you the most.

a/n; I don’t know what to feel about the smut, it’s lowkey shit but hey I gave it a shot!

[mylovesstuffs]

Ot13 and what scares them about love

Request: Hey can u do a headcanon ot13: what scares them about being in love.. or love in general? (Like not being enough, losing control, potential heartbreak… smth like that) thanks a lot:)))

A/N: I added the little bullet notes under each member’s part just in case any of you have similar fears—so that you can be reassured that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Personally, I struggle with the fear of being hard to love. It’s something deeply ingrained in me, though I won’t elaborate further. I just wanted you all to feel a little better. At the end of the day, these notes aren’t really for the members (as if they'll see this lol)—they’re for you. This headcanon (sorta) felt surprisingly personal, and writing it made me reflect on so many things about life and love in general. To the anon who requested this, thank you. Your idea was truly unique, and it gave me a space to pause, think, and see things from a different perspective of svt and others.

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol – The Fear of Failing as a Partner

How I see him is that, he carries a deep sense of responsibility, and that extends to love too. His biggest fear is not being able to protect or take care of his partner the way he wants to. He worries about not being emotionally available or strong enough when they need him most. The idea of letting someone down, especially someone he loves, weighs heavily on him.

Seungcheol, you’re doing your absolute best, and that’s more than enough. Your love is a safe space, and no one could ever doubt the strength you bring to those around you.

Jeonghan – The Fear of Losing Himself

Love is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. Jeonghan fears that being in love might make him lose parts of himself—his independence, his ability to make rational choices, or even his sense of control. He’s afraid of how much power someone else could have over his emotions, especially since he’s always the one in control of his own heart.

Love doesn’t mean losing yourself. The right person will embrace all of you, allowing you to be both independent and deeply connected. You don’t have to choose between the two.

Joshua – The Fear of Unreciprocated Effort

I feel like he’s the type to love deeply, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally. But what scares him is the possibility of loving someone more than they love him. He fears investing everything into a relationship, only to find out that his feelings are not returned in the same way. He doesn’t want to be left wondering if he was ever truly enough.

Shua, you are more than enough. Any love you give will be returned in full measure. You’re so kind and caring, and someone who sees you for who you are will love you deeply in return.

Jun – The Fear of Being Misunderstood

Jun is a deep thinker, and his emotions often run slowly beneath the surface. He worries that no matter how much he loves someone, they might never truly understand him. He’s scared of feeling alone in a relationship, of opening up completely and still not being seen for who he truly is.

The right person will understand you in ways you never imagined. Your depth is so precious, and there are people who will cherish every part of who you are.

Hoshi – The Fear of Love Fading

Love, to him, should always be full of passion and excitement. But he fears that over time, feelings might dull, routines might set in, and the relationship could become something ordinary. He wants love to always feel exhilarating, and the thought of it losing its spark terrifies him.

The most beautiful love grows even stronger with time, and the quiet moments are just as powerful as the loud ones.

Wonwoo – The Fear of Not Being Enough

Wonwoo is reserved, and deeply introspective. He worries that he won’t be able to express love in the way his partner needs. He’s afraid that his way of loving through actions rather than words, might not be enough. The idea of someone wanting more than he can give haunts him.

Wonwoo, your love is already enough. The way you care, through your actions and your presence, speaks volumes. Anyone who truly understands you will appreciate the depth of your heart.

Woozi – The Fear of Losing His Dreams for Love

As we all know, he’s very dedicated to his craft and his passion for music runs deep. While he’s capable of deep love, he fears that being in love might take away the time and energy he’s poured into his dreams. He doesn’t want to choose between love and ambition, but he’s afraid that, in the end, one might have to come before the other.

The right person will support and inspire you to keep chasing your passions while loving you in the most meaningful way.

Dokyeom – The Fear of Hurting or Disappointing Someone

Seokmin has such a big heart, and his worst fear is accidentally hurting someone he loves. He always wants to be a source of happiness, but relationships aren’t always perfect, and the thought of being the reason for someone’s pain is unbearable to him.

Kyeom, your heart is pure, and your love only brings joy to those around you. Anyone who is with you will feel lucky to have such a loving and kind soul in their life.

Mingyu – The Fear of Being Too Much

He loves intensely, and sometimes, that can feel overwhelming. Mingyu worries that his enthusiasm, his affection, and his deep emotions might be too much for someone to handle. He’s scared of loving someone with all his heart, only to be told that it’s suffocating.

Gyu :(( your love is perfect just the way it is. No one will ever think you’re too much. You are a warm, bright presence, and the right person will embrace all of that with open arms.

Minghao – The Fear of Losing Freedom

Love is beautiful (2), but Minghao values his independence. He worries about feeling trapped or restricted in a relationship, about losing the ability to chase his own passions freely. He wants to love without feeling like he has to compromise parts of himself.

The right person will love and respect your freedom while still sharing in your journey together.

Seungkwan – The Fear of Heartbreak

He loves hard, and he knows that means he has the most to lose. The thought of giving his whole heart to someone only to have it broken is terrifying. He’s scared of the kind of pain that lingers, the kind that changes a person forever.

Kwannie, your heart is strong enough to handle anything. Love will come with its ups and downs, but your ability to heal and grow will make you even stronger, and you will find a love that never breaks you.

Vernon – The Fear of Not Being Able to Express Himself

Vernon thinks deeply but doesn’t always voice everything he feels. He fears that his inability to always put his emotions into words might make his partner feel unappreciated or uncertain about his love. He doesn’t want to lose someone just because he couldn’t say the right things at the right time.

Anyone who truly cares for you will understand the depth of your feelings, even in silence. You don’t need to explain everything—you show it.

Dino – The Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously

As the youngest in svt, he’s used to being seen as playful and energetic and his partner will also know this persona just like we do. But in love, he wants to be seen as a dependable partner. He fears that no matter how much he matures, there will always be a part of him that people don’t take seriously. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘kid’ in love—he wants to be seen as someone who can love deeply and be a strong, steady presence in his partner’s life.

Dino, your maturity is not measured by age but by the love you give. Anyone who loves you will see the depth of your heart and appreciate the amazing, steady partner you are.

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

19 Costumes

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Hollywood AU / Modern AU / Zhongli is married in here, but not to reader / Slight age gap and mentor-student relationship / Infidelity but not really / a bucketload of angst / mature themes so read at your own discretion

The moment your eyes caught his from across the room, you knew this would be the most difficult role you would ever play.

After all these years, absolutely nothing had changed. His fleeting glance, the gentle smile on his lips, the sound of his voice, his gentlemanly demeanor, the way he carried himself, everything about him effortlessly triggered the rapid beating of your heart. He still affected you the way he did when you first met him. Whether or not that was a good thing, you would find out.

This was the first lead role you had been casted in. It turned out, he was the one who had brought up your name in front of the director. He had that sort of influence in this industry, being the seasoned and respected actor he was. Even Director Hu had to take his professional advice and suggestions to heart. You were initially taken aback when your assistant informed you of the news, thinking your ears were playing tricks on you.

Zhongli had always been your idol, all the way back when you were still attending acting school. You got to meet him on set several times, each time was like a brush of the shoulders, fleeting but memoriable. You were always playing side characters, so once your scenes were done, you'd quietly disappear. Still, he remembered you, gave you guidance like a generous mentor, sharing pointers and techniques to help you improve your performance whenever he caught you hiding behind the set memorizing your lines. He was like a beacon to you, someone you couldn't help but admire, someone you longed to catch up to. If only he could wait a bit for you, perhaps you'd have mustered up the courage to tell him. He never gave you that chance.

When Zhongli got married, you were genuinely happy for him. His wife was beautiful, brilliant, and well-recieved among his fans. She was his perfect match and they had known each other for so long. They were close friends before they became romantically involved. You buried your feelings and began rejecting every script that had his name attached to the production. There were plenty of roles you could take. The film industry was big enough for the both of you, without forcing your paths to cross.

While the personal lives of celebrities were often more complex and messy than even what ends up on the trending page, Zhongli did not have that sort of reputation. His acting portfolio was impressive, a testament of his devotion to each and every role. Everytime he pulled on a costume, he gave himself to the character. His acting was meticulous, layered, made the viewer forget he was playing a character.

