#thank you chemotherapy

[resonanteye]

you can have hope.

photos from my partner's treatment for leukemia (B-ALL ph+) and bone marrow transplant, 2018-19.

(suggested that I tag in @hopepunk-humanity so I will)

[solhunder]

If your wrist is still sore or drawing hurts, don't feel pressured to!

I will not! I very much appreciate it!! <3 It's a flexor tendon issue, and now that it's not actively Angery at me, doing things like drawing will help strengthen it again. Which is a win-win for me!

Thank you for the kind words! (っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

[buntsuki]

Hello! My name is Autumn, I go by Bun, and this is Groot! He’s my emotional support dog, he’s been by my side since he was old enough to come home! He is truly my other half, and dog soulmate. He is incredibly intelligent, with a deep and understanding soul. He’s the most unique and special creature I have ever had to pleasure of being around.

I’m a 24 year old, disabled/chronically ill woman. When Groot was younger he would lay along me in bed every night, and most of the day. Especially during my extreme endometriosis symptoms, and the hip injection hormone treatment I was finally able to have after years.

Groot started out as our family dog, he is a member of the family. A family friend rescued a dog on the side of the road while on a cross country road trip! When she found out the shelters would just put her down, she kept the dog…and surprise the dog, Missy, was pregnant! My aunt helped with the birthing of the puppies…and that’s how he came into our lives!

My parents went to visit the puppies since they wanted one. Groot first went up to my dad, and after my dad picked him up Groot started licking his face and trying to eat his beard! After my dad put him down on the floor and told my mom he liked this one…Groot went over to my mom. She was sitting on the floor, and Groot climbed up on her lap, laid on her leg and went to sleep. He chose us! We named him Groot because he was just always in the background doing his own thing, dragging water bowls around as a puppy while the other ones went wild playing!

Once Groot came home, he bonded with me the most, hiding behind me from my siblings, and laying with me for comfort. Our first night with him, we weren’t sure if he even knew what stairs were since he didn’t have them where he was born. Well low and behold that night he goes BOLTING up the stairs! He couldn’t get back down, but he’s always been a powerhouse!

Over the years Groot and I got closer, and he has become my baby. He also completely adores my fiancée, he is also her baby! He is the sweetest, deepest soul I have ever met.

At the end of August he started getting sick..well kinda. His only symptom was swollen Lymph Nodes on his neck. We called the vet, they told us to monitor it and wait a few days, it could just be a virus. So we did, the nodes changed shape and size, but didn’t go away. So we called again, got an appointment, went in, and they suspected an infection, possibly an abscess. He was given antibiotics and told to monitor. The lymph nodes went down, but again not away.

We called back, and they referred us to the specialized hospital. It was a long day, Groot got sedated, biopsies, scans, bloodwork etc. he was out on Prednisone for the time being as well as a precaution. A few days later we got the call. They found cancer cells in all the sampled lymph nodes.

We were of course devastated, but Groot is in group A for best remission odds! He didn’t have sick symptoms when diagnosed, as well as it being Type B cells instead of Type T cells. We consulted the oncologist, went over options etc. and decided on the strongest treatment. Groot is young, otherwise healthy, and has great odds for a long remission!

After his first Chemotherapy dose he went into full remission! He still needs his full treatment course, but this is such a positive start! He is still in remission, and still responding so positively to the chemo! It’s a little adventure for him, he doesn’t even know anything is wrong, as it should be!

When we were informed of his diagnosis, the woman who called told us about her dog. He was diagnosed at age five, with large cell lymphoma, b-cells. He did the strongest treatment and now he is 2 years out from his chemotherapy, and completely cancer free! Since she works there she has easier access and pricing for scans, so she does them every 3 months, full body. Not a single cancer cell! She said he did lose his hair though! With the updated chemotherapy for animals the odds are so much better, they’ve come a long way! The statistics are just so bad because…it’s expensive.

They do not make it easy, it is heart wrenching. I’ve been in a position before where we’ve had to give up an animal since we couldn’t afford the hospital bill and care. I feel for everyone who has gone through this and not been able to afford chemo. I completely understand and it is entirely different not being able to afford it, vs just not wanting to spend the money!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the stress, and emotional ups and downs experiencing this with Groot, I am financially devastated. You cannot insure a pet with a pre-condition, much like how insurance companies don’t like covering humans with pre-existing conditions. No insurance will accept an already diagnosed pet unless the pet is CURED without treatments for 180 days. Then that also falls into what their definition of cured means.

I have been emptying my life savings (saved everything from first my job, then unemployment, and the stimulus checks), I am unable to work due to Covid with my ITP (blood disorder), as well as Endometriosis, fibromyalgia, and suspected degenerative arthritis (my mom has it, it runs in our family, and I have the symptoms of it). I have also been selling my personal belongings, and doing discounted art commissions. I don’t even get to go out often, and whenever I do it’s in a N95 mask with limited crowds!

We have been applying to all the foundations that help with vet bills, but they are OVERWHELMED, have strict requirements, limited donation amounts, and extremely long waitlists. We’ve still been applying, but I’m not relying on them getting back to us…

My mom, who is also disabled, got a $1700 loan to help! It went straight to the vet, my fiancée took from her savings as well. We are both applying for and looking into loans and vet bill credit cards. This is just so hard, he had a nearly $5000 overnight hospital stay (it ended up being due to chemotherapy and steroid reactions, he’s finished the steroids now, and they’re dialing back the chemo type that caused it).

After that hospital bill I am wiped out and terrified. All the money I had earned, fundraised, was given by friends and family, it all ended up going to that hospital bill. Now I still need to pay the rest of his chemo! I need at least another $5,000 which I know is a lot! But this is a life, and this is a once in a lifetime chance where I can BUY MORE TIME with him! He isn’t suffering, no pains, and aside from the hospital stay due to raised liver enzymes he hasn’t had any chemo symptoms either!

