#day one hundred twenty seven

[187days]

Day One Hundred Twenty-Seven

Whew, today was a long one. I just got home a few minutes ago because Eighth Grade Open House was tonight, so we were welcoming the Class of 2028 to our building for the first time. For my fellow ninth grade teachers and I, that meant giving room tours and answering questions, but the night actually started with a presentation by our admins down in the auditorium, some performances by our dance team, band, and drum line, and information from school counseling about how to sign up for courses. There was also an extracurricular activities fair in the gym, a photo wall, and other fun stuff. So it's a cool experience, and I'm glad we do it.

I am going to use my combined union rep and department head clout to argue that we should get paid for it. Right now, it's one of those non-mandatory things, but folks feel like they have to go (despite me saying otherwise) or else it looks bad.

But anyways.

Before open house, I had track practice (timed 40m repeats in the halls for the sprinters because it was wicked cold outside today). And before practice, of course, I was teaching my classes.

My APGOV students had a test today. It's a long one, so they're going to finish it tomorrow (which is an early release day for students, so the blocks are shorter than usual- it's going to be the perfect amount of time). They say it's "pretty chill," though, which I'm glad about. This particular group tests very well, albeit more slowly than past groups of students I've taught. It's interesting that they're so different, but, hey, not going to complain when they're doing well!

I had the students in my two "B" sections of Global Studies doing the same history lesson their peers did yesterday. It went fairly well in the first section, and extremely well in the second. For whatever reason, students were just locked in. They had no trouble understanding what to do, produced excellent work, and even finished ahead of schedule. So that was unexpectedly awesome!

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic: Shift

Danny wanders down the street, confused.

A few minutes ago, he had been sure that the tour guide and his school group were only a few feet away. They were on the last day of their three-day field trip, covering the history of one of the oldest cities in the USA.

It's not the oldest, but the closest Casper High could offer. Gotham City is much bigger than Amity, but it didn't have anything really interesting about it besides having more things to do. Its only claim of fame was how old some significant buildings were in Old Gotham.

Still, for some students who have yet to leave the small town of Amity Park, Gotham was a thing of wonder. Danny couldn't wait to explore with Sam and Tucker tomorrow on their free day. They were going to walk around the plaza market and the mall.

Gotham's mall had five floors. Five.

Then Danny noticed the hotdog cart just a few feet away from the guide informing the group about the large theater, the first public building in Gotham. He hadn't cared for how many balls were held there or how, a few hundred years later, the building gained a stage and seats.

He gestured to the cart to tell Sam he wanted to buy one. He turned to Tucker, but his friend was genuinely interested in the history lesson and shook his head. Danny figured they would cover for him, so he stepped to the side to buy a hotdog, keeping Tucker and Sam in his provisional vision.

He had just finished putting the ketchup on his food when he realized the sounds of the busy city had shifted. It wasn't that it went silent or anything. It was more like sound traveling from one headphone to another.

But he wasn't wearing earbuds, which made the shifting noise extremely alarming. He looked up and around, but everything seemed to stay the same, except there was less traffic, and the sidewalk wasn't as clean as he initially thought. Also, what happened to the sun? Where did all these clouds come from?

Danny turned to ask Tucker and Sam if a freak storm was supposed to happen, but they were gone. So was the Amity Park group. Swinging his head back and forth, he attempts to spot them in the moving crowd, but he can't spot a familiar face.

How did twenty-seven people move that quickly and silently?

"Hey! You need to pay for that!" The hotdog vendor on the other side of the cart shouts. "The ketchup isn't free!"

"But I just bought these two from you." Danny raises his food so that the man can see the logo of his own cart. The man's eyes widen when he sees it. "I just paid-"

"You little thief! You stole from my cart!" The man sneers. Danny reels back, surprised by the accusation as much as the rage in which the man yells. It seems like an overreaction to the student.

"No, I literally just handed you seven dollars for-" Whatever Danny is going to say is cut off by the man cocking a gun, now aimed at his face. Nearby, a woman screams, and the walking crowd breaks into a run, almost as if it's practice clearing the street in seconds.

Wow, it's a much better reaction time than the people of Amity Park. He would have been impressed if he hadn't had a gun aimed at his face.

"What are you doing?"

"You damn street rats are the reason good upstanding citizens like me are struggling! Go back to your county!" The man hisses, and Danny is confused by the sudden attitude shift of what he previously thought was a friendly vendor to take the gun in his face seriously.

The guy wasn't even that scary, not with that pathetic stance. Danny had learned a better stance by the time he was five, and his father had pointed a gun at him in a more threatening way that one time he was dressed as a rubber duck than this.

Scowling, Danny pushes the gun away with the tips of his fingers. "Rude. See if I give your food any stars."

The man makes the motion to pull the trigger, so Danny moves his hand into a strike, knocking the gun from his grip. In one quick turn, he turns it around and points it at the gawking man with a bored expression.

"I'm going to walk away with my meal now," He tells him, watching sweat gathering on the vendor's forehead. The pulse in the older man is rapidly bouncing around his neck, making Danny smirk.

Hotdog man goes sheet white but shutters out, "Alright."

Danny keeps the gun aimed at him even as he gathers his two dogs in one hand and backs away into the street. It's only when he turns a corner, out of sight, that Danny lowers his weapon.

He texts his friends in the three-way chat they have, asking where they went. When a few minutes goes by without the little read sign next to his words goes by, Danny tries calling them. His phone, however, claims his services are out, making him wonder if his Dad forgot to pay the bill again.

Jack could afford it, but the bill deadline always slipped his mind, and he would like to have to wait till Monday to turn it back on. Sighing, Danny decides to head back to the hotel where the school is staying, thinking it would be better to wait out for Mr.Lancer than get lost in the big city.

He strides down the street, following the same path the group took from the Hotel. As he does so, he notices something odd.

Gotham seems wrong. Darker somehow, and the previously friendly people had all vanished as everyone around him gave him dark, mistrustful glances. Not everyone smiles back when Danny says, "We're strangers, but this is a quick, friendly acknowledgment" smile.

It couldn't be the gun. Danny hides it in his pants, the same way he hides his thermos. No one should be able to tell what he's carrying.

It is strange. He's so busy trying to figure out what happened that he nearly misses the fact that the previously well-kept streets have been replaced with closed-down, decrypted buildings. He does notice that the hotel he was staying at for the past two days was boarded up, looking like it's been years since someone last used it.

"What?" He whispers, checking the large sign twice. It's the same name, but three letters are missing.

"That's what I want to know." A man grunts behind him, causing Danny to wirl around and stare in horror at the approaching police officer. "What are you doing with here?"

"I was staying at this hotel." He tells the other man, too disorientated to notice how silent the street had become. He can spot some people watching from the alleyway despite broad daylight. They were hiding. From what?

"Were you? And how much do you have on you?" The cop asks casually.

"Of what?"

The man rolls his eyes before he suddenly kicks Danny in the stomach. The boy is knocked to the floor with a soft grunt of pain. A stomp on his hand has him screaming in pain, but what really makes him angry is the fingers moving around the back of his hands until they close around his wallet.

Nah, was this cop trying to mug him?

Danny throws up a hand, using the palm of his hand to slam it against the chin of the mugger. The man's head is knocked back, and he tilts over, falling into a dead heap. Danny stands, dusts his clothes, and kicks the cop once.

He looks back to the hotel.

Where should he go now? A few seconds go by, and he can see the people in the alley cautiously start to climb out of their hiding, and he thinks it's better to try to find a phone to call home.

He twists on his heels and marches down the street, unaware of the man in yellow watching from a nearby roof.

The man reaches up to his ear, clicking on his communicator as the stranger looks confused despite knowing where he is going. "This is Signal. I found the guy that triggers the Nest's alarms. He seems trained but can't be, at most, sixteen. He also just took down Jeff, the one Gordon was talking about. Let's keep an eye on him. He looks like radiation grew legs and took the shape of a human. "

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.

“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”

“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.

“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.

derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.

“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”

emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”

three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.

he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.

“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.

before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.

“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”

“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”

“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”

“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”

“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.

“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.

“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”

all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.

spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”

“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.

with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”

“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”

“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”

“i don’t like this conversation either.”

[seokgyuu]

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?” 

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 

[heavenlyraindrops]

“ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ.” | ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | {ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇʀ}

☆ Warnings/tags: sports!photographer!reader, eventual smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, social media au/ smau, reader is just a silly little guy

☆ Available on: Tumblr, AO3

Your career in sports photography definitely couldn’t have been possible without your portfolio you’d built throughout college- more importantly, your ability to force yourself to stop taking pictures of the same athlete who’s name you didn’t know. (You swore you didn’t have a crush on him.) However, when you, years later, get a job at the Tokyo Dome, you didn’t expect to have your expensive professional camera smashed in by a hall hurtling towards it at speeds faster than your car.

As for the man who had caused the destruction of your equipment- he was determined to apologize- however, in the process of doing so, he seemed to have found a fan from his earlier days. Frankly, he found it flattering.

alternatively…

“Approximately ninety-seven out of two-hundred and twenty-nine images posted on her professional account include your face,” Mina concluded. Ken stared at her blankly. She remained silent for a few more seconds, letting it sink in, then spoke again. “I suggest scrolling to the very bottom of her account, her earliest days of photography, Ken.”

“Ninety-seven?” He asked incredulously, and Mina simply repeated her previous statement. Scroll down.

He did. It took him a while, but he finally managed to hit it, and-

“I’m in college in these.”

His eyes scanned the pictures on the screen- most of which were of him. College games, every one of them. He’d never noticed her in the crowd. Had he?

And there were so, so many.

He could feel heat creeping up his neck. He didn’t find it creepy, or stalkerish- not at all, but instead dared to feel a tiny bit flattered. 

Oh, she was obsessed with me. That’s kind of cute. 

He wondered if she still was. 

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING SEOKMIN INCLUDES…. — sfw

• loud, loud, LOUD mornings.

• he will definitely wake you up by singing.

• you bought him a karaoke machine for his birthday one year and you really, really regret it.

• he notices even the slightest change in your mood and voice — he typically becomes a worry wart after this and wracks his head for things he could have possibly done to piss you off.

• lets out a huge sigh of relief when he realizes it has nothing to do with him.

• he will a hundred percent drag you out of the house to play baseball with him.

• he doesn't laugh at you when you aim the ball the wrong way and teaches you instead.

• y’all order pizza A LOT.

• people may call him sunshine as a nickname, but you're HIS sunshine.

• his happiness is contagious so whenever he's around, you always seem to be in a good mood.

• has random moments in which he serenades you.

• one year for your birthday he asked woozi to help him write a song for you — it was truly one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done.

• he ALWAYS sends you a good morning and good night text.

• he would drop anything for you — he would rather be with you twenty-four seven anyways.

• dokyeom will NEVER catch an attitude with you. he absolutely refuses to take his anger out on you, especially if you have nothing to do with the situation.

• whenever he's on tour he's constantly thinking of you. he has no control and ends up coming back with a bunch of trinkets from different countries as gifts.

• whenever you seem him it's like all your problems and worries immediately vanish into thin air, he is your comfort person.

• if you asked for a piggy back ride, he could have a broken leg and still would not care — whatever his princess wants, she's going to get.

• he's the type to promise to protect you before going through a haunted house together, but then ends up hiding behind you and using you as a shield the entire time.

• whenever you scold him or get angry, he always looks like a kicked puppy and it has you immediately feeling guilty afterwards.

• dokyeom would be the kind of guy who would watch romcoms with you and actually enjoy them.

• he LOVE, LOVE, LOVES to hold hands.

• you have never felt so admired and loved in your entire life until you got into a relationship with him.

• dokyeom remembers everything about you, no matter how simple or little.

• he would show genuine interest in your hobbies — if you like ballet he would insist on taking a class with you, if you like to swim he would recommend taking a beach trip, if you like to read then he will read an entire series within a few days just so you can talk to him about it.

• you two say "i love you" about a hundred times a day.

• you can tell him absolutely anything because you know he would never judge you or see you in a different light.

• he gives you a lot of reassurance and is constantly making sure you feel good about yourself.

• if you cry then he for sure might tear up or cry with you. seeing you in such a state breaks his heart.

• he was SO SO SO nervous when meeting your parents for the first time that he showed up in a suit and tie to a barbecue — you definitely make fun of him for it to this day.

• he's so in tune and sensitive to your feelings. he never wants to hurt you in any way and always thinks before he speaks.

• whenever you two get into arguments, it is over rather quickly. you both agree that you two would rather spend the night cuddled up on the couch together than sleeping back to back in the bed with complete silence.

[ronearoundblindly]

He Needs the Calories

It's just silly Steve Rogers fluff based on my favorite joke this holiday...

Summary: Steve has his own tradition the night before the Fourth.

Entirely, utterly stupid, and I don't care because it made me smile. Enjoy! WC ~1k

"What the hell is all this?" you screech at Steve, finding an eleventh gallon bag of cookies tucked in a basket at the bottom of the pantry. "Why do you have a metric ton of...what? Sugar cookies? Cutouts, snickerdoodles, thumbprints? My god, what are you doing? Running your own bake sale?"

Steve's eyes shift guiltily from where you stand to the fridge and back.

You drop the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip treats and step backward to open the french doors.

"What's in here, Steve?"

"Nothing," he rushes.

"What's in the fridge, Steve?!"

He jumps to push the door shut before you can peak in. "It's not a big deal, ok? You don't wanna see."

This is starting to feel like the end of the movie Seven. What's in the cold box?! What's in the box, man?

Steve might be clearly ashamed and hoping you give up, but he uses no force to stop you. His bright blue eyes simply plead for your understanding.

Crammed into the tallest shelf are five--count 'em, five giant pitchers of...milk.

It's not store containers though; they're the type you make your own drinks in.

"Wha...."

You look at Steve, confused.

"It's a joke," he starts to explain.

"Are you taking a milk bath for your supple skin?" you snip.

"No. In the compound," Steve tsks back. "You know, like Santa. Ha-ha, leave out milk and cookies for the patron saint of Independence Day, ha-ha...or whatever."

He looks at his feet.

"So they give you the milk and cookies on the Third."

"I--uh--I wait until the compound closes and people go home, and then I collect the stuff from all the little break rooms and waiting areas. Employees' children come in to specifically to set up the plates."

He rolls his hands around as if that settles things.

"It's cute."

"So you bag up hundreds of cookies from fifty rooms in the building, pour glass after glass of milk into pitchers, and then hoard them like the freaking Cookie Monster in the apartment...You know you don't have to consume all of this, right?"

Steve balks at the mere suggestion. He's appalled.

How. Dare.

"What? I'm not gonna throw them away. That's such a waste! The kids would be so disappointed."

"Then you share them, Steve. You put them somewhere the adults can help you finish them off. You do not eat twenty-five pounds of butter and sugar and flour in one single day."

He shrugs, defiant in his plucking of one full gallon bag back from the pantry and reaching past you for a pitcher.

"I'll run a little extra," he mutters with a pouting lip. "I need the calories."

That's the last, laughable thing the big guy says before shutting himself in a room, snacks in hand.

Well, you think, it's oddly fitting that the patron saint of America is a glutton.

A/N: Look. I warned you it was stupid. I also warned you that I did not care BWAHAHAHA

Happy Birthday, Steebie 😘

🍪🥛🍪

[pirateprincessblog]

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢��𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center. 

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes. 

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

 your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

[187days]

Day One Hundred Twenty-Seven

My World students told me how much they liked yesterday’s karate demo, and how cool it was to watch, and how “It’s better than doing work.” So I wasn’t sure how they’d react to drafting current events- in paragraph form this time- today, but they were actually quite excited about it. One girl in my Block 3 class even yelled, “YES! I LOVE THIS!” when she read my agenda board.

So, hey, awesome. 

I went over the instructions, students got to work, I helped as needed. Another great moment: one of the students I’ve been trying to build a rapport with asked me if he could write about the recent theft of six Dodge Challenger Hellcats (he’s into cars), and, when I said yes, asked me if I wanted to see the footage of the theft. Obviously, I said yes to that, too, and it was wild. It happened in less than a minute. So now I’m excited to read this student’s write-up, and said as much. That earned me a smile. 

Cue the music of triumph. 

My APGOV students also started this class by talking about the last one. They agreed that Tom White’s a terrific lecturer. They also said that he’s really frank, less cautious about what he says than most high school teachers. They continued to contrast his teaching style with mine, but one student did say we had similar vibes. So I revealed what longtime readers of this blog know: Tom was one of my teachers, and inspired me to become a teacher, too. 