You often hear about actors falling in love while in character. The on-screen chemistry was sometimes so convincing, the audience would insist it was real. When you gaze into Zhongli’s eyes and utter words so ironically aligned with what you had been holding in for so long, you imagine that's what viewers would see through their screens. Even the tears streaming down your cheeks were giving their best performance. Not a strand of hair was out of place. Your expensive waterproof cosmetics ensured you cried prettily as he crushed your heart on screen.

The warm breath from Zhongli's lips formed wispy clouds in the frigid air. He was apologizing, saying he couldn't reciprocate your love. He turns around, leaving you to process your emotions on your own. Your lips quiver as you relive your silly little heartbreak in front of rolling cameras and ambient lighting. The fake snow drifted down from above, decorating your sorrow with a dash of pretense. Director Hu scouts cut, but the tears refuse to stop.

At least your character got to tell him, even if she got rejected. You all read the script. The male lead eventually reciprocates her love and the two become a couple. If only reality could be that sweet.

The director gave the call to wrap up filming for the day. A collective breath of relief expelled from everyone present. Nobody enjoyed filming in the freezing cold. The film staff had already begun putting away their gear and taking down the equipment.

You pat your tears dry and thank your assistant for the tissue. Your eyes were still puffy from crying. This would be the closest you'd ever get to being more than professional acquaintences. Perhaps he still considered you a friend, but after your deliberate avoidance, the two of you had drifted apart.

"Your control of your emotions have gotten a lot better. I can see a lot of improvement since the last time I've collaborated with you, especially with the last scene." Zhongli approaches you just as you're about to head back.

You gestured for your assistant to wait for you in your van.

"You're as good as always. I learned a lot from you, in case you've forgotten." You reminded him while trying to keep your thoughts strictly professional.

"I suppose I can consider you half a student then." He chuckled. "You've come a long way, dear. It's truly a delight to witness the result of your growth and the experience you've accumulated over the past few years."

You gave him a polite smile. For a method actor, you constantly draw emotions from your own experiences. If he knew your spectacular acting just now was thanks to the heartache he had gifted you years ago, what would he think?

On your ride back to the hotel, you couldn't help but scroll through your feed. It was mostly industry acquaintences and a few close friends who managed to stick around despite your unpredictable lifestyle and constant unavailability. That's why most actors date casually and usually with familiar faces. It's just easier to forgive if you share the same woes. Zhongli's marriage was an outlier since he had married someone unaquainted with the film industry and never really had any gossip surrounding his love life. If anything, that only further solidified his reputation as actor who relied solely on his work to remain relevant. You too hoped to become that kind of actress.

Your thumb stopped at a photo of a sunset posted by Zhongli. You had followed his account all the way back when you were in college. The backdrop of the sunset was the city you were currently filming in. The photo was dated two days ago. You read the caption in your mind with his voice, a faint smile on your lips. He had always been a bit of a rambler, evident by the paragraph-long musings he narrates his snapshots with. You scrolled downward, expecting to see his wife in the comments like the last time you had clicked open one of his posts. Perhaps she had not seen it yet.

With a self-deprecating smile on your lips, you closed the app and dropped your phone into your purse. Out of sight, out of mind. You should definitely not be thinking about him as often as you were. He was a taken man, and not the kind that would breach the sacred contract of marriage. There could never be anything between the two of you. All this melancholy, it was just residual emotions from tearing open old scars. In order to play this character well, you had to indulge these dormant feelings, let them sprout and take root again. They were just as much part of the costume as the clothes you wore on set. After the cameras stop rolling, you should take them off and put them away.

These characters you played, they belonged to a world separated from reality by a screen. You weren't you and he wasn't him. In the script, you were the one his heart belonged to. He had to remove his wedding band before every scene, but once filming was over, you'd see him slip it back on.

"Has she ever visited you on set before?" You asked him during a break while sipping on the tea he had handed you. You needed some caffeine in your system after staying up all night stressing over the upcoming scene.

He smiled back, a fond memory surfacing in his mind. "Many times. In the early days of our dating, staying away from each other for long periods of time was quite the challenge."

"Your wife must trust you very much." You thought aloud.

He sighed. "She has had her doubts about me before. It's expected of someone in our occupation."

"You're not the kind of person that would cheat." You blurted out before you could process what was on your tongue.

He let out a hearty laughter. "I'm glad you think so highly of my moral character. Though I feel inclined to warn you, at the end of the day, we are all only human. Assuming the best of someone based on limited observations would only result in disappointment."

"Are you saying I don't know you well enough? Am I wrong and you actually do sleep around behind your wife's back?"

"That is not what I said." He chuckled at your deliberate misinterpretation. "I would appreciate it if you do not slander me."

"You trust her enough to leave her by herself for months in a year, but what if she gets lonely or something happens and she needs you? You can't be by her side at the drop of a hat."

"That is indeed the reality of our marriage." He seemed a bit dampened by the reminder. "What about you? Do you find the time to pursue romantic endeavors in between filming?"

"I don't have the capacity to entertain an audience at the same time as a lover."

He gave an understanding smile. "That is a wise choice. Perhaps I should've…" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Are you nervous about the coming scene?"

His eyes were on your hand, which had been fidgeting for almost the entirety of the time he had observed you.

You sucked in a deep breath. "You don't feel strange about kissing me?"

"Should I be unsettled?" He questioned you back. "It's not me, but the character I play, that will be kissing the character you play. Unless it's the technicalities you are concerned with…"

"It's my first time filming a scene like this." You confessed.

Your previous roles were all side characters without a hint of romance in their scripts. This was your first lead role, complete with a love interest and plenty of intimate scenes. The upcoming one was simply the first and you had already lost sleep over it.

"I see. That explains the pressure you're under." He nodded. "Have you kissed before?"

A flush rose in your cheeks. "Back in film school, if that counts."

"It certainly does." He reassured you. "What do you remember of it?"

You shook your head. "It didn't leave much of an impression, to be honest."

"So you may be a bit out of practice." He noted. "Our break is almost over, so there is no time to get acquainted beforehand, but I would not worry too much. Director Hu would have us reshoot ten times if she is not satisfied with the first nine takes. Sometimes I suspect she does it for fun, as it's not the first time I've worked with her…"

You giggled as the two of you returned to the set side by side. His words seemed to calm your nerves. It was like you had returned to the past, to those simpler times when you were fresh out of acting school and he was just your senior, holding your hand and showing you the way. As much as it hurt to admit it, you missed the way things used to be, before he got married, when it felt less guilty to admire him with a pair of slightly rose-tinted glasses.

Once again, the cameras rolled and the clapboard sounded, marking the beginning of the scene. You glanced at Zhongli's hand. His wedding band had once again disappeared.

"I told you not to wait for me." He sighed, cupping your face in his gloved hands.

"If I don't, how would you know I'm willing to?" You recited your line.

You hated dialogue like this, especially since it was Zhongli you were saying it to. The words constricted your throat as they struggled to make their way out.

"I'm not the right person for you." He whispered as the camera panned closer, capturing every minute expression on his face.

"That's not up to you." You retort. "It's not even up to me."

"I don't want to waste your time." He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"You already wasted enough of my time, but I'm not in a rush…" You sucked in a quick breath as Zhongli leaned in.

He studied your face intently underneath the street lamp. His own eyes shimmered like molten amber, captivating you effortlessly. The set faded away, followed by the whirring and humming of all the filming equipment. All you could see was Zhongli as he inched closer. With each nerve-wracking second that passed, the distance between your lips diminished.

His lips descended on yours, unhurried and gentle. Your eyelids fell as Zhongli encircled you in his arms, carefully cradling the back of your head with a hand. He even kissed like a gentleman, with tentative careesses and soft sweeps against your lips. Was he just a good kisser or were you too invested to begin with? You sighed as a dull ache spread through your chest.

As Zhongli suspected she would, Hutao had the two of you do an exhausting number of retakes. You thought the first take was fine, but she insisted that something was missing. By the time she was happy, you were breathless, way too stimulated, and slightly intoxicated. His eyes fell on your swollen lips and the telling flush on your cheeks.