I am so incredibly proud of him, and how brave and strong he is!

Any thoughts, well wishes, prayers, shared, donations, purchases, commissions and everything else are so incredibly appreciated! I truly don’t want to ask for money, for help, I wish I could just do this all on my own. We know in hindsight now about insurance, this is a learning experience for sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up on Groot! He is here now and thriving and I want to give him the best life that he deserves! Thank you for reading❤️

Commissions are open, all types, can find me on other socials under BunTsuki as well! Any help means the world to me, and I swear when I’m better off I will pay it forward!

[swimmingblazenut]

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Please help me 🙏😭😭

My name is Hamdi, a blood cancer patient. I need chemotherapy, medications, and painkillers. I need your support and donations on this link to save me from death and get me out of Gaza for treatment.

Here is a picture of me and my grandchildren, Mira and Hamed, in very tragic conditions. I ask you to donate and save me and my poor family. You are our only hope in these difficult circumstances.

I thank you for your support and generosity and I look forward to your donations, even if they are small, as they make a big difference in our lives and give us hope.

🍉🍉🚨🚨🇵🇸🇵🇸

[notfitforconsumption]

Dad: your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world and I love her with all my heart. Such a wonderful person who took care of me during my cancer treatments.

Also dad: but I don't wanna help her with her chronic disease, and the meds make her fat. See ya!

Also also dad: I'm back with diseases!

Also also also dad: your mom has abandoned me in my time of need.

[wafafamilygaza]

🚨 Urgent Help Needed! 🚨

Hello, my name is Wafa. My family and I are from Gaza, and we have experienced unimaginable suffering since the war began. We have been displaced five times, losing everything—our home, belongings, and even our sense of security.

The most devastating loss was my father, who passed away on 30/11/2024 🕊️💔. He was the heart of our family, a man full of love and strength. He was battling sarcoma, a painful and aggressive type of cancer. Before the war, he was receiving chemotherapy, but as the war escalated, access to medical care became impossible. We couldn’t even provide him with basic pain relief or nutritious food.

We watched helplessly as his health deteriorated day by day under inhumane conditions. Losing him has left us broken and devastated.

Now, I live with my mother, my three sisters—Nadeen, Walaa, and Liqaa—and my two brothers, Mohamed and Ali, in a tent on our own. We struggle with everything, unable to provide for ourselves or meet even the most basic needs. The tent offers little protection, and we lack access to clean water, food, and proper sanitation. Every day is a challenge just to survive, and the uncertainty of our future weighs heavily on us all.

Your support can make an enormous difference in our lives. It will help us rebuild and regain some stability after losing everything. No donation is too small—every act of kindness brings us closer to a chance for healing and survival.

Donation Link: https://gofund.me/e6d3aee2

From the depths of my heart, I thank you for your compassion and generosity.

Wafa

✅ Our Campaign ✅

🔍 Vetted by @90-ghost here

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

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Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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note. going foward, i will be tagging only interacts because i want to make sure i'm tagging active readers! so taglist may change every chapter. i'm also getting rid of the extended taglist bc it's too much work for me lol, so only 50 tags per chapter. i'd recommend subscribing to the fic on my ao3 so you can get email notifs :) but as always let me know if/when your taglist preferences change; please do not ask me/pressure me for updates or ask me when i am going to next update (read rules)

taglist is closed

[evildilf2]

Hey guys, my friend Ayiko recently got diagnosed with colon cancer and needs help paying for his cancer treatments.

“*grey freeze frame* i’m sure you’re wondering how i got here—and for those of you who don’t know, i’m Ayiko, a 22 year old queer artist and musician. I’ve always been a creative, from theatre to a film major. My dream is to keep creating, to keep telling stories, to keep sharing my art with the world and with your help i’ll be able to continue with what i love, with my passions. On the night of February the 6th, what was thought to be a routine doctor visit for severe stomach pain turned into an in-patient hospital stay. A CT-Scan revealed the source of the pain was from a rare telescoping and entanglement of the intestines, known as Intussusception. After a successful colonoscopy relieved the pain, it also revealed a lump that was removed during the procedure. Further testing by the pathology department discovered that not only was the lump cancerous but there were additional tumors that were inaccessible without open surgery. The cancer had grown into 5cm tumors and had spread to some lymph nodes. On February the 17th i went under the knife(or in this case a laser) for a robotic colectomy to remove the remaining cancer. There was very little risk in it spreading and it was one of the least aggressive cancer of its type(Neuroendocrine Tumor of the Gastrointestinal Tract). After the surgery, i will be unable to lift more than 10 lbs or walk for long periods of time, which has left me unemployed. Now in post-recovery, i gently ask the community to rally behind my family and i as we face the financial burdens of hospital bills. As a first generation immigrant i am also aware of the family back home that my parents have to look after too(in fact my father is going to visit Uganda in less than a week). That’s why we would greatly appreciate donations of any amount, as i continue my recovery and face the possibility of chemotherapy. Just sharing the link can go a long way. Thanks for reading!” -Ayiko @pretty-roach

Currently donations are at 1.2k out of a 20k goal- any & all help is appreciated, please reblog to circulate.

[daisykihannie]

hi hi my lovelies! i’m officially Cancer free after 3 long months of intensive and aggressive chemotherapy! I got the news yesterday morning that i was in remission~ I’m still feeling a bit rough from it all but there won’t be anymore poison pumped into my body so i’ll start feeling better soon!