After that, we focused in on the content of his lecture, and the direction America was headed in the 1920s and 1930s. Then I showed them the civil rights planks of the 1948 party platforms, and they saw that the “states rights Democrats” were still virulent supporters of segregation, but that northern Democrats, Republicans, Progressives, and Socialists all came out- to varying degrees- against segregation and racism. Clearly, something had changed, and my students correctly guessed that it had to do with WWII, and with the thousands of Americans who saw how the eugenics-based Nazi ideology had played out. 

So then we started talking policy changes in the US: Truman’s desegregation of the military, Brown v. Board. We watched an interview with one of the Little Rock Nine, which sparked several questions and comments. Tomorrow I’m going to teach about Boynton v. Virginia and the freedom rides.

It’s cool to teach about the fight back.

Then I got to go to practice and put some sprinters through 100m repeats: two sets of five, 400m pace. It’s a beautiful day, it’s a hard workout, it was perfect.

[earlysunshines]

it's (always) you

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff, angst

synopsis: everyone has a set date and time tattooed onto them indicating their date of death. it’s your time soon, so you move out away from the city and end up in a small town and meet a very special girl.

warnings: slowburn, pining, angst ; mentions of death ; making out! making out w mo dani… ; reader has trauma (parents dead or wtv) ; anything else not mentioned ; literally not proofread it’s joever…

a/n: hi mo dani enjoyers i hope u all enjoy i lowk (highk) put a lot of effort into this embrassingly enough so um Yeah pls lmk how u like it ^_^

everyone has a predetermined time and date for their death. whether it’s a natural end or something peculiar, there’s no avoiding it. 

this inevitability applies to everyone. no one can escape this fate—not your friends, parents, and not you. there are no exceptions, no miracles; no one can escape death unless they’re something more than a human. 

as far as you know, you’re very much mortal. there’s a mark on your upper rib that has the date of your destined death in dark ink.

one thing you can escape is your misery, you're not going to spend the last few months of your life cooped up in a cramped, single bedroom apartment. the time you have left is short, so you might as well make the most of it.

before your parents passed two years ago, they entrusted you with a key to a safe, urging you to open it when the time felt right. they died on the same day, figured that going for a swim on their beach trip with you would be a wonderful idea, espeically on their death day. they often joked that they were soulmates, destined to be together. this belief was cemented not only by the matching date tattoos they had, but also by their coincidental placements—your father's mark below his left ear and your mother's below her right. their love and fate were intertwined in a way that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

you wonder if there’s some other universe where you’re all still together, you often wonder about that.

the safe they had given you is in the depths of your storage closet, you had shoved it there when you first moved in and haven’t touched it since – not until now.

it’s placed on your coffee table, you’re sitting on the floor and staring at the key biting the inside of your lip. when the time is right. the words ring in your head and you think, is this it? how do you know?

you don’t have time to wonder if this is the right time, either way, the safe will have to be opened sooner or later. you have exactly seven months, you can’t risk it. besides, you’ve already decided that you’re selling everything you own in your small, claustrophobic apartment and leaving for good – at least until it’s your time. 

you push the key into the slot, turning it to the right and hearing two clicks before the door unlocks. you move your hand over to the little door handle and hesitate for a moment, swallowing shallowly before you open. 

inside, there’s a small shoebox, a little book, and a debit card being held to a note with an old rubber band. it’s a little dusty inside, making you cough when you pull out each item and examine them all closely.

the shoebox is the first thing you reach for. brushing off the dust, you notice the little adidas logo before carefully opening it. your hand flies to your mouth in shock at what you see inside. it’s filled with cash—stacks of bills neatly arranged. you estimate there’s enough to cover your rent for three or four months at least. you can't believe your eyes, staring at the sight longer to ensure it isn’t a dream.

grabbing a stack, you measure its thickness against your finger, finding it to be about half its length. as you flip through, you discover each bill is a twenty. from the color and what you can glimpse in the rest of the box, you notice some stacks start with fifties, more twenties, and you’re almost certain there’s one topped with a hundred. the sheer amount leaves you awestruck, the reality of it sinking in as you carefully examine each stack.

the next item is the little book, you open it to find things worth more than all of the money in the shoe box. 

there are pictures of you as a child, of your parents before you were born, and of the three of you together. as you flip through each page, the photos become more recent. by the time you reach the end, you realize it’s a chronological timeline capturing every moment they could. each image, a fragment of your shared history, leaves you feeling both nostalgic and overwhelmed. a tear slides down your cheek and you don’t even realize it.

the last item is the debit card, you look at it, grazing the material and looking at the slight dust on your fingers after. 

you open the letter, looking closely and reading what’s written:

debit card value: 15000.

y/n, we miss you as much as you do, really. 

we hope this finds you well, and that you have time left.

do what you will with the money, and don’t spend too much time sulking looking at the pictures.

be happy and don’t miss out on anything. make friends, experience more, meet people, maybe even find your own little soulmate. ha.

we love you always, don’t forget it. spend your time wisely, and live life to the fullest – don’t waste out on anything! 

– lots of love, always, mom and dad.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. the ache in your chest is bittersweet, but mainly bitter. 

when you finish reading, a few drops of water stain the paper in your hand—tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. now you find yourself sniffling, holding this piece of love from your parents.

 you pinch your eyes shut, wiping away the tears, but the crying only intensifies. it’s overwhelming – all of it. the countless hours spent staring at the ceiling, missing the two people who raised you, trying to hold yourself together until you had time to grieve. and now, holding this letter, it feels like a fresh wound.

–

you have no clue where you’re headed. 

it took you two hours to stop crying and finally pull out your laptop. before opening the safe, your plan was to find an escape from the city. through squinted eyes, sniffles, and a pile of tissues, you managed to load the website for train and bus tickets. there were various options; one of them was to take a plane to somewhere completely foreign and figure things out there. however, the price was steep, and despite everything, you realized you still had a fondness for your area; a piece of your parents was practically anywhere if you stayed, and you can’t imagine leaving.

so now you’re on a train staring out the window as it departs, watching the buildings in the distance fade into trees and natural sights.

you bought the train and bus tickets because they were cheap and led to the water, ironically enough considering how your parents died. you always loved the beach, and your parents did too, maybe the beach loved them too much. besides the worst incident on the beach, many happy memories often had the beach lingering close, and it had always been a little dream of yours to just laze around someplace nearby it. after the chaos of the city that had surrounded you most of your life, you craved something quiet, mundane, and rural. a serene escape to the beach seemed like the perfect place for your final moments. 

besides, you might as well follow in your parents’ footsteps.

you had fallen asleep on the train, exhausted from the emotional whirlwind. a gentle tap on your shoulder stirred you awake, and you slowly opened your eyes to see an elderly lady gazing at you with concern. 

her kind eyes and soft expression immediately made you feel a bit more at ease. “are you okay?” she asks, voice slightly raspy.

“h-huh? hi, sorry, yeah.”

“you’re not dying today, are you?” she questions worriedly, but looks pretty unbothered despite her inquiry. “at least you didn’t pass sleeping on the train.”

“no, no.” you blink hard, waving your hand in the air as you dismiss her and simultaneously wake up from your four-hour nap. “i have um– a while before that.”

“good, good.” she says, then waves at you. “better get off quick honey, you wouldn’t want to miss your bus, would you? wherever you’re headed…”

“ah, no.”

“the busses in this area take longer since it’s not the city, you better hurry!”

“right, yes. thank you miss.” you nod at her, getting up and putting on your backpack, then grabbing your suitcase. you walk down the aisle, following behind her and getting off.

you check your ticket crumpled up in your pocket, looking at it closely and looking around for the stations. you pass by a small cafe and convenience store as you rush down the corridor, desperately looking for the sign that shows bus ‘11.’

ten minutes pass, your eyes finally find the sign, and five people are getting on to the bus as you catch sight of it. you run as fast as you can, picking up your suitcase during your rush and manage to get to the bus just as the doors had closed. 

you knock on the windows of the doors, the bus driver looks at you, raising his brows and sighing as he presses a button. in no time, the doors fold inwards and you hop on, breathless.

“thank you so much,” you say in between breaths, “i’m sorry.”

he nods, then looks at you expectedly, holding his hand out. “ticket?”

“oh, yes.” you open your fist, giving him the slightly crumpled paper you had in your hand as you ran towards the vehicle. you look at him apologetically, muttering a small, “sorry.” 

the bus driver tilts his head, motioning for you to just get on and find a seat. coincidentally, you make eye contact with the lady from before, sighing in relief and sitting next to her after seeing her pat down the empty space.

“i suppose we’re headed the same way.”

“yeah, what a coincidence.” you breath out, smiling at her. you haven’t smiled in a while, it feels good to do it, and it feels even better when she pats your shoulder and smiles back.

–

an hour later, the bus comes to a stop, and the old lady taps on your knee while you’re ten seconds away from falling asleep. 

“this is where i get off dear.”

“ah, um–” you still have no idea where you’re going – the only think you know is that this bus allegedly leads to the beach, somewhere close at least. something about the lady and seeing her again urges you to follow her, it just feels right. maybe she’ll lead you where you need to go. “--this is my stop too.”

“ah, i see.”

“do you need help with your bags?”

“i’m quite alright dear, thank you.” she says, grabbing her big purse and scooting out after you had done so. 

you follow her out the bus, then admire the scenery around you. 

it’s three in the afternoon and the sun is shining all over, warming your face up. you’re in a small town, there’s the same shops and whatnot that you’d find in the city, but it’s smaller, much more home like, and in the distance you can see bright trees, bushes, and a small trail leading out. your mouth is agape just slightly as you observe and admire; it’s beautiful wherever you are.

“beautiful, right?” the lady is still there, you hadn’t noticed. “your first time here?”

“yeah.” you mumble, turning back to look down at her. 

she smiles warmly and asks, “are you hungry?” you pause, opening your mouth to respond, but no words come out. sensing your hesitation, she smiles again, brushing it off. “you must be tired too. come, i’ll cook you something.”

before you can answer, she’s already heading off, dragging her suitcase in a different direction. with nothing else to do and no plan – you follow her. 

as you walk, you pass various buildings, from quaint shops and cozy cafes to cute bookstores and a post office where elderly men play chess out front. the sight makes you smile without realizing it, a sense of comfort and fondness settling over you for this new place you've found.

it’ll be alright. you think, looking down at the back of your phonecase to see a small picture of you and your parents through the clear material.

–

she leads you to a restaurant down the road, it takes less than ten minutes to get there and only one turn after walking down the same sidewalk.

there are two small wooden tables outside, each with two matching chairs. behind the seating area, a large glass window offers a clear view inside. the window, though slightly worn, proudly displays a sign that reads "lee’s kitchen." through the glass, you can see more seating inside and a front desk. 

everything about this place exudes comfort, from the trees, vines, and bushes that surround it to the cat sleeping peacefully beside a flower pot. the greenery wraps around the building and is highlighted by the sun’s glow, adding to its charm. the calico cat, nestled in a cozy spot, seems to embody the tranquility of the area. you love it already.

she leads you in, a bell ringing when the door opens. 

she points over to a small table by the wall, gesturing you to settle down and relax for the time being. 

“you can place your luggage on the other chair, there won’t be anyone here today.”

“right, thank you.”

“mhm.” she checks the clock on the wall, then smiles. “my granddaughter might barge in, let her know im cooking in the back, alright?”

“yeah, of course. thank you again.”

“it’s no problem…”

“y/n.” you respond. “my name is y/n.”

“lovely name. you can call me mrs. lee. settle down alright?”

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” she says, then disappears behind the counter and past the door to the back.

you walk over to the table she had pointed to, setting your bag next to you and leaving your suitcase nearby. you sigh, closing your eyes and then opening them again to look around. near the counter there’s a photo framed of ms. lee, an elderly man, and a younger girl who looks around six years old. looking at the frame you smile. the photo looks a little old, similar to the photos your parents had left you. 

you take in the whole area, illuminated by warm lightbulbs that cast a cozy glow. the tables and chairs, though a bit older, feel comfortable and inviting. the ground is covered in faded dark gray marble tiles, and the seating areas are made of sturdy wood. plants are scattered around, adding touches of greenery. in one corner, there’s a tv that’s turned off. you’re not used to older places; everything in the city was either renovated or styled to look vintage. but this place is different—you can tell it’s genuinely aged with love and care, its authenticity warms your heart.

the bell above the door jingles, you turn your head to see who’s stepped in.

“grandma? are you back? who unlocked the door…” she mumbles the last part to herself, then furrows her brows and clutches her backpack strap when she sees you. “who are you?”

“oh, hi. um, your grandma is in the back, she led me here…”

“huh.” she hums, then shrugs. “i will be back, stranger.”

“um, okay?”

the girl walks past the counter and towards the other door, you assume this area is just the restaurant and their home is inside it. a few moments later, the girl comes back and sits in front of you. she’s changed out of the school uniform she had been wearing earlier and is now wearing an old t-shirt and linen shorts.

she looks at you, narrowing her eyes. “you’re not from here.” she states bluntly.

“i’m not.” you respond, looking back curiously. “you’ve got a good eye.”

“most people from here don’t have more than three piercings on their ear, neither do they have many tattoos.” she points out, her eyes filled with wonder are drawn to the faint flower on your upper forearm with a date printed on it. she tilts her head, widens her eyes a little, then says, “the date on your arm has already passed.”

“it’s my parents’ time, not mine.”

“oh, i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright.” you assure. “i’m from the city.”

“ah.” she clicks her tongue. “that’s cool.”

“is it?”

“i’ve heard lots about it, i’ve been once when i was young. it was cool.”

“kinda.” you smile at her, then rub on the ink tattooed on your arm. “did you grow up here?”

she hums. “born and raised!” 

you can’t help but giggle at her energy and curiosity. 

the girl looks about sixteen, quite young. she has a smile on her face now, quickly eager to converse and mingle with the random woman in her… home? restaurant? you’re not sure, but you figure you’ll find out.

“right, that’s lovely. is this restaurant yours?”

“my grandma’s.”

“ah, i see. i like it, it’s nicer than all of the ones in the city.”

“really?” she asks, then smiles wider. “my grandma’s restaurant is the best here.”

“is that so?” you respond cheekily, entertained by her statement. 

before she can respond, her eyes redirect behind you and she lights up completely. she gets up, rushing over and you turn to see her hugging mrs. lee. 

“you’re back! i didn’t think you’d be back so early grandma.”

“well, i’m here. did you eat enough at school? have some bibimbap. i’m worried you haven’t been eating well these days hyein.”

“i’m fine grandma, haerin shared with me.”

“kang’s daughter?”

“yes!” the girl beams – hyein.

mrs. lee walks over to your table and gently places two bowls in front of you. hyein sits back down across from you, eyeing the food hungrily. you look down at the bowl filled with spinach, carrots, beef, string beans, mushrooms, rice, and a sunny side up egg on top. the sauce poured over it makes the dish look even more mouthwatering. you glance up and catch hyein's gaze, which makes you smile. 

her grandmother, mrs. lee, affectionately rubs hyein's shoulder, then yours. you look up in surprise, touched by the simple gesture of kindness. “eat up you two.” she says.

“thank you mrs. lee.” you respond sincerely, then mix up everything in your bowl. the older woman walks away, disappearing behind the counter again.

you take a bite of the food, sighing as you chew and it looks like you’re melting. it’s wonderful.

“told you it’s the best.” hyein shrugs, then takes a bite herself. “i missed this.”

the two of you eat in silence for a bit, it’s nice. you’re eating lunch with the granddaughter of some lady you had met miraculously, and it’s really making you happier than you’ve been the past few months. 

hyein finishes her bite, swallowing and then asking, “so, what’s your name? how did you get here? are you travelling or something?”

she throws a lot of questions at you, you finish your bite before responding, “well, my name is y/n. i took the train and bus here, i don’t really have a plan. i think i’ll stay here as long as i can, it seems right.”

“really? you’re going to be the talk of the town then.”

“am i?”

“yeah, you’re new. everyone here knows everyone, but it’s not a bad thing that you’re new. everyone here is very nice.”

“that’s good.” you mumble, then take another bite.

“where are you staying?”

“probably a hotel nearby, i guess.”

“you’re going to stay in a hotel nearby the whole time?”

“until i can find a place to stay for a bit, not too long.”

“how long?”

you dig at your food, poking your spoon at a mushroom in your bowl. hyein continues to eye you, looking at you deeply and waiting for an answer. you take another bite, then look to the side toward the framed photo hung on the wall.

“until my time is up.”

hyein pauses, looking at the side of your face until you turn back to meet her eyes. her lips part, she doesn’t speak for a bit. you continue, “i have a while though. i’m just… trying to make it through until i can’t.”

“ah. i’m sorry.”

“it’s nothing to be sorry about hyein, it’s natural.”

“right.” she says quietly, then takes another bite of her food. “danielle’s time is up soon too i think.”

“danielle?” you question.