"That must've been quite an overwhelming first for you. I appologize on behalf of our director." He said as the two of you walked off the set. "She tends to forget us actors are only pretending to be hopelessly in love with each other."

His words pierced into you unexpectedly, causing your steps to falter. Pretending? Perhaps he was. You might've been in costume and reciting lines from a script for the rest of the scene, but the moment his lips touched yours, you forgot where you were and who you were supposed to be portraying. His character was kissing yours, but you? You were kissing Zhongli through all those retakes.

"Are you alright?" The concern on his voice was palpable.

"I'm fine. I was just a bit unprepared." You said as you grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and unscrewed the lid.

"We will not be filming the next kiss until next week, so there is plenty of time to practice if you wish to do so." He offered.

"P-Practice?" You nearly choked on your water.

"Why yes, if you find it difficult to relax in front of the camera when we are recording such a scene, it's my responsibility to ensure you are comfortable enough. Some actors struggle with the act itself while others find the presence of cameras and other people intrusive. There is quite a difference between kissing for the camera and kissing someone candidly, just like combat on screen is tediously choreographed while true fighting is often chaotic and unpredictable."

"Was that why she asked for so many takes? Because it didn't capture well on camera?"

He chuckled. "Perhaps. It's her call. As actors, we can only give our best performance. Even with all our experience and techniques put to practice, if the result doesn't align with the director's vision, we must reshoot until it does."

"Well, it's obviously my fault this time since I went in blind. The next time I hope to cut down the retake count by at least half. Two hours for a five minute scene is too much work for everyone involved, not just you and me." You declared.

The rest of the filming that day went by without much hiccups. You were starving by the time it wrapped up. Zhongli's assistants had gone off to buy takeout for the crew, leaving him alone at the back of the set. You were about to approach him to get his insight on something when you noticed the expression on his face as he stared quietly at his cellphone.

"Zhongli?" You called his name, making your presence known since he was so absorbed in whatever it was he was looking at.

He cleared his throat and put away the device, giving you his undivided attention. "Did you need my input on something pertaining to the scenes we will be filming tomorrow?"

You nodded, holding out your script. "This line here and that one too. I should be angry that you're withholding something, but I can't let you onto the fact that I know what you're not telling me. I have to convey that to the audience though, so it can't be too internalized or I would just look like a rock sitting there, but I can't be obvious enough to come off as sulking to you. How would I pull this off without looking too deliberate?"

Zhongli took your script from your hand while you took a seat beside him, waiting for him to finish reading.

"Think about someone close to you, if not a lover, than perhaps your closest friend. If they had lied to you and intend to keep the truth wrapped up until it tears or gets burned from the inside out, would you play along with their ruse or would you confront them immediately and risk losing everything you have built up together?"

You took a deep breath, absorbing his words.

"I think I'd play along, but the disappointment and hurt would be impossible to completely mask."

"Now what about the character you're portraying. Do you think they would do the same?" He asked.

"I think so. No, they would. She loves your character too much and waited all those years for him even though he never asked her to."

"Every person has specific aspects of their physical state that they have better control over. That means there will also be things they have less control over. You for example, I notice that your hands tend to be more restless when you're under pressure. You know this character better than I do. Where do you think her mask is thickest and where is it the thinnest?"

Your eyes brightened as you caught the thread of inspiration he tossed your way. "I know how to handle it now. You're the best."

Zhongli tensed in surprise when you threw your arms around him. You used to thank him with an enthusiastic hug back then too whenever he gave you valuable tips, but it had been so many years since he had seen you in person. You were a bit more mature, a polished gem now as opposed to the rough ore you were years ago. This might be your first lead role, but he had always seen the potential in you. That was why he brought you up with Hutao and suggested her invite you for the audition. As he expected, you bagged the role without much competition.

"Is there something wrong?" You asked him when he didn't hug you back. With a bit of self-consciousness, you pulled away..

He chuckled. "I was just thinking about the first time we met. You've come a long way and I can see that you've not slacked in honing your craft over the past years. Every journey will have its final day. Don't rush the process. You may yet see a day where you wonder if you had chosen the right path, but when you look back at the footsteps you've left behind and remember all the moments that brought you to where you are today, you will see that it was all inevitable. No two paths are alike, even if we walk in the same direction. I can only guide you for a short while."

"What's with the sudden introspection?" You tilted your head in curiosity. "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye? Filming's not even done yet."

"This may be my last one."

You shot up from your seat, eyes wide with disbelief. "For now, or for good?"

"I've been in this industry for over two decades. It's been a long and rewarding career. I have no regrets, especially in meeting young talents such as yourself."

"Was that why you recommended me for the role? As a parting gift?"

"I recommended you because I found you suitable for the role."

"Then what about that sunset picture?" You demanded. "Were you trying to give us hints that you were hanging up your costume?"

You already missed the opportunity to be anything more than friends. It was just a silly crush anyways, nothing more. You survived. After a grueling early career, you finally caught up to him. All those cups of coffee, sleepless nights full of memorizing lines, and fighting for mediocre roles in as many productions as you could fit in your schedule, it was all paying off. It had been a long uphill journey, but you finally made it. You could finally stand beside him on the red carpet and he tells you he's going to quit?

"You can't." You said as you sat down again. "There are plenty of actors that work until they can't move or memorize their lines. You're not even that old. What will you do if you give this up?"

"I will simply focus my efforts on the talents signed under my agency like Xiao and Ganyu." Zhongli chuckled at your reasoning. "I can also fully step into my responsibilities as a spokesperson for the Liyue cultural exchange."

"You've always been into traditional things."

He already did endorsements for Chenyu Vale Tea and the Xigu Museum. Still, it was hard to imagine him abandoning acting since you had always looked up to him for it.

"Are you sure you won't regret it?" You had to ask him again, as if you simply repeating the question would give him a reason to reconsider.

"For every decision you make, there will be a cost in opportunity. Although acting has been a worthwhile journey, it does not mean I have not amassed regrets in the pursuit of it."

"So this wasn't an impulsive decision." You concluded from what Zhongli had just said. With some deliberation, you managed to reign in your emotions. A flush painted your cheeks. Your reaction to the news was perhaps a bit overreaching. If he wanted to retire early, who were you to say no? "I'm not going to pry since this is your life. I just want you to know that I… I've always admired your work."

Filming resumed as scheduled for the next few days. You couldn't help but sense that something was off with Zhongli. He delivered his scenes as usual, but once he was done, you'd catch him staring off in the distance, mind somewhere else.

You approached him after your last scene for the day was over. As expected, he didn't even notice you until you were right in front of him. Whatever was holding his mind captive immediately dispersed as he smiled at you.

"I was wondering if you could practice the next scene with me. If you don't have anything else occupying your time, of course. I wouldn't want to infringe… You seem rather distracted as of late." You said tentatively.

The next kiss was slotted for tomorrow morning. Besides offering to help you with it, he never brought it up again. You knew better than to let your inner demons interfere with professional matters. This was a hill you had to get over no matter what, so you might as well get it over with.

He hummed, a soft sigh expelling from his chest. "Is it so obvious?"

You nodded, resting your back against the railing beside him. "What's troubling you? Does it have something to do with your early retirement?"

Your gaze dropped down to his hands. He was absentmindedly turning the wedding band around his finger. You always noticed it, because he'd remove it before every scene and slide it back on when it was over. Perhaps this was a ritual of sorts to him, something he did to remind himself that he was somebody's husband. That ring wrapped around his finger symbolized a contract he agreed to, a promise he made to his wife.

"It does, but trifling personal matters would have to wait until filming completes to attend to."

"I'm here if you need an ear…" You offered even though you knew he wasn't the kind of man to open up so easily.

"There's no need to burden you with my personal grievances." He declined politely.

"So is the offer to help me practice the next intimate scene still up?" You said, eyes glued to Zhongli's face.

"It certainly still is. I have no reason to withhold practice if you need it." He chuckled at your hesitancy. "Where shall we go? I'm presuming you'd prefer a more private setting to ease the nerves."

Your eyes fluttered around the crowded set with countless pairs of eyes at every corner. "Anywhere but here. Is the hotel you're staying at closer or mines?"