That being said, i’m coming off my hiatus and will start accepting new requests now that i’m all caught up on old requests (except one that i’m still working on coming up with an idea for). The master list is fully updated and i updated the invisible ask post with the numbers that haven’t been picked yet.

Thank you guys for being patient and understanding these last 3 months, i lobe you guys so much for sticking around<3

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

hi! i just wanted to clog up your inbox a little to say that your books made a big impression on me as a teenager (you were one of my favourite authors for years! and i still look back at your books fondly) and that i went to watch the film of the fault in our stars as a teen freshly in remission from cancer and it made me cry, not out of plot reasons but because the film showed augustus getting the same chemotherapy that i did and i knew what the side effects were going to be, which in hindsight was either the least ideal time or most ideal time to watch that film hahaha. so thanks, for both writing a book that stuck with me (for obvious reasons perhaps) and for giving me a reason to cry in a cinema hahaha

anyway, this is a very long winded way to say i’m glad you’re back on tumblr. it’s good to see you again :)

My favorite thing to be is someone's favorite author when they are a teenager, and then for them to grow older and get into other books. They read Toni Morrison and Neil Gaiman and whoever else and they get new favorite authors!

It is hard to explain why this makes me so happy, but it's like they allowed me to have this big and important place in their lives, and hopefully I helped a little with their growing up, and now they are grown and ready for other stuff.

It's like they graduate from me! But then if I am lucky they still hold a soft spot in their hearts for me, their old alma mater. And maybe sometimes they even go back and read those books and think these are pretty good actually, and then one day give them to their own kids when their own kids are teens.

That is my very favorite thing. Thank you for choosing me as your favorite author. Thank you for graduating. Thank you for bringing your whole self to The Fault in Our Stars with such openness and generosity. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

[just-a-drawing-bean]

Please Share

Hey guys, unfortunately I am asking for any help on covering the cost of my sister's medical bill.

Recently my sister found out she has cervical cancer and is about to start treatments asap. Her workplace was kind enough to start her a gofundme for the insane medical bill that is chemotherapy and cancer treatments. I wanted to share the link around to anyone willing to pitch in.

Linked below is her gofundme

Anything helps, and if you cant donate that is totally ok! Even a reblog can help.

Any and all donations are greatly appreciated <3

Thanks you guys

[benusbanus]

Azazel got a full-body Brazilian wax

Azazel but bald

-Benusbanus

You come into my house and PEEL MY DEMON

[theoreocat]

Hi everyone,

If you’ve been following us on YouTube or Facebook you may already know this. Yesterday, I found out that Oreo has cancer in his GI tract. We went in to the vet because he hadn't pooped and threw up again pretty violently. Before heading to the vet, he made a huge stink, so when I got there I let the vet know. She palpated him and said that she still felt something in his abdomen so she decided to do an ultrasound. The ultrasound shows that he has a very large mass in his abdomen. This is what's making him sick. Many different solutions were laid on the table including palliative care with steroids or chemotherapy. The latter requiring us to see an oncologist first.

The type of cancer Oreo has is an aggressive one, which means it's fast growing. The reality of the situation is that Oreo may not have much time. We can do what we can to extend it but in order to do that, his quality of life may deteriorate dependant on the aggressivity of the treatments. It's equally possible that he may be a good candidate and treatment might be a great option. To know this, we need to see the oncologist.

I've taken an appointment with one in a week's time. It was the earliest I could get. I will have to go into Montreal for the appointment. I was told Oreo can't eat for 12 hours before the appointment as well. Pook kid. I decided to do this just to put my own mind at ease and see what cards are on the table. Depending of the oncologists outlook, I will decide what's best for him at that time.

Once again, I sincerely appreciate everyone's kind words, thoughts and prayers. I spent another $900 yesterday and if we decide to go with treatment we will be looking at thousands more. I was suggested to go directly to emergency services in Montreal as the delay time may be faster from start to finish in getting the information, however, I don't think Oreo would appreciate that. He has been through a lot in the past three weeks and I don't want to bring him to an emergency room to sit there all day and possibly have to stay there for days getting tests done. I don't know how long he has and I want him to be with us right now. He has some medicine to help with nausea as well as an appetite stimulant which we tried this morning and will soon see what results it gives.

This is all very difficult for me to process and I am doing my best. Rest assured, I will do whatever I feel is best for Oreo in the end.

Thanks for your kind support,

Tina.

[theroyalsandi]

British Royal Family - The Princess of Wales in a new picture taken by Matt Porteous this week at Windsor | June 14, 2024

A personal message from The Princess of Wales:

"I have been blown away by all the kind messages of support and encouragement over the last couple of months. It really has made the world of difference to William and me and has helped us both through some of the harder times.

I am making good progress, but as anyone going through chemotherapy will know, there are good days and bad days. On those bad days you feel weak, tired and you have to give in to your body resting. But on the good days, when you feel stronger, you want to make the most of feeling well.

My treatment is ongoing and will be for a few more months. On the days I feel well enough, it is a joy to engage with school life, spend personal time on the things that give me energy and positivity, as well as starting to do a little work from home.

I’m looking forward to attending The King’s Birthday Parade this weekend with my family and hope to join a few public engagements over the summer, but equally knowing I am not out of the woods yet.

I am learning how to be patient, especially with uncertainty. Taking each day as it comes, listening to my body, and allowing myself to take this much needed time to heal.

Thank you so much for your continued understanding, and to all of you who have so bravely shared your stories with me."