“this girl in town, probably your age. she’s really nice and wonderful, you wouldn’t even know that she’d be dying–” she clears her throat before rewording, “-- that her time is soon. she’s like… a ball of sunshine. you’ll probably run into her.”

“ah.”

“you say that a lot.”

“well what else am i supposed to say?”

“i don’t know.” hyein shrugs, then laughs. “it’s funny.”

you stick your tongue out at her before the two of you start to finish your food again. 

–

mrs. lee insists on letting hyein help you find a place to stay because she apparently is out all the time and knows almost every nook and cranny of the town. 

the closest (and only) hotel in the town is nearby where the bus had stopped. it’s small and seems to be a little on the older side. hyein leads you in, immediately getting greeted by an older man who smiles at her fondly.

“if it isn’t ms. lee hyein.” he grins, then looks at you. “ah, you’ve brought a friend?”

“this is y/n. she’s looking for a place to stay for a bit.”

he looks you up and down, eyes lingering on your tattoo. then he smiles, he has a lovely one. the man has visible wrinkles and dark gray hair, he wears a button up shirt that’s loose on him and chino pants held by a brown leather belt.

“well, that i can help you with ms. y/n.”

“thank you sir.”

“no need for formalities.” he waves his hand, “i know a wonderful single bed room for you.”

“thank you.”

he leads you towards the stairs, there’s no elevator in this hotel. it seems much more like a big home rather than a hotel, at least compared to the city. he leads you to the second floor of the building, then down the hall and to the room right at the end. hyein follows the whole way.

he fishes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, holding it open for you to roll your suitcase in. you marvel at the sight before you: a well-made queen bed, the perfect amount of space, and curtains drawn back to reveal a distant beach. the azure water glimmers, mesmerizing you. it looks like a pleasant bike ride or a short drive to get there. the room feels inviting, a sanctuary with a breathtaking view. 

“woah.” hyein says, looking out with you.

“it’s beautiful – the beach and the room sir.”

he laughs, then smiles proudly. “im glad you’re fond of it. will you be staying?”

“yes, yeah.” you respond immediately. “it’s amazing.”

it’s more than that, you wish you could live here. waking up in the city gave you the same view of the building next to you, which was boring and nothing compared to the top of the apartments with rent that costed more than a third of your previous paycheck.

–

you spend time settling into the hotel, but not too much. you’re still looking around for a place to stay, the houses aren’t too bad, but you won’t be here long enough for it to be worth buying. 

the apartments aren’t too bad either, but they’re small and cluttered. you’re a bit lost on what you should do, so you spend time exploring the time while you reconsider everything.

additionally, you’ve been over at mrs. lee’s to just lounge and clear your mind. it’s nice sitting by the counter watching the regulars come in and mingle. 

hyein – the sixteen year old girl, basically a child – is your first and only friend at the moment. after school (for her), around three hours past noon, you spend time eating lunch with hyein, talking to her about your current situation and asking her for advice since it’s her hometown.

you explain that the prices are pretty scary, but not too bad, and hyein dismisses your suggestions. 

“those neighborhoods are not as nice as mine, try this area.”

“are there any good places?”

“apartment down the road, but i don’t know… the owner is kind of sketchy.”

“what do i do then.” you sigh, taking a bite out of your cold noodles. “the hotel is pretty and all, but it’s not cheap at all. plus, i don’t think the money i have can keep me going.”

“hmm… i’ll have to ask my grandma.”

you sigh, poking at your noodles again. you hear the bell over the restaurant door jingle, both you and hyein turn your heads to see who’s arrived – just out of curiosity.

hyein's face lights up with surprise and joy as she sees the woman who has just walked in. she jumps out of her seat and rushes to hug her, wrapping her arms tightly around her. the woman smiles with her eyes closed, hugging hyein just as tightly. hyein whispers something you can’t hear, then looks at you and excitedly tugs the woman over to your table.

they reach where you’re sitting and that’s when you notice just how striking the woman is.

your ears twitch and you straighten your posture. the woman has a few moles on the right side of her face, pretty eyes with noticeably long eyelashes, and is smiling at you sweetly. she tucks a strand of hair that isn’t tied up, then greets you, “hi.” her voice is higher than yours, soft, and bright.

“this is danielle, i think i mentioned her.”

danielle. she’s the girl hyein was talking about, she also had little time.

“you have pretty eyes.” danielle catches you off guard with the sudden compliment, you feel your cheeks warm up just a bit. “it’s nice to meet you…?”

you cough. “y/n. it’s y/n.”

“cute name! how do you like the town?”

“oh, it’s lovely.”

“it really is. have you been to the beach yet?”

“i haven’t gotten the time.”

“that’s a shame, you should visit soon when you have the chance.” she says, then turns to hyein and hugs her again. “well, i have to get going. i just wanted to stop by and say hi!”

“do you really have to?” hyein whines.

“i have to help out at the shelter, sorry hyeinie.”

“aw.” hyein pouts. “i’ll see you later then.”

“oh for sure, i was planning on having dinner here with my family sometime this week.”

you watch hyein smile brightly and grab danielle’s hand, leading her back to the entrance, leaving you alone. you continue to gaze after them, admiring danielle’s side profile and grinning to yourself. something about her, just upon seeing her, feels inexplicably right.

as soon as danielle entered your field of vision, something clicked inside you. it’s like a dream, a sense of déjà vu that you can’t quite place. the feeling is both familiar and surreal, as if you’ve known her forever and yet are seeing her for the first time. plus, your body tingles, you feel yourself relaxing and tensing up at the same time, it’s odd; you don’t even know her.

you linger in that moment, captivated by the strange yet comforting sensation that her presence brings.

–

a day later you’re back at mrs. lee’s restaurant, hyein has led you to the back where the kitchen is, then leaves you alone with her grandma.

mrs. lee stands there cutting up some carrots, then says, “i heard you’re looking for a place to stay?”

“yes.”

“have you had any luck?”

“um,” you haven’t had any luck, because each place either had a sketchy landlord (according to hyein) or just didn’t sit right with you price wise and really just with the overall atmosphere. you shake your head. “no, not yet.”

“y/n,” she starts, pausing and setting her knife down. mrs. lee looks at you with an intense gaze, making you feel small despite her being nearly a head shorter than you, and even shorter than hyein. “would you like to stay here?” she asks, her eyes searching yours for an answer.

you freeze, looking at her with disbelief. “w-what? are you serious?”

“we have space for you.”

“i– i couldn’t, i don’t want to be a burden.”

“you could always help out at the restaurant. maybe even help out hyein with her studies or anything like that.”

“really?”

“yes dear. hyein suggested it, she’s really fond of you.”

you continue to gaze at her, stunned by the offer. you wonder if it’s truly okay to live with them, having known them for less than two weeks. it might be a hassle for them to accommodate you. yet, hyein has been keeping you at the restaurant, sharing stories about her day and clearly enjoying your company. her happiness is reassuring; she’s a good friend. 

the offer is incredibly generous—a place to live in exchange for some help. it’s a fair trade, and with the money you have, you could contribute in the best way possible.

mrs. lee still stares at you, waiting for an answer. 

you nod. “i’ll take it, thank you so much. i promise i’ll do anything i can to help and not be a burden.”

she laughs softly, then gestures towards the carrots on the cutting board. “have you ever cooked?” she asks.

“um, yes. my dad used to work at a restaurant.”

“perfect. could you chop these into thin slices? do you know how to jullienne them?”

“y-yeah, of course. let me wash my hands.”

she claps her hands together, looking at you proudly. “and you even know the hygiene policies.”

you smile at her, laughing as you turn on the sink and then excusing yourself when you accidentally splash water on an employees apron. mrs. lee looks at you fondly. she watches you cut the carrots with precision and decent speed, nodding with approval.

–

the room next to hyein’s is a guest bedroom, it’s quite small, but it’s more than enough.

hyein helps you with your luggage, but you assure her that everything is alright. (she still helps you out anyway, at least with your trinkets and whatnot)

you leave the suitcase with your clothes on the ground and unpack your things from your bag, hyein eyes your cd player on the bed, looking at it closely. you catch her staring, then grin.

“you can check it out.”

“really?”

“of course.” you assure. she eagerly sits down on the bed and looks at the small device, turning it around and inspecting each side. you laugh and head over next to her, pulling out a cd from your bag. “here,” you hand it to her. you press a button and it opens something, making hyein’s eyes widen. you place the cd in, then press play. 

an instrumental plays, filling the quiet room with a soft melody. you stare at the ground, humming along slowly. hyein observes you close.

“what’s this?”

“an old chet baker cd, it was my dad’s. he collected many, i tried to bring all my favorites here with me.”

“it’s nice.” hyein mumbles, “the song.”

you flop down on the bed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling. 

“my parents used to cook dinner to jazz, this was my dad’s favorite. my mom is a fan of fred astaire.”

you spend the next thirty minutes playing your favorite songs for hyein, she’s fond of everything you show her. she hears you humming along, and it makes her smile. she’s only known you for a little while, but she can tell you’re one special person. 

–

two weeks have already flown by, and you’ve been working at lee’s kitchen in the meantime. you start early in the morning, continuing until hyein returns home. then, you help her with any studies she needs assistance with. when that’s done, she eagerly drags you to her favorite spots, showing you the best coffee places around to satisfy your cravings, even if it’s a bit late for caffeine.

you've settled into something comfortable, maybe even a routine. if this is how you'll spend your last couple of months, then you're perfectly fine with the mundane. you don't have any siblings, but hyein is what you imagine it would be like to have one. you two bicker the way you've seen others bicker, and you enjoy every moment spent together. despite the three-year age difference, you've grown close quickly, sharing laughs and conversations about anything.

this is when you learn that it’s not time that makes strong bonds, it’s the people and their energy. you’ve known others for years only for them to walk away and drift off in a snap, none of those years added up to what you have with hyein.

she’s something like a sister to you, something like that. maybe a cousin – something familial.

–

“here’s your mandu, sauce, and vegetables. you sure you don’t want anything else?” you ask the customers outside – an older couple, maybe in their thirties or so.

the woman shakes her head, then smiles at you warmly. “thank you, it’s fine, really.”

“right, just let me know if you need anything.”

“thank you.” she says finally. you smile then turn to pick up the dishes left on the other table outside, and also the six dollar tip.

you balance the dishes on one hand, but almost drop them after turning around to see a familiar face, someone you met a few weeks ago. 

her slightly grown out bangs fall over her forehead, parted in the middle. she looks at you with a smile, her pretty brown eyes sparkling. her long eyelashes make her even more striking, she looks like a princess almost, especially with the morning sun shining down on her. danielle waves at you, her smile growing wider, revealing a glimpse of her teeth.

“y/n! hi!” she greets, “i didn’t know you worked here too?”

“hi danielle.” you mumble, “mrs. lee gave me the job a few weeks ago actually, i’m really grateful.”

“ah, i see.”

you nod, then turn your head at the door. “let’s go inside, it’s pretty hot out here.”

“right.”

as you head through the door, you turn your body a bit so that the dishes on your hand can fit through too. danielle follows right behind, then seats herself right at the chair by the counter. she watches you head to the back, then peek out a minute later and pat down your apron. 

you pull out your notepad, then ask, “what can i get you?”

“hmmm,” she pouts a bit as she thinks. “some cold noodles would be great, just a small portion though. could i get some sliced carrots on the side?”

“of course, anything else?”

“your company when you’re done with it, if that’s possible.”

you look up from your notepad, she’s just looking at you with her head tilted and smiling. you swallow lightly, then smile as you respond shyly, “um, i can… do my best. it’s not busy, i’ll ask mrs. lee.”

“great.”

offering one more smile and avoiding eye contact, you rush to the back and give the cooks the order. mrs. lee is cutting vegetables, you hesitantly approach her. she looks up, then smiles at you warmly before handing you small carrot slice. you laugh, moving your head over to grab it in between your teeth and take a bite.

“have you eaten yet dear?”

“no, um it’s nothing though. i just had a question.”

“you should eat soon… and what was it?”

“do you know danielle?”

“marsh?”

“i don’t know her last name… um, she has brown eyes and long lashes. very smiley.”

mrs. lee clicks her tongue. “yes, i know her.”

“right, yeah. she’s here, she ordered cold noodles and–”

“--carrots, her usual.” mrs. lee finishes your sentence. “sorry, what about her?”

“she just… asked me to keep her company.”

“well go on then.”

“oh, really?”

“you haven’t eaten either, go fix yourself something up and keep the girl company. she’s a lovely lady, really. very nice, very bubbly. hyein loves her, everyone does.”

“right.” you nod your head, looking down at the ground quickly before adding, “you’re sure it’s fine?”

“dear, this isn’t the city. it’s not too busy here, especially not right now. i don’t want you starving either.”

“of course, thank you.”

–

danielle waits nearly ten minutes, she’s looking at a magazine on the table before you’re back outside with her dishes. she immediately lights up looking at you, which makes you blush a bit; is everyone here so happy and bright? 

you place her food down in front of her, then run back behind the counter to take off your apron and grab your own dish before sitting down next to her.

“whatcha got there?” she asks, eyeing your bowl.

“just eggs over rice with seaweed and soy sauce, nothing big.”

“looks wonderful,” she grabs a carrot slice with her chopstick and eats it happily. “yum.”

“yeah,” you awkwardly look down at your food before taking a bite. “yum.”

it’s strange, but also oddly comforting. being next to her is stressful at first, both of you simply eat in silence and danielle hums hear and there to let you know how much she enjoys her dish. you find yourself smirking as you eat, but don’t dare to look at her. not until she starts a conversation.

“so what brings you here?”

“sorry, what?”

“to the town.”

“oh.” you say mid bite, then swallow. “just… troubles. i needed to get out the city and… live a little.”

“i love that.” she grins, then takes another bite. 

“thanks?” you let out a little laugh before poking at your egg. “what prompted you to ask me to give you company?”

she shrugs. “i just think you’re interesting, that’s all.”

for some reason, an enamored flutter stirs in your chest. you mutter a small, “ah,” before taking another bite of your food. even after danielle finishes her meal first, she keeps asking you questions, eager to have a conversation. when you finish your meal and hear the bell above the door ring, signaling a customer, mrs. lee suddenly pops out from the back and pushes you back into your seat. danielle giggles, extending your time together.

during your conversation, she learns that you’re an only child, about the tattoo on your forearm that you got because of your parents, and your hobbies. talking to her is surprisingly easy, much easier than with anyone you’ve ever met in the city. there, people shut down small talk, so you eventually gave up. but danielle isn’t the type to give up. she gives you her full attention, which is different than you’re used to.

this urges you to ask your own questions. you learn that she works at an animal shelter owned by her friends’ parents and tends to the pets. she even pulls out her phone to show you pictures of a dog she’s become close to—a fluffy friend named jerry. as she swipes through an album of two hundred photos, her expressions are adorable. it’s heartwarming, and you feel a sense of connection that you hadn’t expected.

“he’s so lovely and playful and–” a notification on her phone cuts her off, you read a bit and it’s a reminder that she has to clock into work soon. she frowns, then apologizes, “agh, i lost track of time.” and so did you, it’s been nearly thirty minutes but it had felt like five. “i should get going, it was great talking to you! hey, if you have time you should come over to the shelter! i can write address for you if you get lost.”

“it’s fine,” you say, already stacking both of your dishes together. “and i’d love to visit.”

“great, i love your company.”

“you do?”

“of course!” danielle giggles again, it brings a smile to your face. “i’ll see you around, okay? promise you’ll visit?”

“yes, yeah.” you mutter, “i’ll drop by.”

“great,” danielle says, then fishes for a marker in her little purse. she grabs your hand, catching you off guard. “can i?” she asks, pointing to your forearm. 

“o-oh, yeah, of course.”

“sweet.” she starts to scribble an address, then a number. you watch closely, then your eyes drift away from your arm to her concentrated expression. she finishes writing and caps the pen again, clapping her hands proudly. “i also put my number just in case, text me if you need!”

“thanks danielle.”

“you can call me dani! since we’re friends now.”

friends. it makes you happy hearing it, you’re friends after a single conversation with her. 

“alright, thanks friend.” your response earns a snicker from danielle, she’s shaking her head and smiling at you again before saying,

“you’re funny, i like you.” it sends another flutter in your chest, you gulp. “see you!”

“bye dani!”

she waves at you again before heading out the door, eliciting a jingle sound throughout the restaurant. you keep staring at the door, stuck in place until you feel a tap a your shoulder. 

when you turn around, mrs. lee is beside you looking at the door and smiling.

“she’s a very sweet girl.” mrs. lee says, then looks up at you.

“yeah, i can tell.”

“she seems to be fond of you.”