"I believe yours is the closer one." He supplied.

"Let's get out of here then." You took his hand and all but yanked him off the railing.

Zhongli's driver dropped the two of you off at the front of your hotel before heading back to the set. The sun had long set and the streets were alight with streetlamps, signs and digital billboards. Zhongli followed you into the elevator, taking his place beside you inside the empty lift. Your hands tightened around your clutch. You were thankful to have something to hold onto, because your hands were getting restless. He was just here to help you practice, you told yourself. Nothing was going to happen beyond recited lines and inevitable liplocking, as demanded by the script. You were just practicing, for the sake of nailing the scene tomorrow. This definitely wasn't an excuse to tempt the loyal husband of another woman.

Once the door opened, the lights came on. You poured Zhongli a cup of tea when the water came to a boil. There was wine in the cooler, but you should definitely stay sober while he was in the room with you. You ordered the two of you some room service while Zhongli reaquainted himself with the script for tomorrow's scene. Once you hung up the phone, it was strictly business.

"Should I put my hand on your shoulder while I say this part?" You asked, hand already sliding up the front of his shirt as you repeated the line. Your eyes were fixed on the papers in your hand.

"Have you memorized this part of the script?" He asked you, to which you confidently nodded. "Good. Focus on your body movements and expressions instead. It would be difficult to fully immerse yourself in your character if you're holding this." He reached out and took the stack of papers from your hand, setting it down on the bed beside you. "Look into my eyes when you say the lines."

You drew in a breath and delivered the line once more, hand resting on his shoulder. "It hurt, you know? Imagining you with someone else… do you know how many times I kept asking myself, why couldn't it have been me?"

Your heart clenched in helplessness. How ironic of you, reciting false lines offscreen and confessing what you truly felt through scripted words. If it weren't for this production, you wouldn't even get the chance to be a fool.

"It's always been you, silly. There was never anyone else." He tucked strand of your hair behind your ear. "I was just hoping you'd move on while I was on mission. All I could think of were my dogtags in your hands. I couldn't put you through that."

His words, as lovely as they were, only applied to his character, not him. You knew this all too well, but the excruciating truth did not stop your silly heart from skipping a beat.

"You better be thinking of me every moment you're out there. I want to be on your mind when you eat, when you take showers, when you go to bed…"

You wrapped your arms around Zhongli's neck, taking your time before pressing your lips against his. His breath was steady, warming your skin for a brief few seconds before you closed the last bit of distance that separated you from him. Your lips melted into his, soft and eager.

You wondered what was actually on his mind while his lips were against yours. Does his wife surface in his mind, or is it actually you? You couldn't compare to him when it came to experience on-screen. He's probably filmed more kiss scenes with countless actresses than you had scenes of eating.

Your lips moved against his desperately, unable to suppress the impulse to indulge. His hands held the back of your head, fingers buried in your hair. If you didn't know better, you'd think Zhongli was getting a bit carried away by you.

"Wait." He suddenly pulled away from the kiss.

Your eyes followed his hand as he hurriedly removed his ring, dropping it into his pocket. His breathing was slightly unsteady and his heart was beating erratically.

Zhongli peered down at you, pupils blown as he took in your disheveled hair and flustered state. His own chest heaved as he caught his breath. He tore his gaze from you, reaching for the cup on the table.

You stood there as he gulped down the rest of the tea, afraid to make a single inappropriate movement. His silence was louder than the obnoxious beating of your heart. Could he tell? Surely an actor as perceptive and experienced as him could tell the difference. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, further scraping off what little lipstick was left on it.

"Why don't we reattempt that? This time, allow me to pace the kiss. Urgency and unease captures surprisingly well on camera, but those are not the sentiments you are looking to convey. You want to entice the audience with confidence and control, both of which you were lacking just now."

"I… I haven't exactly done a lot of kissing on screen or off screen. So I can't really be confident…"

He chuckled at your honesty. "No need to fret. I'm here to help you find it. Hopefully you will have it by tomorrow morning or else I will have to stay the—" He caught himself before the thought could finish. "Pardon me, I didn't not mean it in that way."

It was your turn to laugh. "I know you didn't."

"Shall we?" He prompted.

You gave Zhongli a firm nod and repeated the lines leading up to the kiss, letting your hand trail up and over his shoulder again. Your lips met his again, but this time, you allowed him to take the lead, guiding the kiss at a more suitable pace. It was refreshing, and so much more enjoyable now that he was taking the initiative and you were only responding to his gentle ministrations. His kiss was patient, warm, and steady. Once again, you couldn't help but lose yourself. It was impossible to resist, with his hands in your hair, his body pressed against yours, and your lack of oxygen getting to your head. The tip of your tongue was met with resistance as you attempted to deepen the kiss.

Zhongli pulled away again, amber gaze sweeping over your flushed face and puffy lips again. His eyes narrowed and suspicion swirled in their depths as he observed your flustered state. It was a good thing the two of you were in the privacy of your own hotel room. It would've been a humiliating moment for you had you shown this lack of control in front of an entire crew.

You were not his protégé in the way Xiao and Ganyu were, but he had always been aware of how much admiration you held for him. He found you endearing, so it was natural for him to assume a mentoring role whenever he happened to be in your presence. When you stopped joining productions he had been casted in, he initially thought it was just due to incompatibility in your respective schedules. Months turned into years. You remained polite, but distanced, even on social media. He eventually realized that all those productions you joined in the past were in fact, not coincidental at all. You joined them in order to get close to him, to spend time with him, and to learn as much from him as you could. Your self-removal from his life had all but faded into an unresolved mystery.

Zhongli was on a year-long honeymoon haitus when you began distancing yourself from him, so of course he wouldn't have the mental capacity to dissect your strange behavior. After years of assuming you simply drifted away because you deemed he no longer had anything worthwhile to teach you, he's suddenly hit with an entirely different reason, one that he never even considered until your lips were pressed against his, your body practically melting into his arms. The way you were clinging to him, your wispy breaths feathering over his chin, and the way you stared up at him like some exhausted stray, none of this was pretending. He had been doing this for nearly two decades. With one glance, he could tell if you were acting.

He shouldn't have dragged you into this production, back into his life. What he thought was giving you a gentle push in your career turned out to be pushing you over the edge of a cliff. You were now swept up in a dangerous freefall and it was completely his fault. He could not dive after you nor could he just watch.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me." You quickly apologized, trying to salvage the awkward practice session. "Was that alright?"

You picked up the script again, pretending to refresh your memory. Zhongli also cleared his throat.

"Yes, let us continue from here." He pointed at the next line.

"Don't make me wait too long." You brushed off some imaginary snow from his shoulder. "One day, I might just give up and decide I've had enough of you."

He reached up, catching your hand and pulling you close. His other hand slid over your waist, holding you still.

He sighed, eyes brimming with guilt. "If that happens, I'd be happy for you. You could do far better than—"

He was interrupted with another kiss. Every time you pulled away, it felt like you had left a small piece of yourself on him.

"I can do better than you?" You finished his words for him.

Zhongli drew in a deep breath, feeling an indescribable weight on his chest as you waited for him to deliver his lines. The look in your eyes, the carefully concealed anticipation you were trying to hide, it was all clear to him now.

"I can, but I don't intend to let you off the hook so easily." You said, looking directly into Zhongli’s eyes.

A gentle tug on his neck caused his gaze to drop to his tie, which you held firmly in your grasp.

"Improvising, I see." Zhongli remarked at your little addition to the script. "You should note this down and discuss it with the director tomorrow morning before filming. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

You snapped out of character for a moment, blushing at his praise. "You think so?"

He nodded, smiling reassuringly. You immediately jotted down the idea.

Room service arrived just as you were about to resume practice. You didn't even realize how hungry you were until the food was set in front of you. After the two of you ate, you practiced for a couple more hours with him. You thanked him and sent him on his way once you were confident enough about the scenes you were filming tomorrow. It was extremely late and if you didn't wrap things up, he might as well stay the night. Of course, you only dared to entertain that diobolical thought for a split second before exorcising it from your mind. That would be much too scandalous.