[ezrazone]

in the wake of the american election, will you choose to stand with this living palestinian family?

it is a miracle that mohamed and his family have survived. thanks to your donations, they have been able to find food and reinforce their tents. they've even been able to keep their pets alive, though illness and weather conditions make their lives all the more fragile. mohamed's family needs your support right now. abdul-rahman, sarah, and lynn are all under the age of ten. their mother -- who has been able to stay alive thanks to this fundraiser allowing her to access chemotherapy injections -- is currently in a coma. her health has deteriorated rapidly since the start of the war and her children are terrified that their mother will not survive. will you give the father of these babies something to hold onto? he needs hope for escape as he plays the role of both father and mother to his family. your donations are their direct line for survival. we know that when the border crossing opens, the window may be very short for families to actually escape into egypt. it is impossible for this family to make it out of gaza alive without your donations. while the al-manasra family’s gofundme page is paused due to a technicality, can you help get money to their fundraiser organizer’s cashapp, venmo, or paypal (for donors outside the US)?

cashapp link (for americans)

venmo link (for americans - please do not indicate anything having to do with palestine in description)

paypal link (for everyone outside US - please make sure your donation is listed as “personal” and not business)

mohamed’s fundraiser is vetted #192 here! a message from mohamed's eldest, sarah: "thank you! i love you!" @save-mohamed-family

[koyagifs]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓾𝓵𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

pairing: san x nurse!reader ft wooyoung au: strangers to lovers | nurse genre: angst with happy ending word count:13.4k synopsis: he fell first, she fell harder. warning(s): mentions of cancer, character death, grief, hospitals. author note: get your tissues, it's a long one.

San stared at the ceiling tiles, their bland uniformity etched into his memory after a year and a half of treatment. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting uneven shadows across the sterile room. He exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that had become second nature during these long, grueling sessions.

It was his last day of chemotherapy.

The thought tasted bittersweet. The end of this chapter, yes, but also the end of the routine that had strangely grounded him in the chaos of fighting for his life. A mix of relief, apprehension, and the faintest sliver of hope swirled in his chest.

He glanced down at his wrist, where the IV dripped steadily into his veins, delivering the last of the poison that was somehow saving him. His fingers tightened into a fist, the effort reminding him he was still here—still fighting.

“ doing alright there mr. choi?”

San turned his head, the soft voice pulling him out of his thoughts. The nurse was approaching with a familiar, radiant smile and a small snack in her hand. Her kindness had been a constant through the grueling months, her gentle humor and warm presence something he always looked forward to.

She set the snack down on the tray beside him, brushing her hands off casually. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled made his heart skip a beat. It was a moment—brief, almost imperceptible—but it struck him with an unexpected intensity.

And then, guilt crept in, sharp and unrelenting. He shouldn’t feel this way. He couldn’t. He had a girlfriend—a sweetheart who had stood by his side through every hospital visit, every sleepless night, every doubt and fear. She was his rock, his reason to keep fighting.

So why did he feel this flutter of something unfamiliar whenever he saw you?

San smiled softly, nodding his head as he pushed the thoughts aside. “I’m fine. How are you, Nurse Yn?”

Your name rolled off his tongue with a certain ease, one that felt too familiar for comfort. You paused in your step, turning back toward him with that radiant smile still lighting up your face.

“Me? I’m good,” you replied, leaning slightly against the edge of his chair as you folded your arms. “Though I think I’ll miss seeing you around here, Mr. Choi. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s mastered sarcasm as well as you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “It’s a talent. Comes with sitting in these chairs for too long.”

Your laugh joined his, and for a moment, the sterile hospital room felt a little brighter. But there it was again—that flutter in his chest, that traitorous feeling he couldn’t ignore.

you smiled at him sweetly, placing the snacks by his table side. “ congratulations by the way! youre last chemo today.”

San’s lips curved into a shy smile, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the thin hospital blanket. “Thanks. Feels… surreal, honestly.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure your girlfriend is ecstatic to have you cancer-free,” you teased lightly, your tone playful yet warm.

San’s smile faltered for the briefest moment, but he quickly masked it with a soft laugh. “Yeah, she is. She’s been my biggest supporter through all of this.”

Your eyes lit up, and you nodded approvingly. “She sounds like a keeper. I’m glad you had someone like that by your side.”

He forced another smile, though your words felt like a subtle jab at the guilt simmering in his chest. Of course, his girlfriend was amazing—loyal, loving, and unwavering in her support. She was everything anyone could ever hope for in a partner.

So why did his heart keep skipping a beat every time you smiled at him like that?

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “She really is.”

You didn’t seem to notice the shift in his tone as you gave him a cheerful thumbs-up. “Well, she’ll be thrilled to celebrate this milestone with you. You deserve it, San.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the table where the snack you’d brought him sat untouched.

As you turned to tend to another patient, San leaned back in his chair, staring at the same ceiling tiles that had been his constant companions for the past year and a half.

He clenched his jaw, trying to shake off the confusing thoughts. His girlfriend had stood by him through everything. He loved her. He owed her his life.

But when he caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, laughing softly with another patient, he couldn’t help but wonder why you still lingered in his mind.

The doctor shook his girlfriend’s hand firmly, offering her a kind smile before turning to San, who sat slumped in the wheelchair. The nausea was overwhelming, making every movement feel heavier than it should. He didn’t have the strength to walk out of the hospital on his own, and he hated the helplessness of it all.

He felt the jerk of the wheelchair as his girlfriend began to push him toward the exit. The muffled hum of the hospital filled his ears—voices blending together, footsteps echoing faintly, machines beeping in the distance.

And then he heard your voice.

It cut through the noise like a melody he didn’t realize he’d been straining to hear.

San turned his head, his sluggish movements betraying his exhaustion. There you were, standing a few feet away, your smile as bright as ever as you laughed with an elderly patient. You were holding their hand gently, the warmth in your touch evident even from where he sat.

It was such a simple moment, so unremarkable to anyone else. But to San, it felt like time slowed, his chest tightening in a way that had nothing to do with the lingering effects of chemo.