“really? that’s good…”

“i’m glad you’re making friends y/n. you can’t hang around hyein forever…” she jokes, it makes your cheeks burn from embarrassment. you’re nineteen very much an adult, the revelation that your closest and only friend is a sixteen year old girl who’s currently in class. 

you laugh, then shyly mumble, “thanks.”

–

later that evening, you and hyein head out to explore. you mention your conversation with danielle, and the girl walking next to you beams, evidently delighted. 

you suggest walking to the animal shelter where danielle invited you to visit, and hyein lights up at the mere mention. she jumps up and exclaims, “yes!” before grabbing your hand and leading you down the road with infectious enthusiasm. it seems that danielle spreads all kinds of joy and excitement wherever she goes. how lovely. 

the two of you make it there in no time, the ten minute walk seemed like nothing, somehow.

it’s a small building, but it looks incredibly charming from the outside. the wooden framing and exterior give it a warm, cozy feel, and the little sign reading “kang’s kare shelter” makes you smile. the place exudes a welcoming vibe, and you can only imagine how much lovelier it must be inside, especially if danielle is there too.

walking in, you’re greeted by someone who isn’t danielle.

instead, it’s a girl who lights up after seeing hyein, who runs behind the counter to hug her. 

“haerin! surprise!”

“what are you doing here?”

hyein pouts, parting away and groaning, “you don’t sound thrilled.”

“pftt, you’ll just steal the snacks i bought.”

“hey! i’m also here to see the animals… and you i guess.”

the girl—haerin, presumably—rolls her eyes at hyein with a snarky grin. then she looks at you, tilting her head as you walk over and stand across the counter. hyein perks up when she sees you, dramatically gesturing with both hands as she introduces you.

“this is y/n! she just moved here from the city.”

“y/n?” haerin questions.

“that’s me.”

“oh, danielle mentioned you earlier. your eyes are nice...”

“what?” you raise a brow, confused.

the girl shrugs, then mumbles, “nothing.” she walks out, tilting her head to urge you and hyein to follow her. “come, i’ll show you the pets. danielle is doing a check-up on the only client—er, animal—we have.” she explains, then looks at hyein from the side, raising her brows with fake annoyance. “and hyein, i know you’re only here for jelly.”

“you know me too well.”

“whatever…” haerin sighs, opening a door to a room with three cats inside.

hyein gasps, looking at them all in awe. in a gentle voice, she fawns, saying “awww” and immediately running over to crouch down and pet the black cat by the window.

haerin walks over to the cat in the corner, clicking her tongue softly. the cat looks up at her and immediately walks over, rubbing its head against her hand. haerin smiles, petting it with care and affection.

you make your way to the orange cat sitting on a small chair, clearly designed for pets. you crouch down, gently stroking its fur. the cat stirs awake from its slumber and meows contentedly, making you smile. the room feels warm and peaceful, filled with the quiet sounds of purring and the soft rustle of fur. 

after a minute or two of admiring the furry creature and snapping a few pictures, you catch haerin in your peripheral crouching down next to you, her eyes on the cat as she pets it too. 

“danielle is in the room down the hall, just to let you know.”

“hm?” you turn to face her, she’s still petting the cat. 

“go out the room and turn right, she’s in the room two doors down. she’s just doing a check-up. you can go see her if you want."

“oh, thanks.”

haerin turns to look at you. “have fun.” she mumbles, then brings the orange cat in her arms, looking at it like it’s her child.

you look over to see hyein sitting against the wall, all her attention is on the two cats that have found their way to their laps. you snap a quick picture before leaving the room.

your heart quickens with anticipation as you walk down the hall. you follow haerin’s directions and gently push open the door to find danielle tending to the same dog she had shown you earlier—jerry, who’s cuter in person. danielle is focused on the task at hand, using a stethoscope to listen to jerry's heartbeat, then checking his ears and gently inspecting his paws.

you hesitate for a moment before knocking softly on the door. danielle doesn't notice at first, but when she finally looks up and sees you, her face lights up with surprise and joy. her smile is radiant and contagious, you’re smiling too.

"y/n!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling. "you came!"

“of course, i mean, you invited me.”

“aw, how sweet of you.” she says, then mumbles a, “lay down” and “stay.” to jerry, who does just as he’s told.

she walks over to you, then grabs your wrist without warning and it makes your heart skip a beat for some reason. she leads you over to the chair in the room and sits you down.

“did i bother you and jerry?”

“no, not at all. we’re almost done actually.” danielle assures, then turns back to tend to jerry.

you watch her work her magic, finishing up the job and giving him a treat after he’s done. she pats his head and helps him off the counter, he immediately rushes over to you and jumps up to lick your cheek.

“ah–” his tail is wagging, paws on your knees, and licking you sloppily. 

“heyy jerry! i’m so sorry… he’s very excited to see you.”

“i’m glad,” you mutter through the outburst of affection. “does that mean i’m on his nice list?”

“everyone is,” she answers, watching you stand up so you can pet jerry without being bombarded with kisses. “but he’s never this excited. you’ve got some magic y/n-ie.”

the little nickname makes you smile harder, and jerry is jumping up so his paws claw at your pants more. danielle shakes her head in disapproval, but she’s still smiling as she calms him down.

you crouch to meet his level again, scratching behind his neck and petting him. you look up at danielle, who’s already looking at you.

“what breed is he?”

“burnese mountain dog, very affectionate dogs.”

jerry licks your hand, making you laugh. “that’s given.”

danielle crouches down next to you, she turns her head and it makes you nervous when your faces are so close together. she turns back to face jerry, fondly petting him. “he’s a very good boy, isn’t that right?” jerry barks in response, making her chuckle. “well, it’s time for him to rest. i gave him some medications earlier.”

“i see.”

“follow me.” she says. you nod.

you follow her into the next room, where danielle gently opens the door. jerry trots in and immediately heads to his cozy bed in the corner. danielle crouches beside him, her movements tender and reassuring. she lovingly pats him and plants a soft kiss on his head, which makes his tail wag slowly and then come to a gentle stop. with delicate, practiced motions, she scratches behind his ears and along his neck, using just the tips of her fingers. her soothing touch gradually calms him, and soon he’s lying comfortably, breathing evenly, and blinking slowly as he drifts into a state of peaceful relaxation.

her care and tenderness are genuinely admirable. the gentle, focused expression on her face as she tends to jerry mirrors the soft, loving way she interacts with him. it’s really cute. there’s a quiet grace in her movements and a warmth in her eyes that draws you in. you find yourself watching her with the same kind of admiration and affection she shows jerry, mesmerized by the serene connection between them.

she turns over to you, faintly mumbling, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“wait outside for me, would you? he’s a bit excited because you’re here. this guy here needs some rest.”

“oh– yeah, of course. sorry.”

“it’s fine, i won’t take long.”

you nod, giving her a soft smile before heading out the door.

as you take in the interior of the shelter, your gaze lingers on the wall adorned with photos of danielle, haerin, and their colleagues with the animals. 

the pictures capture moments of joy and affinity—danielle’s pretty smile beside a playful puppy, haerin laughing with a contented cat on her lap. solo shots of the animals show their distinct personalities, while group photos feature jerry with his companions, their expressions curious. there’s also some pictures that show the other employees together with the animals.

 the collection is heartwarming and conveys a sense of community and care. you find yourself smiling softly, touched by the genuine affection and dedication displayed in every frame.

the door opens in the corner of your eye, you turn and catch danielle peeking in as she closes it slowly. 

“he’s asleep now.” danielle walks over to you, head tilted up just a bit. “i’m all yours now.”

the way she words everything is dangerous, it flusters you. she smiles like she hasn’t just formed a lump in your throat, making you cough to clear it.

“is he alright?���

“just inflammation and a bit of pain, he should be fine in the morning.”

“that’s great to hear.”

“it is.”

you stare at her for a little longer, struggling to find words to say. she beats you to it.

“did hyein tag along?”

“yeah, i was afraid i’d get lost.”

danielle giggles. “aw, she’s very sweet. her and haerin are close.”

“are they?”

“they go to school together, best friends.”

“that’s lovely.”

“mhm.” danielle turns her head in the other direction, putting her hands behind her back and holding her hands together. she bites the inside of her lip, then tilts her head, urging you to follow her.

“let me show you something, it’s better than the city i bet.”

you snicker, looking at her with raised brows. “you seem pretty confident.”

“trust me.” she starts to walk down the hall, taking a turn and leading you to sliding door. she opens it, stepping outside and you follow. 

immediately, your jaw drops at the sight in front of you. it’s similar as the sight from the hotel you stayed in, giving you a view of the beach, but it’s prettier from this spot. 

“woah.”

“is it better than the city?”

“for sure.”

danielle leans against the railing, gazing out at the sky. “this is the view i get to see everyday, i love it. i’m glad you came over, i wanted to show you this.”

“thank you, really.” you walk over to lean against the railing next to her, looking out as well. “you’re really sweet, like so sweet. i feel at home, you and everyone here are really welcoming.”

“well,” danielle starts, she’s facing you now. she looks at the side of your face, tracing down each feature before continuing, “a lovely person deserves a lovely welcome.”

—

haerin locks up the shelter, pulling on the door to ensure it’s fully locked. she turns around to shoot a small smile at danielle, holding a thumbs up.

“good to go.”

“great!” 

the two walk down the road together, their route home is the same since danielle lives with haerin and her family. the two walk in silence for a bit, silence never hurts at all. they’ve been close since birth, and plus, haerin is just quiet, usually the listener. 

but this time haerin is a bit curious, looking at danielle, who’s staring up at the sky. the sun has nearly set all the way.

“what did you and y/n do?”

“hm?” danielle turns her head. “oh, she met jerry!”

“ah.” haerin hums. “you seem very interested in her.”

“just curious.”

“hyein seems to like her a lot. city girl is interesting.”

danielle snickers at the nickname. “pftt, city girl…”

“well, city girl seems to be interested in you too.”

“she’s new and hasn’t mingled with many, it’s natural for her to do that.”

haerin shakes her head, then kicks a rock on the ground. “no, somethings different. same goes for you too.”

“what?” danielle’sbrows furrow slightly in confusion, but a soft giggle escapes her lips. 

“you’re so eager to get to know her, you talked about her a lot today too. you’re not that talkative about people like that, not even with minji or hanni.”

danielle tilts her head, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and curiosity, clearly trying to make sense of the unusual comment. “right,” the giggle lingers, a gentle sound that reflects her bemusement. “i don’t know, she’s just interesting. as soon as i met her she caught my eye, when i ran into her the first time it just… felt right?” danielle shrugs, sighing in a somewhat dreamy way. “i don’t know, i just think we could be good friends. she’s really sweet, and pretty too. i wonder if all city girls are that… ethereal.”

haerin just looks at her and narrows her eyes, then shrugs it off. 

“whatever.”

–

mrs. lee gives you a day off, urging you to go out more by yourself instead of being around hyein. you hesitate when she tells you the night before, wanting nothing more than to help out with opening and share some small talk with her, but she shakes her head.

“you haven’t even gone to the beach, have you? you’re missing out… get out there. it’s prettier in the morning, you should sleep now before you miss the sunrise.”

this is how you find yourself out on a less than fifteen minute run through various neighborhoods and trails that you haven’t seen yet, and towards the sand in your vision.

the sky is still a soft gradient of dawn, with the first rays of sunlight just beginning to peek over the horizon. the sight of the sun emerging from behind the water casts a golden hue across the scene, and you can’t help but quicken your pace. your sneakers hit the sand, and you pause to slip them off, savoring the cool, grainy texture beneath your feet. you start walking down a natural trail, bordered by tufts of grass and delicate wildflowers. 

the serenity of the moment, along with the gentle morning breeze, fills you with a sense of calm. 

you can’t help but think that your mom and dad would love it here, with you, all of you together.

a sigh leaves your lips as you sit down on the sand, propping yourself up with your hands behind you and sitting with your feet out. you’re pretty far from where the waves crash and wet the sand, making sure you can’t get splashed. 

you grab the small backpack you had brought along, it only has a waterbottle, your cd player, and headphones inside. you empty it, setting the cd player on your lap, putting on the headphones, and taking a sip of water. 

jazz hums in your ear, making you smile.

yeah, your parents would love the sight.

the sun is peeking out more now, a third of it above the horizon. the rays of sun hit your face and it feels refreshing, something also clashes into you all of the sudden, making you yelp.

“jerry!” you hear from the distance.

a second later, there’s a dog licking your cheek and nuzzling itself into you, clearly excited to have run into you. you turn and catch jerry stepping back, looking at you with eager eyes and a wagging tail. you can’t help but laugh, reaching over to pet her.

“well look who it is.” you mutter softly, “miss me that much?”

jerry barks, then you catch danielle in the distance jogging up to you too. you stare a little hard at her, she’s wearing a cropped baby tee and jean shorts. her hair is being blown in her face by the wind, so she pushes a few strands behind her ear. she looks really pretty, that’s what you notice.

“i’m sorry about that,” danielle apologizes, crouching down to affectionately scratch jerry’s ears and neck. “you, mister, need to learn some manners.” she scolds playfully, giving him a pouty, angry look. 

you can’t help but laugh. “hey, it’s a lovely surprise to see jerry, don’t be too harsh on him now…” you reach to pet him too, hand accidentally brushing against danielle’s – but who’s paying attention to that.

(you are.)

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, y/n.”

“same here – i mean, you know, seeing you.” you watch her sit down next to you on the sand, patting down on the sand to urge jerry to sit right in between you two. “mrs. lee gave me the day off, she recommended the beach in the morning.”

“she has a good eye.” danielle softly strokes jerry’s fur. “whatcha listening to?”

“chet baker, heard of him?”

“i have!” she nods. “i like a few of his songs.”

“really?”

“mhm, lovely voice, beautiful melodies.” she says, now looking at the rising sun. “can i listen with you?”

"oh! yeah, of course." you unplug your headphones and press the play button on the side of the device, upping the volume to let the melody fill the air.

danielle's ears twitch slightly as she lights up with recognition. "i know this one!"

"it's pretty popular. it was my mom’s favorite," you mumble, humming softly to the beginning of the song. the tune is gentle, slow, and oddly intimate, perfectly matching the mood of the moment.

"oh, i love this part," danielle mutters before starting to sing along softly, "wherever you are~ you’re near meeee~ you dare me to be untrueee."

you giggle softly, your lips curling into a smile as you watch her, bathed in the early morning sunlight and looking so genuinely happy.

turning back to face the view in the distance, you join in, "funny each time i fall in loveeee"

both of you face the sun, but as the last lyric of the verse plays, you coincidentally glance at each other and sing together, 

"it’s always youuu”

laughter bubbles up between you, light and giddy, warming your hearts. there's something about danielle that makes you feel relaxed and content. you stop giggling for a moment to simply smile at her, and she mirrors your expression, both of you basking in the shared joy of the moment. you wonder how long a human can go without their heart beating or without breathing.

“danielle,” you almost whisper, gazing softly. “you have a really lovely voice.”

“aw, don’t be silly.”

“i’m not.” you roll your eyes, looking back at the sunrise. danielle continues to stare at the curve of your features. 

“you’re not bad yourself.”

“that’s a lot coming from you, thank you michael buble.” you response makes danielle laugh hard, which makes you laugh even harder, the two of you are laughing like idiots in the sand as the sun comes out into full view.

danielle’s fingers run softly over the fur on jerry’s head, his blinks get slower. you look at him adoringly, petting his back.

“how long have you known him?”

“jerry?”

“who else would i be referring to…”

“harsh.” she frowns, making you scoff playfully. “a few years – since he was a puppy. we found him as a stray, he’s been in the shelter since.”

“i see. you must love him.”

“i knew him before i graduated high school.” danielle says, then looks at jerry lovingly. “he’s basically my son.”

“that’s cute.” you mumble. “you guys are really cute.”

danielle looks up at you, and for a moment, her eyes seem to sparkle. maybe it's just a trick of the light, but there's something about her gaze. she carries a natural grace, not just because she’s breathtakingly gorgeous, but because everything about her exudes warmth and ease. with danielle, there’s no room for worry or doubt. despite only knowing her for basically two days  -- maybe less – she’s like someone you've known for years, even decades. she's sweet, kind, and caring; the latter.

it's hard to put into words, but there's something extraordinary about her. she’s just so...

“beautiful.” you didn’t mean to say that out loud, or continue to stare at her until the words processed in your head and you had turned away, flustered.

danielle looks at you in surprise, then laughs and tilts her head in confusion. “what?”

“sorry, nothing– the song–” clearing your throat, you point to the cd player. “it’s beautiful.”

“yeah.” danielle agrees, looking you in the eye.