When Zhongli returned to his hotel, his mind was all over the place. The events that had been plaguing him for the past month now had to contend with his shifting perception of you for the remainder of the filming. Your genuine feelings for him complicated things, yet he would have to carry on with seeing you everyday for the next two weeks and act like he was none the wiser. There was still one last kiss scene, or more precisely a bed scene with how far it gets. His throat suddenly felt dry at the mere thought. How could he possibly kiss and touch you like that, knowing that it would all be real for you?

He pulled out the wedding band that had been sitting quietly in his pocket, slipping it back on his finger. It glinted in the stale light. Memories fluttered through his mind of the moment he had first put it on. He had promised someone the world, but failed to deliver it. The smile on her face was so radiant then as opposed to the faint ghost of it that remained on her lips now. He was an accomplished actor, but his marriage was a far cry from what the internet had made it out to be and the world would soon find out if he is unable to salvage what was left of it. His heart had been ridden with a perpetual ache, dull as their love had faded into. Too many times he had disappointed her, left her alone to face the world when she needed him beside her. He couldn't even blame her for the rift that separated them now. The responsibility fell solely on him, because he had not held up his part of the vows and now everything was too late. When he received the papers, his heart sunk to the point where, for the first time in his career, he found it impossible to focus.

That was when you found him. He had to partially lie to you, hopelessly convincing himself at the same time that perhaps there was still time. He could still make amends and sacrifices. After this was over, he would retire and make true his words at the altar.

It was all he could think of for the past few weeks, clouding his mind whenever the cameras stopped rolling. The only times he could catch a break was when he donned the persona of someone who did not exist. This person lived a life separate from his own and did not have the regrets he did. It allowed him to temporarily shed his own skin and put on a thinner one.

There was also another source of distraction he could not escape, you. Ever since that first kiss behind the camera, he had suspected there was something amiss. Now, that he was certain of what it was, he knew why you were so tense whenever he was near and the reason you had kept your distance. He was blind for not noticing it all those years ago, mistaking it for simple admiration. He had already hurt you once without even knowing and it was inevitable that he would hurt you again.

Filming resumed the next morning. Thanks to all of the practice last night, you completed the scenes smoothly and efficiently. The kiss scene was wrapped up in just two retakes, much to the director's delight. You sent Zhongli a grateful smile, which he reciprocated. Needless to say, the less you two had to kiss, the better it was for your sanity. Nobody was willing to tear that thin paper barrier. You had a professional reputation to uphold and he has to put his ring back on.

"So do you go back to your wife after all this and become a full-time house husband?" You teased him, unknowingly tearing open an invisible wound inside of him.

He pulled on a smile. "If she will allow me to, I'm willing to."

Your brow went up in curiosity. "I suppose I can imagine you in an apron. You'll make a handsome house husband for sure."

He chuckled, but the joy in his laughter dissipated with a sigh. "I hope so…"

"She won't want you at home all day?"

Zhongli shook his head. "I'm not sure if she…" He pauses, realizing that of he finished the sentence, he wouldn't be able to take it back. You were the last person he should be burdening his marriage troubles with.

"Well, there's only a little over a week left. You'll be free to go back to her and make up for all the dinners you missed."

He fell into another silence at your words. Could he still make up for the past five years? All those days she had to eat alone, sleep alone, wake up alone in bed, they had no doubt worn her down like the steady erosion of what was once solid stone. If not for his neglect, how would they have gotten to this point?

The two of you parted ways. You went to check out a local shopping venue with your assistant and he returned to his hotel to finally open the package that had been sitting on the table for the past few days.

He drew in an unsteady breath when he read the title of the papers. The minute he was handed the package by the concierge, he already knew what would be inside it. Was her heart bleeding still when she went to pick these up or has the bleeding stopped, the wound closed, and the pain numbed by now?

Many times, he opened up the contacts on his phone, had the impulse to call her. Would she even want to hear his voice? These papers spoke loudly. They told him that she was done waiting for him, that she no longer wanted anything to do with him.

To put it gently, she was setting him free, but the cruel truth remained. She was cutting him out of her life. By doing so, she was reclaiming herself by renouncing those vows they made so many years ago. If he signed these papers, she would cease to be his and he would no longer be hers. He would lose her, as he deserved to.

The next few days flew by. The last few scenes were finally underway, with only two days of filming left. The scene you dreaded most was in slot for tomorrow and you had already lost sleep over it. Practicing beforehand with Zhongli had helped immensely with the last intimate scene, but the next one was something you didn't even know how to bring up with him.

You had kissed before this production, but sexual intimacy was not something you had experienced before. How would you even act convincingly if you had nothing to draw from? You had spent the past two nights watching porn, not that the script required you to do anything explicit, but you had to learn as much as you could for context. What sounds should you be making? What expressions should be on your face when his lips are on your neck as opposed to your forehead? All of these details have to be thought out ahead of time.

Worse of all, if you couldn't nail the scene, Hutao would absolutely force the two of you two retake as many times as it took to achieve her vision. You didn't want to repeat the recording process of the first kiss with a scene like this. It would be absolute torture for you and very uncomfortable for Zhongli. He had a wife, but had to see through scenes like this out of professional obligation. Some actors might indulge in it, but you were fortunate Zhongli had been strictly professional with you, even if your practice sessions were held in an intimate setting like your hotel room.

"I thought you wouldn't ask." Zhongli replied, a faint smile on his lips. "For such scenes, the audience's imagination does much of the heavy lifting, but we must provide something for their minds to run off with. If the shot is out of focus, we must still be in a reasonably suggestive position. The camera will rarely show your body, because nothing is actually happening between us, but we must give the illusion that something is. The majority of the shots will focus on our faces, interspersed with a few obscured full body shots and some close ups of our hands, so touching will not be completely avoidable."

You nodded, mentally taking note of everything he said like a good student.

"I've been doing some… uh, research on my own. I can mimic the sounds and expressions, but…"

His eyes combed your face, reading the crease between your brows. There were some things that you were unable to say, but he could guess what they were just from your expression and words alone.

"You've never experienced it yourself." He said with as little intonation as possible. This was simply the conclusion he was able to reach with the clues you had given him. Had you experienced it before, you would not be this unsure of yourself.

You nodded, a flush creeping into your cheeks. It was impossible not to when discussing such a topic, much less with Zhongli of all people. It felt unbearably scandalous to even mention such a thing, yet here you were, practicing a scene like this. How in the world were you supposed to stay professional?

"What is the most delicious thing you've ever tasted? You can supplement that in your mind. Ice cream on a hot day, or perhaps a piece of chocolate that you've been craving for hours. Something along those lines will do." He supplied.

"I imagine it would be a little more intense then eating really satisfying food."

He cleared his throat, looking away from your face as if to avoid seeing your reaction to the question he's about to ask.

"Do you touch yourself on occasion?"

His eyes might not be on you, but you were sure he heard your sharp intake of breath. Touch yourself? You were not some clueless teenager and neither was he, but admitting to such a thing in front of someone you've been idealizing for so long felt wrong. You wanted to lie. If you denied it, your festered admiration for this man would never see the light.

"Do you know how to? If you go about it incorrectly, it would be hard to reach the result you seek." He continued, gaze still averted. His voice was still steady, however it had taken on a barely noticeable graininess. "I do not wish to infringe more than necessary, but if you do not feel confident enough, even an infinite amount of reshooting will make no difference."

"Could you…" You began.

"I cannot." He answered firmly, even before you could make your request. "It would be inappropriate of me to, even if you do not mind."

You nodded, blushing furiously and grateful that he had interrupted you before the foolish words could ever escape. What were you even thinking? He was a married man and from what you had seen on the internet, it was clear that he loved his wife a lot. As enticing as he was, you should've known better. Even if you were to strip naked and throw yourself at him, he wasn't the kind of person who would cheat.

"Sorry, I… Could we skip over that part for now? You said the camera would close up on our hands. We might not be doing the real deal, but the script says we'll at least be undressing a bit." You changed the subject to something a little less stimulating.

"Indeed. Those shots are often comprised of hand shots. Untying belts, unfastening buttons, touching each other in suggestive ways, that sort of thing." He elaborated.

"How far do we need to go? The script is pretty vague when it comes to the actual shots, so I guess it's up to us."