“San?” His girlfriend’s voice pulled him back, her tone laced with concern. “You okay?”

He blinked, tearing his gaze away from you and nodding quickly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Just… tired.”

She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s get you home.”

San leaned back in the wheelchair, closing his eyes as they moved toward the exit. But no matter how hard he tried, the sound of your laugh and the image of your radiant smile refused to leave his mind.

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Choi!”

Your voice rang out, clear and bright, cutting through the muffled haze of the hospital sounds. It echoed just enough to draw attention, and San felt his heart thump loudly in his chest.

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing back over his shoulder, his tired eyes landing on you. You were walking toward them with that same warm smile, clipboard in hand, your steps light and purposeful.

San’s girlfriend stopped pushing the wheelchair and turned to face you. “Oh, hi!” she said cheerfully, her voice tinged with gratitude. “Thank you so much for taking care of San. You’ve been such a blessing.”

You waved off the compliment modestly, laughing softly. “It’s my job, really. But seeing patients like San make it all worth it. He’s been incredible through this whole process.”

San swallowed hard, your words making something twist in his chest. He wanted to respond, to thank you properly, but the lump in his throat made it impossible to speak. Instead, he nodded slightly, offering you a small, tired smile.

“I’m so glad he’s finished,” you continued, glancing at him with a sparkle of pride in your eyes. “You’ve fought so hard, Mr. Choi. You should be really proud of yourself.”

His girlfriend beamed, squeezing his shoulder again. “I know I’m proud of him.”

San forced another smile, the warmth of her words clashing with the flutter in his chest as he looked at you. You weren’t supposed to make him feel this way, but the way you smiled, the way your voice seemed to carry so much light—it was almost impossible not to.

“Well,” you said after a moment, stepping back slightly, “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say goodbye and wish you all the best. Take care, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you,” he finally managed, his voice raspy but sincere.

You gave one last cheerful wave before turning to head back down the hall, your presence leaving a lingering warmth in the air.

As his girlfriend started pushing the wheelchair again, San leaned back, staring up at the ceiling tiles. His chest felt heavy, but his heart… his heart was still racing.

When you walked back to the nurses’ station, a small sigh escaped your lips as you set down the clipboard and started organizing the files scattered across the desk. You barely had a moment to gather your thoughts before one of your colleagues sidled up beside you, a sly grin already plastered on their face.

“Sad Mr. Lover Boy is gone, hm?” they teased, their tone dripping with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to your colleague with a faint laugh. "So not appropriate, Jen," you said, shaking your head.

Jen smirked, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. "Oh, come on. I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. Mr. Lover Boy had heart eyes for you."

Another colleague joined in, grinning. "She’s not wrong, you know. The guy practically lit up whenever you walked into the room."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands for a moment. "He’s a patient. A patient with a girlfriend, I might add. That’s the end of it."

Jen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I didn’t say you did anything wrong. But you can’t deny the connection. Even she noticed it—did you see how tight her grip was on his wheelchair?”

Your blush deepened, and you waved them off. "Alright, that’s enough gossip for today. Go do something useful!"

They laughed but eventually dispersed, leaving you alone at the station. You leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath as you stared at the hallway where you’d last seen San.

Their words swirled in your mind, unwelcome and unsettling. You told yourself it didn’t matter. San was gone, and so was the strange fluttering feeling you’d tucked away every time you saw him.

At least, that’s what you hoped.

Yn let out a sigh of relief as she finally slipped into the driver’s seat of her car. The tension from the long day began to melt away as she leaned back against the seat, letting the quiet hum of the vehicle surround her. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she reached up and pulled down the visor.

There it was—the photo she always kept tucked into the little slot. You and Wooyoung, beaming at the camera, his arm thrown casually around your shoulders. The memory of that day warmed your heart, and for a moment, the heaviness of the day’s events didn’t feel so overwhelming.

“Another day, Woo,” you murmured, your smile widening as your fingertips brushed the edge of the photo. “Another day down.”

The thought of him brought a sense of comfort, grounding you in a way nothing else could. No matter how chaotic or emotional your workday had been, Wooyoung was your constant—a reminder. Your motive to continue.

As you pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, a sigh of relief left your lips. Home. Finally. The day had been long, draining in ways you didn’t expect, and all you wanted now was to collapse onto the couch and let yourself unwind.

But just as your hand reached for the door handle, the sharp ring of your phone broke the silence, making you groan aloud. You fished it out of your bag, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debated ignoring it.

Of course, it was work. You glanced at the caller ID and let out another groan, already bracing yourself for whatever crisis couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

With a resigned sigh, you answered, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Yn, hey—it’s Jen,” came the familiar voice, slightly rushed but apologetic. “Sorry to call you so late, but we’ve got a bit of an issue.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the remnants of your energy slipping away. “What’s going on?”

“One of the patients from earlier today—Mr. Choi—he had a follow-up appointment scheduled, but there’s been a mix-up with his paperwork. The doctor’s asking if you could clarify a few things since you were the last one to update his chart.”

San. His name alone was enough to make your stomach twist, though you quickly shook it off. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I know it’s late, but it’s just a quick question. Won’t take more than a minute, I promise.”

You exhaled slowly, already unlocking the car door to grab your work bag from the passenger seat. “Alright, give me a second to find the notes. Hold on.”

As you rifled through your bag, you couldn’t help but feel a strange pang in your chest. Of all the patients they could have called you about, it had to be him.

As you rifled through your bag, flipping past loose papers and half-empty pens, you couldn’t ignore the strange pang in your chest. Of all the patients they could have called you about, it had to be him.

San.

His name lingered in your mind like an echo, stirring up a mix of emotions you weren’t sure you wanted to unpack. You tried to focus on the task at hand, pulling out the small notebook where you jotted down quick notes throughout the day.