–

you spend the rest of the day together, with danielle insisting, "you're so interesting," and expressing an urge "to get to know someone as cool as you more." 

she leads you to her favorite café by the beach, enthusiastically offering to pay for the coconut latte, which she claims is the tastiest item on the menu. trusting her judgment, you take a sip, and the flavor lives up to her hype. danielle claps her hands and beams with delight when you give her a look and sigh of satisfaction after the first sip.

as the day progresses, she continues to show you around, her excitement palpable and infectious. her genuine enthusiasm helps you feel even more at ease in this new place. you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging, all thanks to her. it’s strange, but you don’t really dwell on it. with danielle, everything just feels right.

–

you had watched the sun rise and set with danielle, spending the entire day together, though it felt like only an hour or two had passed. 

when you get back home, you flop onto your bed with a happy sigh. before you know it, someone barges into the room, then jumps and lands next to you on the bed. the mattress peaks and pushes you up with the combined force of gravity and the added weight.

you turn to see hyein looking at you with a knowing look, her brows raised and a stupid  smirk on her face. "so," she begins, her tone dripping with playful curiosity, "how was your date with danielle?" she nudges you with her elbow, clearly fishing for details. 

you sit up and look at her with a confused expression. “date? no, we just spent some time together.”

“haerin tells me it was from sunrise to sunset…” she nudges your shoulder playfully and you push her away. you can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at her antics.

"it wasn’t a date, i’ve known her for less than a week." you say. “we literally just spent the day together.”

the realization hits that you’ve never spent the day together with anyone other than your parents, even your late friends. you’ve gone hours with them and had sleepovers, but this isn’t the same.

“i bet it was a wonderful day.” hyein’s grin widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “seems like sunshine lady and city girl have hit it off.”

“w-what?” you snicker, laughing at the stupid nicknames. “sunshine–? city–? you’re genuinely a child. is that what you call us?”

“haerin made them up.”

you roll your eyes at hyein, who’s pushing you and asking for more details. her excitement is infectious, and you find yourself smiling even more, the memory of the day’s events replaying in your mind. danielle’s laughter, her genuine curiosity, the way she made everything feel so effortlessly right. as hyein continues to tease and prod for more details, you realize just how special this day has been.

danielle made time feel like nothing, which is a bit dangerous considering you don’t have a lot of time to begin with.

she had shared a lot of her likes, dislikes, life stories, and so much yet so little. you wanted to know more, you wanted her to ramble your ear off. 

something that had caught your attention was the brief mention that she lived with haerin because her parents had passed away a few years ago. it brought some sorrow to you just from learning that, but some ease because she’s similar to you.

you briefly go over everything, and lastly you tell the younger girl beside you that danielle had given you her number, making hyein squeal.

“you have mo dani’s number?”

“mo dani?”

“nickname… you’ll know later – probably. you’re still new, but everyone knows the majority of her nicknames, she has a lot– ah! that’s not important. anyways–”

you chuckle at hyein shaking your head as you pull out your phone to show her your new lockscreen. it’s a picture of you and jerry down at the beach, one danielle had taken because she thought you two had looked adorable. the moment made you all nervous and blushy, but you don’t tell hyein that.

“i just wanted her to send this picture, isn’t he cute?”

“he’s adorable! oh my gosh let me tell you this funny story…” hyein starts, and you smile to yourself knowing that you’ve managed to change the subject. you don’t know how much teasing you can take from the menace in front of you.

–

you put an effort to visit danielle at least a few times a week after work and helping hyein out with assignments. 

danielle is always happy to see you and converse while assisting her patients, you even help out with cleaning the instruments and area despite her trying to stop you. she insists it’s okay, but you’re willing to shut her down just to help.

hyein and haerin have a field day with you two everytime you’re together within their radius. they catch you two conversing, you staring at the patients – but mostly the woman helping them out – while danielle treats them, and the playful bickering and time spent together.

“they’re so cute… if only y/n wasn’t a loser.” hyein sighs, peeking at you two as you play with jerry.

“if only danielle could come to her senses.” haerin mumbles.

in return, danielle does her best to become a regular at lee’s kitchen. she’s there every other day — sometimes she’s they’re consecutively — for breakfast or even during her lunch break, though usually in the mornings because the restaurant is a bit of a walk from the shelter.

both of you spend time eating together because mrs. lee is generous, which makes you wonder if hyein had convinced her to let you slack off.

you find out that danielle has a weird, but cute obsession with carrots. each side she orders gets bigger, and she even ends up getting double the sides to the point that the amount of carrots she’s eating is more than the actual dish she orders. you marvel at this, even sending her off to work with a container of sliced carrots or giving her some each time you see her.

–

the library is a thirty minute walk from where you stay, haerin had recommended it to you because she assumed you’re “the type of person to spend time in a library for hours – willingly.” you didn’t know whether that was a compliment or not. 

it’s been over three months in the town, you’ve made friends and grown quite fond of a special, bubbly girl – but you’ve never stepped foot in the library somehow. 

walking in, you’re greeted by someone around your age, maybe a little older. she’s a girl with long dark hair, straighter than danielle’s. she’s wearing a button-up shirt and long linen pants, black frames sitting on her nose bridge.

“hi, welcome–” she pauses, looking at you closely. “–you’re… are you y/n? ah, i’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“oh, yeah. how did you–”

“danielle.” right, danielle, because it’s very normal and totally not making you overthink and flush at the thought of her talking about you to others. “she mentions you a lot, showed us a picture of you and jerry.”

“us?”

“me and our other friend hanni, she’s out and about right now though. anyways, would love to talk more, but there’s lots to do. everything is sorted out by genre, but if you need a certain book, you can look it up on the database and use the numbers to help you out,” she explains. her voice is very smooth, and she speaks with casual ease.

you nod, appreciating the information while trying to process the fact that danielle has been talking about you. 

as you wander through the shelves, you can’t help but smile at the thought of her sharing your picture with her friends. however, you’re also a bit embarrassed because she has a lot of questionable pictures of you, ones you don’t look the best in. the warmth in your cheeks persists, but it’s a comforting kind of warmth, one that makes you feel a little valued.

your fingers graze each book, you’re just browsing around without thinking much of it.

past a few bookshelves there’s a small corner where light seeps in through a big window, and it gives a good view of the buildings across from the library. you notice a small book on the ground, narrowing your eyes at it and walking over to pick it up.

‘timestamps and twinflames’ the title is intriguing, so you find the nearest stool and open the book up.

the first page goes over the background of the book, something about a survey and observed data with various pairs that have a different relation and relationship to each other. it states that it’s a collection of family members, friends, and couples.

“a twin flame is a concept in spiritual and metaphysical beliefs that refers to an intense soul connection with someone thought to be a person's other half. it is often described as a deep, powerful bond that goes beyond physical attraction and emotional compatibility. 

in this book, we’ve found puzzles with only two pieces, brought the pieces together, and found out their unique traits and connections.

along with this, we’ve noticed a trend with their date of death’s tattooed on them, including the time and placement.”

as you read through, everything reminds you of your parents.

“people run into each other for a reason, everyone’s interactions aren’t coincidences, they’re fate. not just death is calculated by the universe, but opportunities and decisions are influenced by it too in order for individuals to meet their ‘twin flame.’ 

3% of the worlds population – that have been reported and known – have met their twin flame. most of the time it’s romantic, however platonic twin flames exist as well. many of the reports have been of romantic partners, who fit seamlessly and complement each other well. 

the chances of meeting one’s twin flame is very low, and individuals only have one twin flame. some people have twin flames from across the world, so it simply cannot happen. however, there are theories that twin flames meet in other universes, and it’s often depicted in media and literature. it’s not possible to find out if this theory is true, unfortunately. 

twin flames always have the same timestamp of death, there are no exceptions to this – we’ve concluded.”

you’re deep into the book, absorbing every word. the information you've just read resonates a little too well with your parents' story. you never realized there was an entire study dedicated to this phenomenon. you had always considered your parents' meeting, falling in love, and the serendipitous timing of their lives as just a beautiful coincidence, nothing more. it was something out of a movie that you had always found crazy. but now, you see them as more than a mere coincidence; they’re a pair meticulously chosen and brought together by the universe itself – the universe. 

"most individuals report similar experiences upon first meeting their twin flame. regardless of age–from adolescents to the elderly–the accounts share strikingly consistent themes:

when twin flames meet, there's an immediate sense of familiarity, as if they've known each other before, despite never having met. this uncanny recognition often comes with a profound feeling that something has clicked into place, filling a void they never knew existed.

many describe a peculiar sensation coursing through their bodies, a blend of exhilaration and tranquility, as if time has momentarily stopped. in that instant, everything becomes more comprehensible, and the world seems to align in a way that it never has before."

“hm.” you look at the page, your fingers running along each word as you read.

you felt a “peculiar sensation” and “exhilaration and tranquility” when you met danielle. you shake your head – it can’t be, that’s ridiculous. you don’t even have enough time to live and fulfill your time with a twin flame, why would the universe throw one at you? 

the question doesn’t stop you from considering that it could be true, but maybe you’re just searching for something to make your last few months more meaningful. it’s a 3 percent chance of meeting your twin flame, and your record of being lucky isn’t the best.

(plus, your parents probably took all that luck away from you, it can’t possibly happen two generations in a row.

it doesn’t stop you from thinking that if danielle were your twin flame, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

you’d love it.)

and just as if the universe had alerted danielle you had thought of her, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. you reach down to pull it out, looking at the notification from her.

[danielle]

hi!

i just got off work :-)

are you busy?

i was wondering if you wanted to grab smoothies by the beach?

if you’re not busy of course…

you smile, unlocking your phone and responding immediately.

[y/n]

i’m not busy at all!

i was just reading at the library

i met your friend minji

i’ll meet you down at the beach? down by the cafe

[danielle]

yay! 

that sounds perfect y/n-ie ;-) 

can’t wait to see you! tell me about minji when we’re together

also, jerry won’t be joining us :-( he’s a very sleepy boy today

–

danielle arrives a little later than you, you take the time to buy her a smoothie while you had waited. one lychee smoothie for you, and a mango one for her – she had mentioned how much she liked mangos, and you made sure to ask for an extra carrot in the smoothie, earning a weird look from the worker.

you sit down outside on the steps, staring out at the beach until someone creeps from behind.

“hey!” danielle greets, putting both hands on your shoulders. you turn to look at her, rolling your eyes.

“you scared the life out of me.��

“that was the plan~” she sings, putting her hand out for you to take, urging you up. “you bought the smoothies already?”

“mhm, there’s a carrot in yours too, thought you’d like it.” the way her lips curve even more answers that remark. “let’s find a spot.” you insist.

she softens her gaze before nodding, you feel your heart pound against your chest

a tank top hugs her frame perfectly, its floral pattern complementing the dark linen shorts she wears. her sandals help her walk on the sand with ease as you both stroll along the beach. her hand is still intertwined with yours, and you feel your breath hitch when her grip tightens. 

“so, how was your day?” she asks.

it’s a routine, you and danielle meeting up just because you two simply enjoy being around each other. she always asks you first, you rarely beat her to the chase.

“normal as always.”

“oh come onnn, tell me about everything.”

“it was just the usual dani.” you state, sipping on your smoothie. “we had breakfast and then um… oh, haerin’s mom came over and said hi. uhhh hyein didn’t have any homework so i went to the library, i think she’s hanging out with iroha or something. i met your friend minji, she tells me that my name is in your mouth…” you look at her with raised brows, expecting an answer.

“i– you know…” she looks down at the ground, kicking the sand. “we spend a lot of time together – i like spending time with you. of course i’m going to tell my friends about you silly… anyways, what did you do at the library? did you hang with minji?”

shaking your head, you respond, “no, she was busy. i read this book though, almost two hours passed… i was so into it.”

“what a lovely book… you have to show it to me sometime! we can even visit minji together!”

you grin at the thought, you’d do anything if she were there with you.

“yeah, that would be great. also, the book kind of had me thinking…” you stop in your place, looking at her. 

danielle stops too, then looks at you with a tilted head. “yeah?”

“do you think soulmates– well, something more than that.”

“like what?”

“twin flames.” you mutter, then turn to look at the sea. “do you think they’re real?”

her features deepen with skepticism. “what?”

“like, i don’t know. i was reading the book and it was talking about people who were like, perfect for each other. you know how everyone has a destined death date? the book was talking about how everyone also has a destined person.” you explain, then lead her over to a nearby bench. 

she sits down next to you, thinking to herself. “i’ve only seen that in movies, do you think they’re real?”

“i think my parents were twin flames.”

“is that so…”

“yeah, “ you mumble, taking a sip of your smoothie. “i told you that they had the same date of death right? well the book was saying that twin flames are like that. and plus, everything in the book i read resonated with them. i think they’re real.”

danielle, stares at you for a moment. you’re leaned against the bench and staring closely at the ocean. 

“i think that’s a beautiful concept.”

“yeah,” you look at her again. “it’s wonderful.”

you two go silent, then you ask her how her day was to clear the strange tension in the air. your upper rib stings a bit – right where your mark is – but you ignore it as danielle tells you about a patient she had to calm down, a small kitten that had scratched her.

she ends up scooting a little closer, her shoulder touching yours until she’s leaning against you.

your mark stings again until you put your arm around her, keeping her close.

–

later, when the sun is setting, both of you stand by the wet part of the sand. the waves crash onto it, wetting your feet in the process.

danielle kicks some water towards you, it splashes against your lower legs, making you groan. you splash water towards her, hitting so aggressively that water splashes above her knee and hits the edge of her shorts.

“oh it’s so on.” she says, running towards you. you start to rush away, but she manages to splash you right on the back of your thigh, making you yelp.

“hey!”

“payback!”

“you started it!”

both of you end up kicking more water at each other, shouting and laughing in the process. she runs away to tie her hair up, then rushes back and leaps onto you, grabbing hold of your arm. she pulls you deeper into the water, which rises from your ankles to your knees.

“hey, wait–”

“scared of the water?” danielle snickers, her playful brown eyes sparkling and her teeth glowing in a wide smile.

you groan, shaking your head. “oh, shut up.”

the whole ordeal escalates as she uses her hands to splash water onto you, soaking your shorts and the bottom part of your oversized t-shirt. you scowl at her, then grab her arm and push her down into the water. her surprised laugh turns into a delighted squeal as she tumbles into the waves. she pulls you down with her and now both of you drenched but grinning from ear to ear. 

you lift yourself out of the water, shaking your head and splashing her with droplets flying from your hair. 

“now we’re even,” danielle says, wiping water off her face.

“absolutely not.” 

you splash her again, and she yelps, then laughs. she stands up and backs away from you. you're watching her happily, then something makes you pause. her white tank top, now soaked, clings to her skin, and you catch a glimpse of ink on her rib, the same area as your own tattoo but on the opposite side; instead, it’s on her left.

before you can process it, she interrupts your thoughts with another splash. you close your eyes and spit out the salty water, groaning before you tackle her.

you two emerge from the water and stand up, facing each other and both wiping off the salty water from your faces. you use your hand to slick your hair back, then push away a chunk of hair that clings to danielle’s cheek.

“you’re soaked.” you chuckle through a grin.

“and who’s fault is that?” she questions sarcastically.

you shrug. “technically yours.” 

she rolls her eyes at you, then does the unexpected. 

her eyes dart to your lips for a moment before she cups your cheek gently with one hand. your gaze shifts to meet hers as she steps closer, maintaining eye contact. 

“you look so cute right now…” she murmurs, brushing her thumb against the edge of your bottom lip. “can i?”

your stomach tightens, and your heart feels like it's being squeezed as if it were one of the pet toys danielle uses to calm her patients down. unable to form a coherent response, you nod and hum, “mhm.”

danielle smiles softly, and suddenly, everything feels right. she wraps her arms around your neck, leaning in and tilting her head. you close your eyes, feeling her lips press against yours.

it's a little salty, a given considering you’ve both been fighting in the ocean. but still, it’s warm and wonderful, and you feel like you might melt until you’re one with the water beneath you. she pulls back for a second, her eyes still closed and her lips ghosting over yours. then she kisses you again, and it feels like you've been hit by a tidal wave.

your hands move to her waist, pushing her closer.

she pulls away and looks at you, your faces a few inches apart.

“i like you a lot y/n.” she confesses, playing with a strand of your wet hair. “i really do.”

it hasn’t really hit you in the past, you never thought about it that hard. being around danielle made you giddy and carefree, plus she’s the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen, you’ve thought that since you first laid eyes on her. you don’t need a second to think or clarify in your mind that– 

“me too.” you practically breathe out, looking at her lovingly. 

“i’m glad.” she says, then kisses you again. your hand brushes against her tattoo without you knowing and she shivers, pulling away. “it’s kind of cold, and late.” she mumbles, “we should head back–”

you cut her off with another kiss, then part with a smile. 

“yeah.”

–

hyein is wiping the tables, then hears the bell jingle. “we’re closed! come back tomorrow!” she says nicely without looking up.