He stroked his chin, recalling a previous filming experience perhaps. "As far as we need to give the illusion some momentum. It does not take much."

"Since you're here, can we practice?" You finally mustered up the courage to ask. That was the main purpose of meeting in the privacy of your hotel room, away from prying eyes.

"Certainly." He followed you over to the bed.

You began with the several lines of buildup leading up to the intimate scene. Zhongli took a seat beside you on the bed. His posture was relaxed and his gaze soft, completely immersed in the scene and in his character's adoration of you.

"Wait." You suddenly remembered something, reaching out for his hand. "Your ring."

He snapped out of his character, surprised that you had noticed his habit of removing his wedding band. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do." You smiled understandingly.

"Let us continue." He said after dropping the ring into his pocket.

The kiss was relatively easy for you, now that it was no longer the first time you've shared a kiss with Zhongli. He pulled away to smile at you, his gaze so unbearably tender, you wondered if he had in fact looked at someone this way before, his wife probably. What if he was imagining her everytime he kissed you? You wished you had someone to envision yourself with everytime you had to act out an intimate scene with an unfamiliar actor in the future. Would it be inappropriate if that person was him? Probably. You needed to find your own muse, preferably someone who didn't have a wife.

"Your mind is wandering, dear." He chuckled, noticing your brief lapse in focus.

"Sorry." You sighed, smiling sheepishly at him. "It just hit me how much my lack of love life affects my acting. I really should've gone on more dates before throwing myself into acting. If I had gotten myself a boyfriend or two before taking this role, it would've helped a lot in scenes like this."

"If it comforts you, I started with very little as well. It takes a considerable amount of time to accumulate life experiences, so do not let it bother you. You will often feel inadequate when scripts call for knowledge and insight you have yet to gain. Allow yourself the time to learn. No actor steps into a role completely prepared."

"I need to write that down and keep it in my wallet."

"Do whatever you need to remember." He smiled.

Practice resumed. The two of you exchanged a couple more lines before the intimate part of the scene finally unfurled. Your blouse was unbuttoned, exposing your cleavage and the lace of your bra, an alluring contrast to your skin. Your back was against the sheets, body caged beneath his looming frame. Zhongli's gaze swept down your chest, taking in the sight of you.

"Exquisite." He praises in that deep velvety voice of his.

You swallowed, heart racing against your ribcage. Even though you knew his words were scripted, you couldn't help the way they affected you. Under different circumstances, would he utter the same words? Would he still find you beautiful?

"Where would you prefer I touch you? I will restrict myself to those areas." He pauses to ask.

"Shoulders, waist, legs…" You imagined Zhongli's fingers feathering over your skin. "Anywhere except here and… there."

Your hands trailed from your chest, dipping between your legs. His gaze followed your movements, saw the way your thighs pressed together when your fingertips grazed against that sensitive place. The both of you were fully clothed from the waist down, barely touching, but it made no difference. The tension between you, the proximity, it had you drawing breaths as if something had sapped all the oxygen in the air.

Whether it was the warmth radiating off his skin or the way he gently cups your face in the palm of his hands while his lips caress yours, you couldn't differentiate what was real from what wasn't anymore. He was just a stray touch or an accidental brush away from taking advantage of you. If he wanted you, you might just let him have you, but he would never ask. He just wasn't the kind of person who would.

You bit back a gasp when you felt his hand on your thigh. His lips shifted, scattering kisses along your neck all the way to your shoulder. His other hand rested on your waist. Your mind was a mess and your senses in utter disarray. You trembled underneath him, fighting the impulse to seek even more closeness. He could only give you so much. This was all you were allowed to indulge in.

A moan escaped your parted lips, causing Zhongli to freeze. A shutter rippled through his body. He pulled away slightly.

"Are you alright?" He asked in concern.

The sounds you made, that unexpected moan, along with those tiny gasps you tried to suppress, they affected him more than his calm exterior suggested. He couldn't ignore them, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps it was because he could easily tell when you were and when you weren't pretending.

You nodded, collecting yourself as he climbed off of you. The scene cuts to black after the couple exchanges a heated kiss in bed, so a bit of touching was all that was needed. The two of you repeated the lines a few more times and discussed the details of the bed scene in a more tactical manner as opposed to the immersive approach you attempted first. The proximity and touching still happened, but you were able to remain much more clear-headed. You were even able to relax a bit, faking a few convincing moans and giggling over it afterwards.

"Aren't you going to put it back on?" You motioned towards his right pocket, where his ring was sitting. He slipped it back on, an appreciative smile on his lips.

"Try to get some rest. You did good tonight. Tomorrow's filming should go well." He reassured you before leaving. You stood by the doorway, seeing him off as he got into his van.

You let out a relieved sigh. If it weren't for Zhongli going out of his way to help you with these difficult scenes, you wouldn't be able to catch a wink of sleep the night before filming them. The horror of that first kiss scene left you terrified of the amount of retakes Hutao was willing to put the entire crew through. Hopefully you would get good enough at them to handle whatever was waiting for you in your future scripts. Not every costar was like Zhongli, as you learned these past few years. You were insanely fortunate to have him as a mentor, but you knew better than to expect someone to hold your hand throughout your career. That was your journey to take alone and nobody could guide you all the way through it.

When Zhongli returned to his hotel room, he headed straight for the shower. His tie, suit, pants, all were tossed haphazardly on the bathroom counter. He stepped into the stall, letting the cold water cascade over his body. With every intimate scene, his regret for dragging you into this production increased.

That budding actress who used to follow him around from one production to the next, asking incessant questions and constantly lighting up his phone with text messages, she had blossomed into an exceptional actress. He had come across a recent production you were a part of, which placed you back in his peripheral. Perhaps you still doubted yourself, or perhaps you just lacked the connections, someone who could put in a good word for you. Your acting outshined that of the two leads. Why were you still stuck in supporting roles? He truly just wanted to give you a hand, but he should've given more thought on why you suddenly went radio silent all those years ago.

You were in love with him then.

You're still in love with him now.

Even the cold water couldn't flush that damning thought out of his mind. He rested his forehead against the tile wall. The way you gazed at him after he kissed you, the brief flicker of happiness that you had to mask as soon as you regained control of your emotions, he noticed, but he could do nothing about it. The way your body responds to his touch, unfamiliar but far too receptive, if he wanted to, he could've… No, he couldn't allow his mind to go there. The little gasps and sighs you let slip while his face was buried in your neck, that moan that escaped when all he did was brush his fingers along your thigh, they were now seared into his mind.

He shouldn't, he reminded himself. He still had a chance to salvage his marriage, even if it was just a sliver of one. What was he doing, thinking of you? His eyes fell on the ring on his finger. In his hurry to get in the shower, he had forgotten to take it off. Everytime he filmed, the ring was out of sight. He was the one who was married, not his character. It would not make sense for the camera to capture a wedding band on the hand of an unmarried character, so it had become a habit for him to take it off. Many married actors and actresses simply don't wear them out of practicality, but he never found it an inconvenience. It was a part of the vows he exhanged at the altar. He was never one to take contracts lightly, be it written, printed, or spoken.

Thinking of you like this was a breach. He was not helping you practice. He was not acting. He was simply a distracted man, unable to reign in his wandering mind. Your flustered expressions, the softness of your lips, and the feel of your skin against his fingers, all these phantoms of you kept finding their way back into his mind. Something inside of him had crumbled tonight. He placed his palm against the wall, his breathing growing shallow. You rendered him brittle, like a chisel hammered deep into a crack. He peered at the glinting ring on his hand through the curtain of water.

He could hear you, everytime you called his name, that accidental moan, along with those little gasps you let slip. You were a decadent treat laid out beneath him. All he had to do was reach out. He might not have done anything to you just now, but he couldn't deny the devastating affect you had on his self control, especially now that he was alone.

With a frustrated sigh, he pulled the ring off his finger and placed it on the niche in the wall. He then adjusted the cold water to a more comfortable temperature. It was not working in the slightest.

A shuttered breath expelled from his lungs as he reached down, wrapping a hand around his hardened cock. He closed his eyes, pumping himself at a steady pace. It had been a while since he had done this.