“Got it,” you said into the phone, flipping through the pages. “What do they need to know?”

Jen hummed on the other end, her tone shifting to something a little lighter. “They’re just wondering if you remember updating his discharge instructions. The system’s showing a discrepancy, and the doc doesn’t want him leaving without proper follow-up care.”

Your brow furrowed as you scanned your notes. You could picture the moment clearly—his tired eyes, the soft thanks in his voice as you handed him the folder. “Yeah, I gave him the instructions. Everything’s in his folder. Maybe there was a system glitch?”

“Figures,” Jen muttered. “Alright, I’ll let them know. Sorry to bother you with this.”

You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment before ending the call, slipping your phone back into your bag. The day felt impossibly long as you stepped out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. With a deep breath, you walked toward your front door, fumbling for your keys.

As you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The faint scent of lavender from the diffuser greeted you, and the soft hum of the fridge in the quiet kitchen was oddly soothing.

Dropping your bag onto the nearest chair, you kicked off your shoes and let out a long sigh. The weight of the day pressed on you, but it was a relief to finally be in your own space.

You wandered to the living room, flipping on a dim lamp before collapsing onto the couch. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to shake the lingering thoughts of work—and of him.

But as much as you wanted to let it all fade, the image of San’s tired yet grateful smile flashed in your mind. You groaned softly, running a hand through your hair.

“Get a grip, Yn,” you muttered to yourself. “He’s just a patient. That’s all.”

Still, no matter how many times you told yourself that, the flutter in your chest refused to subside.

San lay sprawled on the couch, his body heavy with exhaustion. The nausea from earlier had subsided, but the lingering weariness of the day clung to him like a fog. The television flickered in front of him, playing some sitcom he wasn’t paying attention to.

The rustling sounds from the kitchen broke the stillness, his girlfriend moving about as she prepared something—tea, maybe, or a light snack. She had insisted he rest, taking over the household tasks without complaint, but San felt detached, like he was watching the scene unfold from outside himself.

His gaze stayed fixed on the screen, though his mind was far away.

The sound of your voice lingered in his memory, soft and warm, echoing with an unshakable clarity. He had tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the relief of being done with chemo and the unwavering support of his girlfriend. But no matter how much he fought it, you kept creeping back into his thoughts.

“San?”

His girlfriend’s voice snapped him out of his daze. He blinked, turning his head toward her. She stood at the edge of the couch, a steaming mug in her hands and concern etched across her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her tone gentle. “You’ve been really quiet.”

San forced a small smile, sitting up slightly. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice raspier than he intended. “Just tired, that’s all.”

She gave him a soft nod, setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of him. “That’s to be expected. It’s been a big day.”

He hummed in agreement, leaning back against the cushions as she sat down beside him. Her hand rested lightly on his knee, a gesture of comfort that he appreciated but couldn’t quite reciprocate in the way she deserved.

“That nurse—she was overly friendly, don’t you think?” his girlfriend said, her voice casual but tinged with something more as she sipped the tea she had just made.

San’s eyes opened slowly, his expression neutral as he glanced at her. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first, the words catching him off guard.

“She’s just kind,” he said after a beat, his tone even. “That’s her job.”

His girlfriend raised an eyebrow, setting the mug down on the table. “Kind, sure. But the way she was talking to you… it felt a little much, don’t you think?”

San shook his head, the weight of the conversation pressing on him. "Love, she was just doing her job," he said, his voice quieter now, trying to end the discussion before it went any further.

But his girlfriend rolled her eyes, clearly not convinced. "Tsk, but when the other nurses came in and checked by—"

"Please, Sumin," San interrupted, a bit more forcefully now. "We're supposed to be celebrating. Why are we bringing up the nurse?"

Sumin paused, taken aback by the tone in his voice. She stared at him for a moment, as though trying to read the shift in his demeanor, but after a beat, she sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"Alright, alright. We’ll drop it," she muttered, taking another sip of her tea. Her gaze softened as she watched him, noticing the way he’d suddenly withdrawn into himself. "I just... I don’t know, San. I don’t like the way she was looking at you."

San let out a long breath, running a hand over his face as he tried to calm the bubbling frustration inside. The conversation had shifted in a direction he hadn’t wanted, and the weight of it all felt heavier than he’d expected. He just wanted to relax, to unwind, but his mind kept returning to you, to the lingering impression your kindness had left on him.

Sumin huffed, clearly irritated with the tension. She stood up abruptly, her phone in hand as she moved toward the other side of the room. The air between them grew colder, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

San glanced over at her, a mix of guilt and frustration stirring in his chest. He didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to make her feel insecure or misunderstood. But something about your presence, the way you’d looked at him, kept tugging at him, and it was hard to ignore.

Sumin’s voice cut through the quiet, distant but sharp. “I’m just going to check my social media. Let me know if you need anything.” Her tone was stiff, a hint of coldness lacing her words as she sat down, her attention fully absorbed by her phone.

San didn’t reply right away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, not just between him and Sumin, but within himself. The ache in his chest, the confusion swirling in his thoughts—it was all a lot to handle, and it left him staring at the TV, the images flickering past without any real meaning.

San leaned against the shopping cart, absently pushing it forward as he followed Sumin down the aisles of the store. The soft, almost monotonous hum of the background music drifted through the air, blending with the occasional clink of other shoppers' carts.

He glanced around, half-heartedly scanning the shelves but not really seeing anything. Sumin, on the other hand, seemed fully focused on the task at hand, picking out items with a sense of purpose. Her steps were quick, her eyes scanning the shelves for whatever it was she had on her list, while San moved more slowly, trailing behind her as his thoughts wandered.