“it’s me.” you say quietly.

she looks up, brows furrowing when she looks at your wet shirt and damp hair. “what happened to you?” she asks, “my god, wait here, let me get a towel.”

when she’s back with a gray towel in her hand, you put it around you and sigh happily, leaning against the wall. hyein looks at you with a weird expression, almost like you’re an idiot.

“what’s up with you?”

“i just kissed dani.” you say it like it’s unbelievable, maybe because it isn;t. “hyein i just kissed danielle marsh.”

hyein’s jaw drops, she walks over to you and puts her hands on your shoulder, shaking you. “did you really?” she questions, baffled. “don’t mess around with me!”

“i’m not.” you sigh, smiling to yourself. “i’m gonna shower.”

she groans, “hey! don’t just–”

you walk away from her, smiling the whole way through and making her groan again.

–

haerin opens the door to a soaked danielle. her tank top is still sticking to her skin and her hair is still wet, but there’s a smile on her face that’s way brighter than usual.

“why are you wet?” haerin asks, letting her inside. “why didn’t you bring swimwear.”

“i just kissed y/n.” danielle giggles, “i just kissed–” she puts a hand on haerin’s shoulder. “--y/n.”

haerin looks at her with absolute shock evident on her face. “you what.”

“oh my god it was so perfect and even better than the movies it was so unreal and–”

“you what?!” haerin’s jaw drops, she’s more than overwhelmed. 

–

danielle greets you in the morning with a kiss on the cheek before sitting down to have breakfast with you. she looks at you much more lovingly now, since her feelings are clear to you. you smile shyly when she does it.

you lead her out of the restaurant, gently playing with her fingers as you both stand outside. small promises of seeing each other later are exchanged, and when danielle pouts, you reassure her that being apart for a few hours isn't the end of the world. to emphasize your point, you quickly peck her lips, earning a bright smile in return. 

reluctantly, she lets go of your hand and waves before starting to walk away. suddenly, she rushes back to give you one more kiss, then dashes off to make her way to work.

danielle thinks of you the whole way to work, a small smile on her lips forms and doesn’t leave.

haerin is turning on the laptops at the front desk when she hears a bright and eager “good morning!” after the door swings open. the younger girl rolls her eyes, waving at danielle.

“someones happy.”

“how could i not be? guess who i just saw–”

“y/n,” haerin groans, but grins after. “we get it, you’re in love.”

“she gave me some extra carrots, and also a small bag of cherry tomatoes~”

haerin perks up, immediately walking over to danielle and tilting her head. danielle laughs, then fishes out a ziplock bag with ten or twelve little tomatoes inside, making haerin smile happily. she picks one out, plopping it into her mouth and chewing with a satisfied look on her face.

“tell your girlfriend i said thanks.”

danielle pulls out her phone, then snaps a picture of the happy haerin in front of her. haerin looks confused, then whines when she’s shown the picture.

“aw, look at you!” danielle giggles, zooming in on haerin’s stuffed cheek. “you look like a child.”

“shut up.”

“i’ll show y/n this, she’ll pack more next time.”

haerin pouts, then turns around smiling at the thought of more snacks for her.

–

you spend the next month hanging out with danielle whenever you can – she’s your girlfriend after all the fact that she’s all yours, it makes you giddy.

you two go on a variety of dates, spend time in danielle’s room looking at her old photos and trinkets, swim at the beach, take jerry out, accompanying her at work – anything really, because anything satisfies the two of you as long as you have each other.

this time you’re in danielle’s room again, laid on her bed side ways and propping yourself up with one elbow and your face in your hands. she’s talking about a dog she had treated at work, some shih tzu who had a temper tantrum and wouldn’t stop barking at her. 

you look at her with stars in your eyes, nodding and humming along to her rambling. she’s sitting crissed cross in front of you, drying her hair with a towel and frowning at the mention that the shih tzu almost bit her.

“i’m sorry that happened dani.” you reach over to place a hand on her knee, rubbing it softly. “you dont deserve the hostility.”

“i know… ugh, anyway.” she leans over and presses a kiss on your forehead. “you should shower, use my towel.”

“okay okay.” you murmur, sitting up and leaning over to kiss her lips. you pull away and linger for a bit before asking, “haerin is alright with me staying over, right?”

“yeah, you’ve been feeding her tomato obsession, of course she is.”

you giggle, then get off the bed. “i’ll be quick.”

“okay love.” danielle says, smiling at you.

you walk down the hall and towards the bathroom with your pajamas – a t-shirt and shorts – then lock yourself inside. you smile thinking of danielle, thinking that this is the first time you’ve ever spent the night with someone you’ve liked romantically.

you look at the mirror in front of you and start to strip, taking off your shirt. you pause for a moment when you catch sight of the tattoo on your rib. it's been a while since you acknowledged it. running a finger over it, you shiver, then read the text. your eyes widen as the realization hits—you have less than three months until your time is up.

a wave of suffocation overwhelms you. you've just formed various bonds that have made you the happiest you have been since your parents passed. hyein feels like a sister to you. mrs. lee is one of the most generous and hardworking people you know—you'd spend hours and hours overtime for her if she asked. and then there's haerin, who you've built a solid friendship with and can joke around with effortlessly.

the weight of it all presses down on you, making it hard to breathe.

worst of all, you and danielle are together now. 

you've never felt so strongly for someone, anyone. sure, you loved your parents deeply and felt your heart being ripped up into shreds when they died that night, but this—this is different.

 something about danielle made you forget about the whole ‘destined death’ thing. she eased your worries and stopped your mind from spinning. she grounded you so your feet stayed down on earth instead of floating away into the space of your sorrow, and you’d bring the moon down for her on the way if she asked.

now, with less than three months left, it's all going to end. you'll lose everything and everyone you’ve built up in this town. how dumb could you be? thinking this was some stupid last resort, without considering the harm you’d cause. you'll leave everyone feeling as you did before—lost and alone. you're selfish, you're terrible. that’s all that runs in your mind.

it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, or that you’ve stood up too quickly. you grip the sides of the sink for support, breathing shakily as you stare at your reflection. the room seems to close in around you as the weight of your situation presses down, making it hard to breathe.

–

danielle has been on her phone for over thirty minutes, her eyes drifting repeatedly to the closed door, worry etched across her face. just as she considers checking on you, the door opens, and you emerge in your pajamas with wet hair. the sight of danielle's face lighting up with happiness and relief eases you instantly, as if you hadn’t just spiraled in the bathroom moments before.

her smile is a balm to your frayed nerves, and the tension in your chest loosens. you take a deep breath, grateful for the small comfort of her presence. danielle sets her phone aside and moves towards you, her concern evident.

"everything okay?" she asks softly, her eyes searching yours.

you nod, forcing a smile. "yeah."

she pulls you into a gentle hug, and you allow yourself to relax in her embrace, letting the warmth of her affection wash over you. in that moment, everything feels a little more bearable, and you cling to that feeling, hoping it can carry you until you perish.

“you took long.” danielle teases. “missed you.”

“was it that long?”

“no…” danielle mutters, putting her arms around your neck. “but i started to worry.” she adds, pouting a bit.

“i’m sorry, i was just… zoning out.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you say, then tilt your head a bit. 

danielle plays with your hair, her fingers massaging your scalp as she gazes at you lovingly. she gently rubs her thumb over your flushed skin, finding you utterly adorable. your face is warm from the hot shower, and she tiptoes to kiss you, smiling into it and humming, satisfied.

both of you stay close in that moment, lips pressing together, parting, and then reuniting. it's soft and sweet, with danielle's fingers threading through your hair and your own hand subtly tracing along her waistline.

when she finally pulls away, she bites the inside of her lip, looking at you with a fond smile. "hey… close the door?"

"hm? okay." you comply, stepping back just enough to push the door closed with your fingers.

as the door clicks shut, danielle pulls you by the wrist, her lips crashing against yours. you gasp in surprise but quickly reciprocate, eager and fervent. her hands glide up and down the base of your neck, applying just enough pressure to rile you up—successfully so.

your hand rests above her waist, and you pull her closer, bodies pressing together as your lips savor each other like you're both famished. danielle bites your bottom lip lightly, making you groan softly and part your lips.

"dani—" you breathe out, your fingers grasping at her shirt. 

she moves down to your jawline, leaving a trail of soft pecks that lead to your neck. her kisses are light, making you sigh as you shift yourselves toward her bed. you slowly maneuver yourself on top of her, your movements synchronized and unhurried, savoring every touch and kiss.

“y-you’re really eager, aren’t you?”

“i can’t help it…” she says into your skin. “you’re just so…”

she finishes attacking your neck and pulls away to meet your flustered face, smiling as she rubs your cheeks with both thumbs. the searing heat on your cheeks warms up her own skin.

“...adorable.” danielle mutters. 

“...whatever.”

your hands rest at her waist, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. you look at her, silently asking, ‘is this okay?’ her response is to gently push your hand under her shirt, guiding your fingers to brush against her warm skin. the contact makes her bite her lip, a small sigh escaping her.

slowly, you slide your hand upwards, feeling the smooth curve of her side until your fingers rest just above her ribs. as your touch hovers over the ink on her skin, she gasps softly, the sound barely audible but full of emotion. 

you pause for a moment, looking into her eyes, and see nothing but trust and desire. encouraged, you let your fingers trace the outline of her tattoo, feeling her shiver beneath your touch. her breathing quickens, and she closes her eyes, lost in the sensation.

danielle's hands find their way to your shoulders, pulling you closer. your lips meet again, more urgently this time, as if the world outside has ceased to exist. 

you begin to pepper kisses along her jawline and neck, mimicking her earlier actions. danielle giggles as you do so, her hands moving through your hair. the previous intensity between you shifts to a more playful intimacy. you kiss her repeatedly, nipping at her skin and nudging your nose against her, eliciting another small laugh and a gentle tug at your hair.

the moment is lighthearted and warm until a knock at the bedroom door startles both of you. you practically jump off her, your cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. danielle clears her throat, quickly fixing her hair before getting up to answer the door.

"j-just a second," she calls out, giving you a reassuring smile before opening the door to see who it is. she clears her throat, answering, “yes?” and patting herself down before she opens the door to meet haerin. “oh, hey.”

“can we talk?” haerin says a bit seriously, making danielle look at her closely. 

again, danielle clears her throat before turning to you. you’re avoiding any eye contact with haerin, simply shooting a thumbs up and running a hand through your hair to fix it up.

“yeah, of course.” she closes the door behind her, looking at haerin with a concerned expression. haerin looks worried, even looking at danielle with some type of pity and sadness. “is everything okay?”

“danielle, we… need to talk about– you know.” haerin mutters, pointing bashfully at danielle’s upper rib. “yeah.”

danielle tilts her head and her eyes flicker with confusion before she understands.

“oh.”

“i checked the date today,” haerin starts, looking at the ground. “you have little time, don’t you?”

“haerin, don’t worry about it.”

“it’s not just me. does y/n even know? i don’t even know when exactly, but that fact that i can predict the time is enough for me to worry. and what will you do? you and y/n? you’re going to–” haerin gulps, clenching her jaw as she tries to compose herself. tears well up in her eyes as she continues, “you’re going to be gone and… y/n doesn’t know.”

danielle looks at haerin with tears forming in her eyes as well. her bottom lip twitches looking at the younger girl before she speaks, “because i made the mistake of even hinting it, okay? look at you, and i bet minji, hanni, and hyein are stressed by it. it’s– look. i’ve been doing a great job at getting past it, okay? just… let me live the most i can.” danielle huffs, blinking and a tear falls. “i don’t have the most time anyway, not all of us are lucky enough to live past thirty.”

“dani–” haerin begins, but danielle just shakes her head, wiping her tear away. 

"stop, just stop. i don’t want to think about it." it’s selfish, danielle knows it, but something about you makes her realize how much she’s missed out on in life. loving you is something she experienced late, yet it's the best thing that’s ever happened to her. from the moment she first laid eyes on you, something clicked. 

an inexplicable urge pushed her to have breakfast with you that first time. then, she needed to see you again and again until her heart felt content and the burden of her tattoo faded away. you gave her clarity, a peace of mind she hadn’t known before. of course spending time with her friends and whatnot gave her some moments that were stress free, but she always came back home, laid in bed, and thought about her fate. however the more time she spent with you, the more the weight of her worries lifted, replaced by the lightness of your presence until it was like the whole tattoo thing didn’t exist or matter.

danielle feels a sense of urgency and desperation, knowing how fleeting these moments could be. but for now, with you by her side, everything feels right. it almost feels like you can be the one to break the whole ‘curse.’

(it’s nothing like that, just unlucky fate that danielle can’t seem to accept.)

“i’m going to go spend time with y/n.” danielle says after clearing her throat. haerin looks at her, mouth slightly open and tears practically spilling out her waterline.

–

you lay in bed with a hand on your tattoo and staring up at the ceiling. the door opens and you sit up eagerly, meeting danielle with slightly watered eyes and a tinted pink nose.

“sorry about that…” she says shyly, her lips pursing in to a smile. “haerin and i had a little um, talk.”

“are you okay?” she steps close enough for you to put a hand on her cheek and feel the moisture from the remnants of tears. “were you crying?”

“it’s nothing,” she assures, turning to kiss your hand. 

she moves to turn off the lamp on the bedside table before laying down next to you and scooting up so her head is on your shoulder. your arm finds it’s away around to push her closer and she snuggles into you. you make a move to kiss her forehead, hearing a soft hum when you keep your lips on her skin.

“hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“what would you do if you had little time to live?” you fall silent from her question, feeling your throat tighten up. 

danielle feels a hand in her hair, your finger twirls a strand of it. “what’s with the question?”

“i’m just curious.”

“well,” you start, moving over so you can turn on your side and face your grilfriend fully. “i’d move to the beach,” you put a hand on her cheek, tracing patterns onto her skin. “and find my way from there.”

“really?”

“yeah.” you nod. “my parents died at the beach actually. they thought they could beat their fate if they were the happiest people on earth.” your voice gets softer and danielle focuses on your features closely. “they didn’t beat it, but they were still the happiest people until their fate. i’d like to be like that.”

“are you happy?” danielle asks, holding your hand tightly. 

“of course i am.” your hand moves down to danielle’s shoulder and your palm rubs against it. “i think i’ve been the happiest i’ve ever been just after knowing you exist.”

“maybe i am your twin flame.” danielle jokes.

“maybe.” there’s only one way to know that, but you can’t ask to see danielle’s tattoo, because then she’d ask for yours and you couldn’t possibly show someone as lucky as her your destined date. “what would you do if you had little time?”

danielle wants to confess everything—the limited time she has left, the emotions eating her up since she found out she wouldn’t even make it to twenty. she wants to spill her heart, to tell you how she had planned to keep everyone she knew close and spend all the time she could with them. but now, all she wants is to be with you until fate decides her time is up.

but danielle doesn’t say any of that. 

instead, she cups your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin with tender care. she leans in, her breath warm against your face, and gently kisses your nose before scooting into your arms.

“i don’t know, maybe spend time with you a little more.”

–

time is running out, and you’re the only one who knows.

it’s less than three weeks until you’re gone, until you’re nothing but a body and a silent heart.

(unless something brutal happens to you, then you wouldn’t be just a body – you really hope you won’t be fated to some horror movie ending.)

you've been making a boatload of excuses, claiming you're too busy to head over to the shelter or too sick. you've even found ways to dodge dates and quality time with danielle, sometimes by mentioning hyein. and tutoring hyein is a whole other story, it’s become another casualty of your avoidance tactics, with frequent claims of not feeling well or having headaches—anything to stay cooped up in your room or sulking by the beach. you hate doing this, but you convince yourself it’ll make the inevitable separation less painful; everyone will thank you sooner or later.

in this time, you’ve burned yourself on the wok more than usual, two or three times in one workday. each time, mrs. lee hears you curse loudly. she sits you down repeatedly, her concerned eyes searching yours, asking if everything is alright. each time, you give her a shaky breath and a feeble shake of your head, unable to muster more than that.

your heart feels heavy with every excuse, every lie, and every burn. you hope that distancing yourself now will make the eventual farewell easier, but the weight of your decision only grows heavier. mrs. lee’s concern, danielle’s confusion, and hyein’s disappointment haunt you, but you push through, believing it’s for the best.

when you burn yourself three times and cut your index finger once, mrs. lee grabs you and sits you down right in the living room after work. she doesn’t bat an eye at hyein, who walks in on the scene of her grandmother standing across from you with her arms crossed, her expression a mix of anger and concern. instead, mrs. lee sends hyein to her room. surprisingly, hyein doesn’t talk back. she looks at you with worry, then slowly moves herself up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.

you lean against the counter behind you, gripping it tightly. the bandaid on your finger loosens.