He imagined your body trapped between his own and the slippery tile wall. The waterdrops adorning your breasts would make them appear even more luscious. He wondered how soft they would be in his hands. You'd bite your lip the way you do when you're trying to suppress your moans as he kneads them. He would part your legs with a knee. One of his hands would slip between your legs to play with your weeping cunt, fingering your clit and making you tremble with pleasure. You'd already be dripping for him, whimpering his name with increasing urgency. The adorable flush on your cheeks would get deeper as he pressed his lips against yours, drinking in the sweet sounds you make.

Tonight, he learned that you lacked this sort of experience. Probably didn't even know how to properly touch yourself, much less bring yourself to orgasm. He imagined you curled up in your hotel bed, the one he had you laying underneath him on. Were you just as affected by the heated practice session as he was? Was he on your mind just as you were on his? He really shouldn't be thinking of you like this, pleasuring himself at the thought of you.

If you touched yourself to the thought of him, would you be imagining his fingers curling against your squelching walls, or would it be his thick cock buried in your tight little pussy? Would you be imagining him fucking you from the front or ramming into you from behind? He let out a groan, the tip of his cock dripping as he worked himself into a frenzy. He would savor every needy sound and blissful expression you make as you take everything he gave you, your body trembling from the force of his thrusts.

Zhongli let out a loud groan as he finally released, spilling himself all over the shower floor. The water flushed everything away. He scrubbed himself clean and stepped out of the shower, heart heavy with a sludge of emotions. His mind also whirled with conflicting thoughts. Some revolved around you and some around a woman he had vowed to love and cherish until death did them part.

During that year-long honeymoon, he had taken a hiatus from acting in order to spend time with her. They had made love in more beds than he could count, so the attraction and affection was undeniably there. He strived to satisfy her, fulfilling every fantasy she could possibly have. He simply wanted to make her happy and he succeeded, for a while. She was an insatiable woman, but in his eyes, it had always been an endearing trait of hers. If it was air she needed, he was happy to supply her with it. Months flew by, countless shows of marrital bliss decorated their social media timeline. The joy was shared by all his fans, some innocently asking when the pregnancy announcements were coming.

Perhaps that was what started the spiral of self-doubt. After an entire year of putting off his career, he finally stopped declining scripts, encouraging her to return to her career as well. In his mind, he envisioned the brief separation would bring back the person he had known before they had gotten romantically involved. She was once a dazzling gem, but somehow when she fell into his hands, her light went out. Guilt rose from the shadows of their stagnant marriage, choking him until he could no longer breathe in her presence. He began taking more work, leaving her alone at home for longer and longer stretches of time.

Everytime he returned home from filming, her crestfallen face would tell him nothing had changed. He had long lost the power to bring her happiness, but he refused to abandon her. Everytime he slipped that ring back onto his finger, he renewed his vows. His patience had always been an asset, but this time, perhaps it was a liability, a gilded deadweight that he had chained the both of them to.

He had been hoping for so long for a miracle, yet what he received were papers demanding his signature. She always wanted what she wanted. Perhaps he had never truly understood her well enough. If they had dated for longer than they had, he would've realized they were incompatible. A fading memory, a marriage covered in years of dust, was it really worth salvaging? Would she even be happy if he gave into her demands now, or would she mock him for trying too late?

She was giving him an open door. Perhaps it was finally time to leave. He placed the ring on the stack of papers and dimmed the lights. All these years, perhaps it was this ring he should have taken off. The most difficult roles to take on were often ones unsuitable for the actor to play, but unlike film, life didn't come with a script.

---

Author's Note: I know this probably feels unfinished since Zhongli and reader didn't get together. It's a bit different from my other entries since it's less about the smut or relationship between Zhongli and reader, but more so focused on Zhongli himself. This fic was an opportunity for me to explore into darker themes.

Author's Note 2: I was trying to edit something and accidentally deleted the old post! This is a repost.

[kkyiu]

heart locket.

anton lee x reader

. . . confronting your ex was the last thing you needed amid a cold winter.

genre : angst , ex au

warnings : heartbreak , no use of y/n

wc . . 1.1k

You wonder why you dragged yourself to the park at 3 AM to face your ex-boyfriend, but here you are, revisiting the wounds of your heart just by seeing him again.

The first thing you noticed seeing Anton for the first time in what feels like an eternity, was the silver necklace resting on his collarbone. The heart locket was hidden under his coat, but the intricate detailing of the chain could have you recognize it within a heartbeat.

It had been a year and four months since you two called it quits. You try your hardest to manipulate your mind to think it came to a mutual agreement, though it only aches your heart remembering how he took the initiative. After the breakup, Anton's whereabouts were nonexistent to you considering how he blocked you on everything and you were never close with his friends, so there was no way to find out how he was dealing with the breakup.

Only after several breakdowns and disassociations you went through at the expense of the breakup, you were slowly picking up the pieces of your heart. Anton wasn't occupying your thoughts anymore and you started going out with friends again. It’s safe to say you were happy again, thinking the same for the other party, but only way quicker on his side.

Well, the assumption of him moving on was soon to be proven false when you received a text from an unknown number, revealing it to be your ex, asking to meet.

A giant part of you wants to curse him out for breaking no contact to drag you outside in the cold. But another part of you hated the way you willingly let yourself obey his words.

Nevertheless, there he was right in front of you, dressed neatly in a black wool coat that complimented his tall figure which reminded you how much of a beauty he was.

You two were the only figures spotted in the park that was engulfed in darkness, the only sources of light being the dimly lighted broken street lamps and the illuminating bright moon. The bottom half of your face was buried under your big scarf to shield against the sharp breezes. You kept a safe distance from Anton because if you were any closer to him, you'd certainly let your guard down and take the opportunity just to cup his face once more. The necklace kept stealing your attention considering how intently you kept your eye on it.

The silence was finally broken when he said your name, his voice barely above a whisper. Hearing your name come out of his mouth in such a distant tone felt so foreign. "I'll just get straight to the point." He continued, "I regret every bit of it, I mean breaking up with you. I..I thought it was the right thing. My insecurities were eating me alive, and I kept thinking you deserve so, so much more than what I was offering. I know now that I was the biggest coward to do that," the smoke of his breaths was visible due to the cold while you kept listening. "I'm sorry for shutting out after the breakup and causing you pain."

You exhale a wobbly sigh, flashing him your glossy pair of eyes. Your eyes were already filled to the brim with tears and the sight broke him completely. “Anton…” He cut through your words and unknowingly took a step closer toward you, "I found myself going to every place we went, hoping to catch even a tiny glimpse of you, wishing that I could undo this mess." You just listened and listened, carefully taking in every word he said. Out of habit, Anton reached to the tiny necklace pendant of his for solace and you can’t help but crack a tiny sad smile.

You hadn’t realized how much the space between you two had closed and you swear you could catch snowflakes land on his eyelashes, dissolving within milliseconds. Seeing him this vulnerable made you want to take back all the hatred you had for him leaving.

"Your heart locket.” You finally acknowledge, and you notice his slow blinks in realization. He pursed his lips and undoes his clutch, revealing the silver heart-shaped pendant. He was taken aback that you called it out despite it being hidden under his coat.

He still recalls the day you gifted him it for his birthday early in the relationship. He'd proudly show not just you but everyone around him the small black-and-white photo of you smiling brightly. The necklace witnessed every moment of the relationship. From a full day of laughter on the beach, sharing the first kiss, and stargazing nights to petty quarrels, deafening yells, and a pool of tears during the final night of the relationship.

It was as if every memory he shared with you was captured in that tiny little pendant, and anytime it was open, everything would flood back up. He couldn't bring himself to take off the necklace because then it would mean losing you all over again and he couldn't bear to go through that the second time.

"This was all I had left of you." The locket was again closed in his fist and you could see his knuckles turning red from the biting cold. "I wish you knew that you were all I wanted," now it was your turn to speak, "I wish you knew that you were the only light through my darkest times and I didn't need anything else. So, yes, you sitting me down to say those three words hurt me an amount no words can summarize." You lock eyes with him, tiny apologies flooding in his dark orbs with a frown on his face.