" oh? Mr. and Mrs. choi?"

San froze, his hand pausing on the shopping cart as a voice called out to them.

He looked up, immediately recognizing the voice—and the face that belonged to it. You stood a few feet away, holding a basket in your hands, a bright smile on your face as you glanced between San and Sumin. The unexpected sight of you in the store caught him off guard, sending a rush of warmth to his cheeks, despite the fact that he tried to hide it behind a neutral expression.

Sumin, ever perceptive, narrowed her eyes slightly at the sight of you, but she quickly masked any reaction, giving you a polite smile.

"Yn," San whispered under his breath, the name slipping from his lips before he could stop it. His mind was racing, and the sight of you had thrown him off balance in ways he couldn’t quite explain. The way your smile had made his heart flutter, how your presence lingered even after you had walked away—he couldn’t shake it.

Sumin’s eyes burned with a quiet but unmistakable anger as she stared at you, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She shifted her focus back to San, her expression tense as she spoke under her breath, but her eyes never left you for long.

You, sensing the shift in the air, offered a polite, friendly smile, trying to keep the interaction light. “Glad to see you up and around, Mr. Choi,” you said with a warm tone, but there was a subtle distance in your posture as you sensed the tension between them.

San felt the heat rise in his chest as he caught the brief but intense exchange. He could feel the awkwardness radiating from both Sumin and you, and he wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap without making things worse.

He glanced at Sumin, her jaw clenched as she stood rigid beside him, and then back to you, who had taken a slight step back, as if to create more space between them.

Trying to ease the growing discomfort, San cleared his throat. "Yeah, I’m just happy to be out and about," he said, forcing a lightness into his voice. "It’s been a long road, but things are getting back to normal."

You nodded, your smile never wavering. “I’m happy to hear that, Mr. Choi. You deserve a break after everything.” Your eyes flickered briefly to Sumin before returning to San, sensing the quiet tension that was beginning to hang between the three of you.

" well, san and i -"

" noona you disappeared on me!" the boy said, his voice filled with a playful tone, his small hands tugging gently at your sleeve.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart lifting at the sight of him. "Oh, hey, bud. Sorry," you said, crouching down to his level to meet his eager eyes. "I didn’t mean to leave you waiting. You ready to go?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically, his grin wide as he bounced on his feet. His presence immediately lightened the tension that had been simmering around you. You glanced back at San and Sumin, the momentary shift in attention allowing you to break the uncomfortable silence.

Sumin, however, wasn’t as quick to let go of her earlier judgment. She glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, her gaze flicking back to San. There was a strained tension between her smile and the coolness in her eyes, but she said nothing more, her focus moving to the small boy by your side.

San’s heart skipped a beat as he watched the small boy tug at your sleeve, a sudden realization making his chest tighten. The boy had called you "Ynie," which wasn’t an uncommon nickname for someone who was close to a child, but the way he’d looked up at you, with such familiarity and affection—it left San wondering.

Is he yours?

The question lingered in his mind, but the thought felt impossible to entertain. If the boy were yours, surely he would’ve called you something else, like eomma—Instead, you seemed to be nothing but a caretaker, a kind presence in the boy’s life, but nothing more.

You waved goodbye to San and his girlfriend, offering a polite smile despite the lingering tension you could feel in the air. The small boy beside you was still beaming, his energy infectious as he tugged at your hand, eager to get going.

“Let’s go, noona!” he chirped, his excitement making it easy to forget the uncomfortable encounter. You couldn’t help but smile down at him, your heart lightening at the sight of his innocence and joy.

“Alright, bud. Let’s go home,” you said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you steered him toward the checkout. You could still feel San’s gaze on you from behind, but you quickly pushed that feeling aside. There was no reason to dwell on it, no reason to let it distract you.

The boy chattered away as you moved through the aisles, his innocent questions and thoughts filling the space around you. You gave him your full attention, smiling and nodding as you helped him pick out a treat at the counter. But even as you interacted with him, your mind kept drifting back to the encounter with San—how his presence had made your heart race and how his distracted gaze had lingered on you longer than it should have.

As you arrived home, Jun's energy was practically overflowing. He raced inside ahead of you, bouncing up and down with excitement as he bolted for the door. "I’m hungry, noona! Can we have the snacks now?" he asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you followed behind, the bag of groceries hanging loosely in your hand. "Hold on there, kiddo," you said, playfully trying to catch up to him. "Let me at least get the groceries inside before we have a snack party."

Jun pouted but gave in, following you to the kitchen with his usual boundless energy. "You take too long," he teased as you set the bags on the counter.

"Patience, Jun," you teased back, starting to unpack the groceries. "You know we need to get everything ready first."

Jun crossed his arms, a mock serious expression on his face. "I was born with patience," he declared dramatically, causing you to chuckle.

You smiled, setting aside the groceries as you started to sort out the snacks he’d been asking for. " if you're anything like your father was, then absolutely not." you said, your voice light with amusement as you began to pull out the snacks he’d been eager to get his hands on.

Jun’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face as he eagerly leaned forward. "I’m nothing like appa" he protested, shaking his head dramatically.

You smiled, squatting to his level as you ruffled his hair, " weither you like it or not bud, you're exactly like your appa."

Jun’s eyes searched your face, his smile softening as the question lingered between you. "Do you think appa is proud of me?" he asked again, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.

Your heart ached at the weight of his words, the pain in his small voice that he tried so hard to hide behind that brave little smile. You kneeled down to his level, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as you spoke softly, your own heart swelling with a mix of love and sadness.

"The proudest father in the world, baby," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "Your appa would be so proud of you. Everything you do, every step you take… he’s watching over you, and I know he’s so proud of the person you're becoming."