"are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are you going to keep bottling it up?" mrs. lee's voice is firm but gentle.

"nothing is wrong," you respond, your voice flat and unconvincing.

mrs. lee's eyes narrow slightly, her concern deepening. "don’t lie to me. i’ve seen you struggling. you’ve been out of it and now you’re hurting yourself more. i know you, you can handle cooking the hot dishes in your sleep, so what is wrong?”

your grip on the counter tightens as you avoid her gaze. "i’m fine. really."

she steps closer, her voice softening. "i care about you. whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone. did you and danielle break up? is that what this is?”

“n-no, no. thank god no.” you feel a lump forming in your throat, but you stubbornly shake your head. "i just... i can’t talk about it."

mrs. lee sighs, her frustration evident, “no, i’m not letting you just–”

“i have less than three weeks to live.” you choke out, looking down at the ground and feeling your body go weak. the counter holds you up.

mrs. lee looks at you, utterly shocked. “what?”

“that’s it. i don’t have much time.” tears blur your vision as you look back at her, and mrs. lee looks at you with all kinds of emotion.

“are you serious?” she asks, and you nod, lifting up your shirt so that the ink on your upper rib is visible. you accidentally sob, tears falling down your cheek as mrs. lee reads the date. 

you close your eyes and turn away, unable to even look at her. a few seconds later you feel arms around your body, like someone is hugging you, and open your eyes to see her hair. she’s hugging you tight, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i’m sorry i just—”

“dear, no, no. it’s okay, it’s alright. everything is okay.”

“is it?” you ask in between a sob. “i’m so selfish…”

“everyone is when it comes to this.” she says, then turns to look at your clearly. she wipes away your tears, then places her hands on your shoulder. “my best cook has to retire soon…”

you giggle softly, her attempt at easing the tension working. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, it will all be alright.”

she hugs you again, and then you hear another sob coming from where the stairs are. hyein stands on the steps, holding the wooden railing with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“y/n,” hyein’s voice is shaky. “you’re dying soon?”

“hyein you weren’t supposed to–”

“are you really?”

you purse your lips and break away from her grandma, walking over to hug her. she hugs you back and sobs into you, her voice muffled into your shirt. i’m sorry.” you murmur, rubbing her back. “i’m really sorry, i’m so so sorry–”

“you idiot…” hyein mumbles. “is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“i’m sorry… i just didn’t want you to miss me.” 

she parts from you and punches your shoulder, then wipes away her tears and sniffles. “i’d kill you for dying just like that, now we have to spend as much time we can.”

mrs. lee nods, looking at the two of you. “i’m firing you, you need to spend the most time you can.”

“hey wait– i really like this cooking gig, please don’t do that.”

“fine, two week notice.”

you manage to giggle even in the pressure of the moment, feeling the weight of your fate pushing down on you.

“okay, okay.”

hyein starts again, asking you with a concerned face, “and what about haerin? and especially your girlfriend?”

“i–” you lower your head. “i don’t want them to pity me, i just want to spend time with them normally. can you be the one to apologize for me?”

“wow y/n… you’re a terrible person.” hyein mumbles, her eyes starting to water again. 

“i know, i’m sorry.”

she punches your shoulder again before hugging you. “i’m kidding. there’s nothing we can do, just promise me you’ll spend more time? no more saying you’re sick? maybe i’ll–” she sniffles, “--believe it on the last day if you say it though.”

you sob a little before hugging her tightly, humming in response. mrs. lee joins in and your arms wrap around both of them, all of you shedding tears.

–

haerin and danielle sit with jerry, who’s blinking slow and laying on the counter. danielle looks at him fondly, petting his fur. 

“i don’t think he has much time left.” danielle informs, rubbing by his ears.

it’s ironic and almost perfect, danielle and (practically) her own dog dying soon.

haerin frowns, looking between the two.

“will you be okay?”

danielle smiles sadly, petting under his mouth. “we’ll meet again.”

haerin hums in response, petting jerry as well. “will we?” she asks suddenly, practically under her breath.

the younger girl feels an arm around her pulling her into a side hug. haerin gulps, hugging danielle tight.

“of course.”

silence follows as the three of them sit there together, no one says anything, jerry shuffles into danielle’s hand more, and all of them try to bear the fate that waits for them. haerin pulls away, looking at danielle with watery eyes.

“will you ever tell y/n? you know, that it’s soon?”

danielle shakes her head, then softly says, “i can’t put that weight on her. if i’m going to spend time with the love of my life, i want every moment to be happy from now on.” then danielle puts her hand on haerin’s shoulder, squeezing it tight. “and you don’t need to worry about me, okay? let’s spend time being happy.”

haerin doesn’t know what she’ll do without danielle, she doesn’t know what anyone in the town could do. if the sun had ceased to exist, their little town would still be radiant and lively just because danielle had been around.

–

hyein and haerin eat lunch by the arcade they always go to. the sun is shining down on them, making haerin sweat along her hairline and hyein fan herself with a plastic plate. 

you’re gone in a week, and hyein is doing anything she can to prepare for it. she tries to keep herself  happy and uplifted by going out with haerin, but it seems like haerin is dealing with her own thing. she’s usually quiet, but right now she’s dead silent, poking at her rice bowl.

“is everything oka–” hyein pauses when she watches haerin put her face in her hands, rubbing her face and groaning as her shoulders tense up. “what happened?” hyein questions, eyes widening.

“i hate these goddamn tattoos.”

“you don’t die for another like, thirty years haerin.”

“it’s not me.”

“who?”

haerin purses her lips and looks up at hyein, who’s gazing at her worriedly. haerin shakes her head, then sighs out, “danielle.”

“you told me before, is it that soon? already?” hyein starts to panic, not only are you done for soon, but even mo dani.

“she won’t tell me the exact date, i think in a week or two or–” haerin groans, putting her head down on the table. “--i don’t know! it’s just, i… i don’t know what to do.”

hyein bites the inside of her lip and pats haerin’s head, then says, “i know how you feel.”

she hears the older girl scoff lightly, “right.”

“y/n.”

haerin lifts her head up and looks at hyein intensely, then looks at her baffled. “what?” she practically chokes out, “y/n?”

“i shouldn’t tell you, but… her and danielle, it’s heartbreaking just thinking about it.”

“hey hey,” haerin snaps her fingers twice at hyein, “y/n is dying soon? are you serious?”

“in a week – less than i think.”

haerin sits there and processes all the information she’s just received before responding again, “should we tell them?” haerin asks, then stops to rethink. “actually, let’s not.”

“what?” hyein looks at her like she’s an idiot. “why not?”

“just let them be, the mention of death might make things worse for them. have you seen them, it’s like they were made for each other. what if y/n dies before dani? or the other way around? just let it be.”

hyein contemplates, staring at haerin worriedly again.

“fine,” the younger one sighs, “okay.”

–

you have a little over forty-eight hours until your time is up. you've spent every waking moment with those you care about, keeping your routine largely unchanged.

you still help hyein after school, hanging out with her at the little comic and antique store whenever you have time. the two of you take as many pictures as you can with her grandpa's old film camera, creating memories that will last. hyein wants to keep a piece of you with her always, something to look back on when she misses you. sometimes, haerin joins you, even coming over before her shifts to spend time with you both. these moments, surrounded by the people you love, fill you with a bittersweet joy. you're cherishing every second, knowing that your time is running out, and hoping these memories will live on in the hearts of those you leave behind.

along with hyein, you spend lots of time with her grandma. the two of you talk late at night and in the mornings, mrs. lee shares more stories from her youth and memorable moments of hyein. she talks about her late husband more often, revealing how much he influenced hyein's playful personality. you still help cook for the regulars despite mrs. lee telling you to just relax, but you love what you do – serving their meals and satisfying people until your favorite face comes into view after the bell above the restaurant door jingles.

you still eat breakfast with danielle, though lately, you've been choosing to sit outside to people-watch while you both soak in the sun. sometimes, the people-watching turns into dani-watching. you find yourself trying to memorize every feature and detail of her face—from the curve of her nose to the crinkle in her eyes when an animal passes by, the small beauty marks on her cheek, and the faint freckles on her skin. 

time is running out, and you can only pray that you'll be able to carry the memory of the person you love with you even after you die. wherever you go, you want to keep danielle tattooed in your mind, every detail of her face etched into your memory.

even as you two walk along the boardwalk, your eyes are focused on danielle. she’s looking in the distance, the sun is going to set soon.

before you know it, she’s turning back to you, catching you staring.

“something on my face?”

“no, no.” you mumble, putting your hands in your pockets and smiling down at jerry, who is struggling to walk in a straight line. you smile, then admit, “i’m very fond of your face.”

danielle giggles, then locks her fingers with yours. “i feel the same way about you miss l/n.”

“i’m very glad miss marsh.”

“would love to be your mrs. someday.” danielle mutters shyly, then looks up at you and you swear her eyes are shimmering. “if you’d let me.”

your heart simultaneously flutters and cracks into a few pieces. you move her hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it and saying, “i wouldn’t want anything else but for you to be mrs. for eternity.”

“mhm, that sounds like a dream.”

the two of you walk in silence for a moment longer, comfortable beside each other with jerry’s steps getting all jumbled up. danielle smiles sadly at him, knowing he doesn’t have much time left. you look at him, then at danielle, feeling the exact same way.

danielle feels you squeeze her hand tighter, then her gaze shifts to you. you look her in the eyes for five seconds and don’t say a single thing, the only thing that registers in your mind is that she’s the person youve needed your whole life.

maybe if you had more time you’d spend every morning having breakfast with her in mrs. lee’s restaurant, and on your days off she could even take you to one of her favorite spots. if you had more time you’d spend more time tracing patterns onto her skin and leaving gentle kisses there too, and you’d give anything just to have one more day having a stupid, meaningless conversation with her too. 

she’s all that you’ve been searching for, and you don’t recall searching for anything in the first place.

“what?” she asks, “are you okay?”

“i love you so much.” you say suddenly, catching her offguard. “like, i’d look for you in a room full of hundreds of people, no doubt.”

“what’s with the sudden–” you peck her lips cutting her off and pausing her in place. “--affection…”

“i just love you, so much, always.”

“are you okay?”

“just lovesick.” you sigh, tightening your jaw. 

danielle shakes her head, looking at you confusedly but smiling regardless. her smile could be the sun and you’d still stare at it until you’re blinded for life – not that you have that much life left anyway.

“alright silly. i love you even more, you know?”

“no way.”

“i’m not going to argue with you because i’m right.” danielle chuckles, her hand moves to caress the base of your neck. “i love you forever and wherever and always.”

“likewise, but ten times more.”

“you can’t multiply infinity by ten.”

“well i just did it in my mind.”

“i’m gonna blow you up in my mind.”

“yeah but not before you think of me all lovingly.” danielle shoves your shoulder hearing the remark, you simply laugh.

–

it’s time, and you’d rather die than – well, die.

you hadn’t been able to sleep, staying up until the sun started to rise and sleep eventually took over. you made a small prayer in your head that you wouldn’t die in your sleep or due to staying up so late – or early for that matter – just so you could see everyone at least one more time.

you wake a few hours after you had passed out and the day had already gone by, it was already three hours afternoon and everyone – haerin, hyein, and mrs. lee – was looking at you worriedly as you woke up.

before you can process any of it, haerin and hyein shake you awake even more, you jolt up and almost hit your head on the bedframe.

“w-what? how long was i out, what time is it? what’s happening – am i dead?”

“y/n,” haerin says quickly, face full of worry. her brows are furrowed so deeply that more wrinkles than you can count on one hand are visible, and the rest of the bunch looks just as concerned. “it’s storming outside, it’s crazy.”

“is it?”

hyein grabs your hand, then nods. “danielle, she’s out there.”

you stand up immediately upon hearing this, eyes widening as you gasp, “what? is she crazy?”

“jerry ran out, he’s missing. we couldn’t find him and danielle went out to find him. it’s pouring, and it seems like it’ll thunder or – i don’t know, something!” haerin says hurriedly, looking at you all distressed and bother. “i don’t know where she is, i– we don’t know what to do.”

“where did you see her run off?” you ask.

“towards the beach–” hyein gets cuts off when you hug her and the other two tightly, you practically pull them into your arms, it’ll probably be the last time they’re in them anyway. hyein watches a tear flow down your cheek as well as your bottom lip trembling, looking at you worriedly. her eyes widen just as yours did when she watches you tear away and head towards the door. “--y/n, no way you’re going out in this–”

“hyein.” you’re crying, you’re crying so hard and your chest is tightening so hard that you’re terrified you might just collapse right then and there. “i don’t have much– hell, i don’t have any time left. today is the day, there’s nothing stopping me. if i die, it might as well be because i’m searching for the light of my life.”

the three look at you with tears streaming down their skin, mrs. lee sobs softly before nodding in understanding. hyein looks at you in disbelief, and haerin mirrors the younger girls expression.

you purse your lips before heading out the door, through the restaurant, and finally outside. 

it’s raining like crazy, you can barely see. there’s no way danielle went out in these conditions. 

an umbrella flies past you and you have to jump out of the way so it doesn’t hit you – there’s no way you’d let an umbrella kill you. 

you start running as fast as you can toward the beach, ignoring the slight burn of the raindrops hitting you harder now that you’re running against the flow. you run as fast as you can and ignore the burn in your legs from not warming up, the only thing in your mind is danielle. she has to be crazy.

you reach the beach in less than ten minutes, huffing like crazy as you scan the area. the rain has died down just slightly, but you’re still soaking and getting hit by droplets falling down aggressively. 

in the corner of your eye, you catch someone running along the boardwalk and hear a familiar voice calling out “jerry!”

danielle.

immediately, you run towards the sound and barely visible figure, then bump into her accdientally, making the two of you nearly trip and fall over on the ground. danielle squints her eyes at you, then widens them and yells, “y/n?”

“are you fucking crazy?” you shout, “it’s crazy out here, why would you run out like that?”

you can’t really tell in the rain, but you manage to catch how red her nose is and the slight pink in her eyes. she’s been crying.

“j-jerry, he just… he ran out. y/n, he doesn’t have much time, i– i can’t–”

the two of you turn your heads when you hear a bark in the distance, looking toward there the sound had come from and doing your best to find out what caused it. danielle starts to run towards the beach, and you immediately dash right after her, following without thinking. 

“jerry?” she calls out at the top of her lungs, running closer to where the water is. “jerry!”

in the distance, you make out a small dog like figure. it’s jerry, there’s no doubt about it. the color of the furm the snout, and the familiar bark all give it away; there’s no way it’s not jerry.

she starts to take off her shoes, and before she can dart into the water – the water the splashes against the sand roughly, the waves getting bigger and bigger – you stop her, grabbign her wrist tightly and holding her back.

“are you insane?” you question her, brows creased in disbelief, worry, and care. “you’ll drown.”

“jerry is going to die.”

“danielle, you’ll die.”

“i know.”

you can’t believe her, she’s soaked and her hair is almost covering one of her eyes. she tries to loosen the grip you have on her with her other hand, but you don’t budge. instead, you look at her, trembling.

“what do you mean ‘you know’?”

danielle shakes her head, desperately pushing you away. “let me go! please y/n, jerry is–”

“danielle what do you mean?”

the split second you loosen your grip, danielle manages to break free. she darts towards the ocean, running into the water and disappearing without giving you an explanation. 

you bite your lip, then run after her. you’re dying today anyway, and if it’s for danielle, you’d be more than happy to perish like this.

danielle is desperately swimming towards jerry, who’s already much deeper in the ocean past where most people can even swim. it’s probably meters deep, and yet, danielle is still swimming relentlessly, you follow her and manage to nearly catch up somehow, trying to stop her.

“danielle!” water fills your mouth as you call for her, she turns back to see you struggling and hesitates. “p-please–” a wave hits you and you try to fight back up, spitting out the mix of rain and salty water. “you’ll die–”

“y/n!” she yells, worriedly swimming towards you and managing to grab your hand. 

she does her best to pull you above the water, but oyu’re heavier and it almost sinks her down too. you manage to fight back up, holding onto her hand tightly as you fight for air.

“y-you’re an idiot.” you gasp, breathing in and out deeply. “you’re going to die.”

“why did you follow me?” danielle asks, doing her best to keep her head above the water. “you’ll die.”

“danielle,” you give up, letting your body slightly relax as every emotion you’ve ever felt hits you in the face. “i know. i’m dying today and if it’s for you then i’ll gladly do so.”

“what?”

“july 22nd, danielle. there’s a tattoo on my upper rib that has today’s date on it, i’m gone today, it’s inevitable.”

the rain water hits her face and makes her fight for air, but even while she does so, the shock on her face is clear as day. 

“are you serious?”