Anton took another step closer, "Please..." he breathed your name once again, prompting you to shake your head, "Anton, no. It's been more than a year and I've moved on. I'm happy now." You say, though your words are unconvincing to him. “I swear I'll love you right this time if you just give me this chance." His soft-spoken voice became unsteady and a single tear ran down his cheek. Overtaken by emotions, Anton let his head wearily drop on your shoulder. You stood there frozen, contemplating what to do with your ex-boyfriend physically relying on your smaller build.

Your heart breaks for him and the least you could do was wrap your hands around his waist, hoping to console him with your touch. Getting carried away, your hand found its way to his hair gradually caressing his soft streaks. His muffled sobs accompanied you as you started to feel your wool coat getting damp.

Although it was truly tempting to drop everything and return to his love, you couldn't. For the sake of both of you, maybe locking up the memories in that heart locket will do nothing but good.

[manic-sapphic]

crimson waste catra ranting~

it's ironic, cause w the backdrop of a lifeless desert wasteland, every moment of the super pal duo out there gives me so much damn life. hp restored in full every time.

catra and scorpia, desert beauty queens in less than a mf'ing day, just casually ruling the place.

they party for the first time in their lives - catra is actually letting herself laugh about shit and has been all damn day - pretty sure she laughs more that one episode than prob like, the whole series at that point. after the sword 1/2 i feel like it doesn't get heard much.

they kick ass across the desert, and yeah, a grip of catra's laughter was done while leaving a trail of mf'ers in need of medical attention you know they def don't have in the crimson waste ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

aw but poor scorpia :/ (i maintain she and catra both ended up w who they shoulda)

but it's still sad to see her get the closest she's ever gotten to breaking down catra's walls only to have it last 2.5 seconds before they're reinforced to the max. cause scorpia def was down to hang out as a desert duo and yeet any lil moron catra points at so far into the horizon, even if they survived the impact, there's no way they coulda possibly had enough water on em to make the walk back.

--but before any of that, i think it's catra's initial reaction to finding out the crimson waste isn't uninhabited after all -- so much about catra's lil monologue in the desert shanty-tavern kinda floors me.

it seems like catra doesn't care anymore if she lives or dies - part of her speech in the tavern is just a cautionary: "i'm down to go full-tilt savage, claws out, with 0 regard for how it turns out. i'm up for the coin flip so if you're gonna come at me, you better be too"

and her behavior after that point seems to reflect that as well. but what i find to be pretty heartbreaking about it is probably that it takes being at her wit's end, feeling so worthless and existence so pointless- it's not until her life feels irrelevant to her that she can let go and kinda enjoy herself. but ultimately, she'd rather let go for good; catra would rather dissolve into the void than make any attempt to return to her real life.

and in the waste, as she warns everyone in the tavern not to fck w her, there are these brief sentiments she actually allows herself to express aloud - prob cause it's a room full of strangers she never expects to see again - of vulnerability interwoven throughout her threats of hostility (even if they're expressed in an aggressive tone)

she warns everyone against tryna mess w her, yeah. but it still kinda gets to me that, however vaguely, she even tells them why.

cause catra didn't do that. not anymore.

and ps i dunno if it's just me, but i'd imagine after how much time had passed since shadow weaver used catra to escape-

hearing "shadow weaver is in bright moon" probably hit different than if she heard "shadow weaver came to bright moon" or "was in bright moon" ... i'd figure knowing adora was fine with sw sticking around, prisoner or not, might get under catra's skin a lil extra at the time.

[kloss-karliee]

it's always a mess but i think i'm more of a mess than they are, honestly the only thing that changes for them is what house they sleep at and the fact that mommy is gone for a few days. i always miss them when i'm gone. it is one of the hardest things i have to do when it comes to work related trips. it's been a while since i had my last puppy. i don't know if i can take that heartbreak again. at least, not any time soon. it was hard every single time. oh yes, my ex and i are fantastic at this co-parenting thing. i didn't know how well it was going to go and yet somehow it's going so great! i think we work better this way. we were such good friends before we got married in the first place so this just made so much sense. they are all a blast! we all get to really enjoy the fashion at it's core breakthrough level. which is just beautiful. it is so much easier to just pretty much walk to my fashion week and not have to get a hotel room or fly across the world haha. not that i don't enjoy the traveling but it's just so much better to be able to wake up and enjoy it from home! oh my gosh that is so sweet of you to say! i'd love to grab coffee or something with you sometime! are you going to be in Miami for the D8 night on Sunday?

I can only imagine how hard it is for parents when they have to leave their kids, especially when I get so emotional over just leaving a dog! Because I know it would break my heart even more, so I have no idea how you parents do it! Oh, and I can only imagine how you would feel if you had a puppy thrown into that mix as well, because I feel like you'd have to be the strongest woman alive to be able to put up with all those sad eyes directed at you! Though it's good that you have an amazing co-parent situation with your kids dad, I love hearing that. And that's true, and I'll be heading back over the weekend, so she'll be seeing me soon! And she's going to get so spoiled when I get back home too, she's going to be treated like the princess she is. Oh, I love New York Fashion Week just as much as I love Paris! I just love most fashion weeks in general, they're always so much fun, and I just love seeing all the new clothing and styles. But I can see why you'd be partial since you live in NYC, because yeah, not leaving home sounds like a great idea! And I would love that, you've been someone I've looked up to for a while, so meeting you would be a dream!

[yinwaryuri]

So uh. The Paradise of Thorns, right?

[a-random-allison]

Just wanna point out that it looks like Stolas leans into Blitz after some time sitting on the couch. Just letting himself grieve with Blitz near him

[dirtytransmasc]

me when I realize how willing Alicent was to die for her son (she stood between him and a dragon. what was she meant to do? she could do nothing against a dragon. even if she shielded him from the flames, it wouldn't be enough to save him. she stood there, knowing if Rhaenys was set out to kill her son she would go with him. she stood there accepting that if her son died she would go with him. she would protect her baby with her last breath. she would go out holding his hand, head held high, bathed in fire because there was nothing she wouldn't do for her children):

[ssaraexposs]

"AKUTAGAWA DOESN'T CARE"

Explain this panel then:

[theshinazugawaslut]

None of you, and I mean, NONE OF YOU, will ever understand how special Todoroki Shoto is to me.

[another-clive-blog]

Back to thinking about Claire and Clive and their traumas born from the same tragedy yet entirely different

You ever think about the fact that Clive's parents were (almost) never directly mentioned ? Layton mentioned them for the backstory talk and that's all, objective "they are dead" statement. And the other time we heard about them was in the flashback. In both of these cases, they're only evoked to announce their death, nothing else. We never get to hear about them in present tense, Clive himself never speaks about them. They're just... Gone. They won't come back, not thanks to revenge, not as ghosts, not even in discussions. They're dead and they'll stay dead.

On the other hand, Claire is very much alive- or at least she looks like it. Even before we get to the Claire reveal, every character keeps her memory alive. Dimitri is doing this all for Claire, Layton is a living tribute to her, Don Paolo's character is linked to her choices. She's everywhere and haunting the narrative before we ever learn that she is literally haunting the narrative. She's corporeal enough to change things yet her time is up, so really how much change can she bring ? She is stuck in this transitory state where she doesn't get to live yet can't die and disappear either. Even if she were to die once and for all, most of our characters would still have her as a driving force. She is forced to influence this story far beyond her death.

I wonder how they got along. Clive for whom death is absence, it is forgotten family and empty homes, and Claire for whom death is life persisting, loud with memories and transcending feelings.

[cinemaocd]

Furiosa x Jack are like Peggy x Stan if there was an apocalypse on Madison Ave. in the '60s...

[perrybearwaks]

Man that was so so good... the powers, the platforming, the art, the music, the fact that I’m going to just be Emotional For All Time Now. Absolutely beautiful in every way. Loved it so much ;-; ❤️

[lilacerull0]

elena knows how to be alone wayyyy better than lila does

[freak60000]

i CANT stop thinking about how heartbreaking simon and betty’s story really is like every time i think about it i’m so emotional because it’s so bittersweet and so beautiful and so tragic and such a perfect doomed lovers story i can’t take it i haaate them