“yes! i need you to live on even if i can’t, please, just–”

she sobs, you hear her so clearly and you’re taken aback. 

“you idiot! me too.”

“what?”

“july 22nd, 2024.”  she says plainly, “on my upper left rib, y/n.”

you can’t speak – or breathe for that matter, but maybe thats just the water filling up your nose and mouth as the waves get worse. somehow, you laugh defeatedly, then smile at her. 

“we’re going to die together,” you manage to say, almost happily. “danielle, we’re–”

she silences you with a look, swimming closer until her arms wrap around you. without a word, she kisses you as if it's the last thing you'll ever do. miraculously, there's no taste of seawater—just something sweet, tender, and life-saving. the kiss is deep and enveloping, making you feel as if you're floating on air rather than nearly drowning in water. time seems to stand still as her lips convey everything words cannot, leaving you breathless and profoundly connected.

before you can fully process the moment, a wave crashes over you both. instead of fighting for air, you close your eyes tighter, wrapping your arms around danielle, holding her as if you’ll never let go. she mirrors your actions, clinging to you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. when you part for a brief second, neither of you opens your eyes, the seawater will make it feel like your pupils are burning. danielle rests her head in the crook of your neck as you two tumble int he water, the world around you dissolves, leaving just the two of you holding onto each other until everything fades into black.

...

you’re at the beach for your sixteenth birthday, somewhere warm and nice. your parents found a great deal online, the place was a four hour train ride and the views along the way were wonderful.. 

there’s no tattoo on your rib, and your parents are only absent because they’re fetching you ice cream from the hotel lobby—not because they’re gone forever. you stare out at the sea, feeling the sun kiss your features, hoping the tint on each peak of your face won’t be too harsh. you made sure to apply extra sunscreen anyway.

hugging your knees, you hum along to a chet baker song playing on your phone. suddenly, with no warning at all, your earbuds are yanked from your ears, and a dog is all over you, licking your shoulder, then your cheek, and pulling away to look at you with its tongue out and tail wagging happily.

you jump from the unexpected arrival but quickly dissolve into giggles, reaching out to pet the dog. its joyful energy is contagious, and you find yourself laughing and playing along, forgetting everything else as you bask in the simple, pure joy of the moment. 

the dog seems oddly familiar, as if you’d met it before. you shrug it off, there’s tons of dogs that look like the one in front of you.

however, there aren’t many – probably zero – people that look like the girl running up towards you, quickly moving her dog away from you and apologizing.

��i’m so sorry!” she looks about your age, plus, her voice is really nice to the ears. “jerry, you need to learn some manners!”

the dog whines, rubbing against the girls legs and hiding behind her. 

the girl is wearing a floral top and striped shorts, her hair long and flowing past her chest, moving perfectly in the breeze like a scene from a movie. her hair is dark and wavy, framing her face beautifully. she looks at you curiously, her large eyes framed by long, pretty eyelashes. words fail you, but she beats you to the punch.

"you have pretty eyes," she states, seemingly unfazed by the oddity of the situation. "have we met before?"

suddenly, you feel shy. this very pretty girl with a very sweet voice has just complimented you, and it seems like she knows you. maybe she’s the daughter of your parents’ friends, someone who’s heard of you before? you don’t really know.

you struggle to find your voice, but finally manage a response. "i– i’m sorry… i don’t think we’ve met.” as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you want to take it right back because you’re observing her a little closer, finding more details of her face that stand out and make you blush a little more and realize that she really does seem familiar. you can’t tell where you’ve seen her, but there’s a strange familiarity. 

“hm, i see.” she smiles warmly, her eyes lighting up as she puts her hand out. "i’m danielle.” she introdcuues, then points to her dog. “this is jerry.”

“my name is y/n.”

“your name is really nice.”

“yours is too.”

the two of you stare at each other, both seemingly trying to decipher the strange click you felt upon meeting. her dog, now less shy, nudges you, making you laugh and pet him adoringly.

"my dog seems to like you," danielle mumbles, "that’s odd. he’s shy with everyone but haerin..."

"i’m just as surprised as you are," you say, tilting your head away as the dog suddenly jumps up and starts to lick your collarbone. "my friend hyein is much better with animals; they love her."

"well, you must be special then."

you don't respond, instead smiling and patting down a space for this mysterious girl to sit next to you. she smiles back, then jerry sits between you two, wagging his tail and looking between you both proudly, as if this meeting were his plan all along.

...

everyone had questioned how young you two got married, but everyone who actually knew you – hyein, haerin, and everyone else you’ve mingled with closely along the way – know that the timing is more than perfect, maybe even too late. 

(hyein still scolds you for postponing your proposal because you didn’t have the guts to do it.)

you’re twenty and have been married to danielle for six months. there's a ring on your finger, and she’s your mrs., your lover, your wife—your everything. she’s the reason you’re up early on a sunday morning, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving her alone in bed. but it doesn’t matter because you’re busy doing her laundry and opening the tin of new coffee beans from australia that danielle insisted on buying at three in the morning when they were on sale.

(“they’re roasted in my hometown! please…”

“the shipping is over half of the actual tin…” you sigh, but danielle gives you puppy eyes and you give in. “fine.”

she kisses you on the lips, almost knocking you over even as you sit beside each other on the bed. “i love you.” 

it sounds like a prayer coming from her.)

the scent of fresh laundry fills the living room as you fold her bottoms and hang her clothes. suddenly, you feel arms wrapping around your waist from behind and a kiss on the nape of your neck. danielle's presence warms you, her embrace making the mundane task feel special. 

“morning,” she murmurs, her breath tickling your skin. you lean back into her, feeling the love and contentment radiate between you. the laundry can wait; in this moment, all that matters is the connection you share, the life you've built together, and the promise of many more mornings just like this.

“well good morning mrs. marsh.”

“good morning mrs. l/n.” danielle giggles into your clipped up hair, then sighs happily. “you smell like detergent, i want you.”

you let out a pftt and turn around to put your hand on her cheek and kiss her forehead. she hums and attempts to kiss your lips, but you pause her, putting a hand over her mouth.

“did you brush?”

a muffled, whiny “yes” is heard from her before she pushes her hand and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. she smells like toothpaste and lavender, you love it – you love her.

“hey sweetheart,” she starts, twirling the strand that pokes out of the claw clip. “i had the craziest dream.”

“yeah? what was it about.” you ask, then part from her to fold one of the jeans danielle had gifted you when you two were seventeen. 

“you were in it and we had matching tattoos.”

“is that so?”

she hums, then continues, “and the tattoos were on the same place – upper rib – but on opposite sides. it had the date july 22nd, 2024 inked on it. apparently that was when we died.”

“that’s odd, we got married that day.”

“that’s what i was thinking! i don’t know… it was such a weird dream.”

you stack your bottoms on top of each other and grab danielle’s hand, leading her over to the kitchen of your shared apartment. “tell me more, but first–” you grab your weighed out grinds of coffee and put them in your coffee puck. “what would you like?”

“latte with almond milk please – hot.”

“on it mrs.” you grin, then kiss her cheek before getting to work. “continue with your dream, please.”

“right.” she hops up on the counter and dangles her feet. you smile at her wavy, disheleved bedhead still present as she goes on, “we fell in love, had a dog named jerry, and then we drowned.”

you pause in your place after putting the puck in the machine and pressing ‘brew,’ then turn to face your wife with a baffled expression.

“oh.”

“i know right! and then it switched to something else where we met on the beach, your eyes were still pretty, and the same dog in the last dream made me run into you. it’s like it switched from one universe to another.”

you giggle, walking over to place your hands on the counter. she wraps her legs around your waist, then holds your face in her hands.

“that’s crazy,” you nearly whisper, starstruck. “wow.”

“i know! oh my gosh… i think those multiverse movies you’re making me watch are catching up.”

“or maybe we’re in love and meant to be in each universe…” you half-tease, but all of you hopes it’s true. “we’re like our own angsty romance movie or something.”

danielle rolls her eyes and you laugh before heading over to finish her morning coffee. she blows her drink a few times, then sips, closing her eyes, evidently satisfied with her beverage. you smile and subconsciously rub your ring with your thumb, hopping up on the counter to sit with her and dangle your feet as she leans her head on your shoulder.

you’d love to be with danielle in every universe, even if it were for a few months, years, or even days. any time with her would be a blessing.

she kisses your knuckles and it feels like you’re floating, like there’s nothing to worry about. as long as she’s beside you and in your life, whichever one that is, you know that you’ll be content regardless of any circumstance.

[mesetacadre]

One woman of thirty-six sat demurely looking at the ocean in a figured white silk gown. I postponed interviewing her, for she looked such a typical housewife that I thought her the wife of some official or engineer. When I asked her what she did, I got a shock.

“I am a gold miner,” she said, “working three hundred feet under-ground. I am a skilled worker; I operate a drill.”

“Isn’t that heavy work?” I asked.

She smiled a bit apologetically and replied that it was. “But not as heavy as the work I used to do. Under the Japanese I loaded ore and pushed the cars, working thirteen hours or more a day. Now, as pneu-matic drill operator, I work only seven hours and get very good pay.”

Lee Mai Hwa was her name. She had worked many years in the mines. But she had only been a driller for one year; under the Japanese rule women were not allowed to learn the higher skills. She was proud of her job.

“How did you get this work?” I asked. “Did you replace a man?”

“I got my job because we are expanding production and because I studied the work. Under the Japanese we had only 1,000 workers in our mine, but now we have 2,500.” Among the 2,500 workers, Lee said, there were 206 women but only two of these werdrillers. Lee Mai Hwa was the first.

Lee was proud of her wages. They are twice what her husband gets. He works for the same mine but on the surface. He sharpens drills. He makes at most 2,000 yen a month. “But I made 4,000 last month,” bragged Lee. “For women now get equal pay for equal work and my work is very skilled... I also set many records. Formerly a driller drilled one car of ore a day, but once, for a record, I drilled twenty cars in one day! It takes four and even six load-ers to load all the ore I drill.”

“You must be the head of your family,” I commented.

“That’s what my husband says,” replied the complacent Lee.

“Is he jealous?” “No, he’s proud,” she assured me.

I inquired into her standard of living. Just what can she buy with the 6,000 yen that she and her husband make?

Under the Japanese, said Lee, the food was very bad. “Now I get rationed food, 750 grams of rice a day for my ration and the same amount for my husband. We are both first category workers.” This rationed rice costs only five yen a kilo. So the basic rice food costs only 230 yen a month from the family wage of 6,000 yen.

“We have a good house now,” Lee added. “It formerly belonged to a Japanese official. It has a warmed floor.” (This is the Korean way of heating good houses.) “We have two big rooms and four closet-rooms and a little hall.”

“Did you ever have a nice silk dress like that under the Japanese?” I asked.

“Oh, never,” smiled Lee with a touch of amusement, stroking her white, silk gown.

Lee also told me about the general elections held in her town where the candidate was “a worker from our mine.” But this I have given in the chapter on government and elections.

In North Korea: First Eye-Witness Report, Anna Louise Strong, 1949

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。THE SAME — GOJO SATORU.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, recent chapter spoilers, just gojo coming home and reuniting with you :(

when gojo comes home, everything is still the same.

that picture on the wall that’s too high for you to reach is still crooked, no matter how many times you’ve asked him to fix it. the pile of shoes you keep by the door is still there for him to step over, no matter how many times you swear you’ll clean it up. that blanket on the couch is still draped messily over the cushions, no matter how many times you both agree it should be folded. and that bowl of candy on the coffee table is still filled to the brim, no matter how many times you claim you won’t keep buying sweets if he finishes them too fast.

everything is still the same, like you’ve left it all there waiting for him, hoping he’ll come home. and just like always, the way you run up to him and greet him by the door is also still the same—even though right now, your eyes are a lot more teary than usual.

“oh,” you breathe, “oh, satoru,” you say gently, like saying his name too loud will make him disappear. he pushes his blindfold up to his forehead, meeting your eyes as he’s opening his arms for you to fall into. if his eyes are a little misty too, you choose not to mention it, and he’s grateful.

“i’m home, sweetheart,” he grins, plastering that easy grin on his face. “miss me? you didn’t replace me already, did you?”

your face is buried into his chest before he can finish speaking, tackling him into a tight hug. gojo wraps his arms around you tightly, grounds himself with the weight of your arms as you clutch his shirt. you still feel the same too, still feel like that familiar warmth in his arms that feels like holding the sun, that feels like he can get too close without burning.

it’s not hard to see that you’ve missed him.

it’s been nineteen days without gojo satoru. four hundred and fifty six hours. twenty seven thousand three hundred and sixty minutes. it’s a long, agonizing period of time—one that makes you realize how accustomed you are to gojo’s presence—even when he’s not always beside you.

you’ve missed his whiny voicemails to pick up his calls in the mornings as you try to get ready. you’ve missed the bathroom mirror he manages to get completely wet when he washes his face after shaving. you’ve missed the socks he always keeps laying around the bedroom floor. you’ve missed the coffee mug he leaves for you to wash before he leaves for the day. you’ve missed the empty gallon of milk he puts back into the fridge instead of throwing away.

it’s lonely, you realize, when there are no voicemails to delete, no mirrors to wipe, no socks to pick up, no mugs to wash, no milk cartons to throw away.

you’ve missed gojo—even in the ways you swore you never would, in the ways that are imperfect, but not hard to love.

“no one can replace you,” you say teasingly through sniffles, pretending you haven’t stained his shirt with a wet spot, “you’re the only person who could be this big of a headache.”

“i’m the only person who could be this handsome too,” he insists, squeezing you tighter.

“don’t know about that one.”

“c’mon, just look at me,” he whines, squeezing your hips with his hands. you’ve missed them, missed the way you fit in between them, missed the way they find your body for a touch, even if it’s quick. “i’m the cutest.”

you pull away enough to cup his cheeks, pressing your forehead to his as you scan over his face. you could count every lash, stare at every curve, relearn every inch of skin if you could. now that he’s here, you can.

“i’m looking,” you breathe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he closes his eyes at the feel of your lips, at the sear of your love melting through the skin and into his bones.

“like what you see?” he hums, making you chuckle as you nod.

“i suppose,” you murmur. “did you come back to me in one piece?”

“just who do you think i am,” he pouts, “course i did.”

“got all your fingers?” you raise a brow.

he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together as he hums.

“all ten,” he confirms.

“both kidneys?”

“fully functioning,” he nods, making you grin.

“you seem to have both of your lanky old legs,” you chuckle, making him gasp a dramatic hey! “got all your toes?”

“you’ll have to pay me to see those,” he wriggles his brows, making you scoff as you swat at his shoulder.

and you’ve missed him like this too—in his laughter you feel through his chest, in his dramatic pout when you playfully smack his arm, in his finger he points to his cheeks for a kiss to feel better.

something tells you he’s missed you too, if the way he keeps his arms tight around you means anything.

because what is a god without his creations? and what is gojo satoru without the gentle love he’s built with you, created carefully between rough hands and the worn out knuckles? he holds you like you’re the answer to his prayers, like he’d kneel before you if you asked him to, like he’d rebuild the gates of heaven before your feet if it meant keeping you here in his arms for a bit longer.

gojo satoru is home. nineteen long days later, he’s home. he’s back in your apartment, the one with that crooked photo and pile of shoes at the front door, the one with the blanket on the couch to hold you under as he eats the candy you keep just for him on the coffee table.

he’s home, and he thinks he’ll never spend another night without you again.

“i missed you,” you say through a watery voice. he hums, wipes your tears with delicate thumbs that trace the lingering ache away.

“yeah? how about now, still miss me now?”

he smiles when you nod, kissing between your brows and swaying your body gently.

“always miss you,” you say with a teary pout. “don’t do that again.”

“i missed you too, sweetheart. don’t worry.”

“i love you,” you say, tasting the words on your tongue after so long.

and he lets his head fall to your shoulder as he hears them, lets out a shaky breath at the way they sound when you say them like that. like you missed him. like you need him. like you can’t lose him. like he’s all you have left. like he’s your past, present, future, and everything beyond that. like he’s yours in this life and the last, and always the one that comes next.

“love you too, sweetheart,” he says against your ear, kissing your skin gently, “i’m home.”

i love him painfully

[moomine]

backwash II | daisuke

author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.

word count: 2,291

warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—

I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head. 

If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—

“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded. 

You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.

Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”

You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin. 

Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.

She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.

You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”

Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded.

“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”

“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.

“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”

“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.

“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”

Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.

“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.

Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”

You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”

“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.

From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear. 

“What are you drawing?” you questioned.

Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.

“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”

“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.

“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.

“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ‘kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.

“No expectations,” you agreed.

You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.

The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.

When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it. 

“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.

“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”

“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.

“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.

You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”

“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”

“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”

“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”

Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”

“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.

“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”

“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.