Jun’s eyes shimmered for a moment, a mix of hope and longing in his gaze. He didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped his arms around you in a quiet hug. You held him close, your heart full of love as you gently pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"You’re everything to him," you added quietly, holding him tighter. "And I promise, he’s proud of you every day."

Jun held on for a few moments longer, his small body pressed against yours, as if seeking comfort in your words. Eventually, he pulled away slightly, wiping at his eyes before giving you a sheepish smile.

"Thanks, Ynie," he said softly, his voice returning to its usual tone, though there was a vulnerability in it that hadn’t been there before.

⋆ ˚♡｡⋆˚𐙚 flashback ~

You stood by the window, a soft smile spreading across your face as you watched Wooyoung and Jun in the backyard. The sound of their laughter filled the air, light and carefree, a beautiful reminder of how much joy they brought into each other’s lives. Wooyoung was pushing Jun on the swing, his playful voice carrying over to you.

"Higher, appa! Higher!" Jun’s excited shout made you chuckle, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of them.

Wooyoung laughed, pushing the swing higher, his grin wide as he looked up at Jun. "You sure about that, bud?" he teased, his voice full of affection. "You might fly off at this rate!"

Jun laughed even harder, his small hands gripping the chains tightly as he soared back and forth. "I’m not scared!" he shouted, his voice filled with pure joy. "I trust you, appa!"

You made your way to the screen door, opening it with your hip as you wiped your hands on the towel. The scent of dinner still lingered in the air, mixing with the fresh breeze from outside.

"Boys, dinner is done!" you called out, your voice carrying over to where Wooyoung and Jun were still playing in the backyard.

Jun’s head whipped around immediately, his eyes lighting up. "Dinner!" he shouted excitedly, and before you could even blink, he was darting toward the door.

Wooyoung turned to follow him, laughing. "Guess we’ve got a hungry one here," he teased, shaking his head. He gave Jun a playful nudge before walking toward you, his eyes filled with warmth.

You felt a warm smile tug at your lips as Wooyoung placed a soft kiss on yours, his hand brushing gently against your cheek. "Thanks for making dinner," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of affection that made your heart flutter.

"Someone has to keep this little family fed, right?"

You smiled at Wooyoung’s words as you moved toward the table. His gaze was warm, full of unspoken understanding. "Excited to tell him?" he asked, his voice soft but carrying an edge of curiosity.

You nodded, a rush of emotions stirring within you as you glanced over at Jun, who was eagerly waiting for you to sit down. There was a sense of anticipation building in your chest, the moment finally arriving where you’d share something important with both of them. Something that would change everything.

As you moved towards the chair, Wooyoung was already there, pulling it out for you with a gentle smile. "Always the gentleman," you teased lightly, settling into the chair. He grinned, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he gave you a small wink.

You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, before turning to Jun. "So, bud," you began, your voice warm yet full of meaning, "there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you."

Jun’s eyes lit up with curiosity, the playful glint in his gaze giving way to genuine attention. "What is it,noona?" he asked, his voice full of eagerness.

Just as you were about to speak, Wooyoung began to cough aggressively. Your eyes widened in panic as Wooyoung’s coughs became more violent, his hand instinctively reaching up to his chest as he gasped for air. His face turned slightly pale, and for a moment, you could feel your heart stop in your chest.

Your heart raced as you rushed over to Wooyoung, your hands trembling as you reached him. But just as you were about to help, everything seemed to blur for a moment. Wooyoung's face was contorted in pain, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and his body stiffened as though he was struggling to hold on.

"Wooyoung!" you cried out, your voice breaking with panic. The last thing wooyoung saw was you reaching out to him as Jun wails pierced the air.

" san it's so obvious you like her! Just tell me so we can get this relationship over with!" Sumin cried out.

" fine, i do sumin happy?! " San said, walking away.

Sumin scoffed, grabbing her purse with a sharp motion, her hands trembling with frustration. "You’re unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, as she stormed toward the door. She spun around just before exiting, throwing a final glance at San.

"Fine," she said, her voice cold and brittle, "if that’s how you want it, then so be it."

San stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his chest tight with anger and regret. He couldn’t believe it had come to this—everything had felt like it was falling apart, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"Goodbye, Sumin," he said, his voice quieter than he intended. "I’m sorry."

Without another word, Sumin slammed the door behind her. The sound of it echoed in the empty apartment, leaving San standing in silence, his mind racing.

He couldn’t deny the pang in his chest. He had hurt her. He knew he had. But his heart was telling him something different now. And for the first time in a long while, he was left with a deep sense of uncertainty about everything that had once felt so sure.

San stared at the phone in his hand, the hospital’s number still flashing on the screen. His fingers hovered over the call button, his heart racing with uncertainty. It hadn’t even been a full day since Sumin left, and here he was, grappling with the weight of his decisions. The tension between him and Sumin had reached its breaking point, and now, the silence that followed felt like an echo of everything he had been avoiding.

But in this moment, his mind kept drifting back to you. He had tried to ignore the way his heart raced every time you crossed his mind, the pull toward you that he could no longer push aside. He couldn’t deny it anymore. No more distractions, no more pretending.

He wasn't ready to jump straight into something new, but the thought of seeing you again, hearing your voice without the barriers of work and the hospital—it felt like a chance to breathe. A chance to find out where things could go without the weight of his past decisions holding him back.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment longer before he exhaled slowly. No hospitals, no needles. Just you and me. The thought grounded him, the promise of something simpler, something real.

With a deep breath, he pressed the call button, the sound of the phone ringing in his ear as he waited. Each passing second felt heavier than the last.

" something hospital - how can i help you?" the voice said over the line.

" can i leave a message for nurse yn?"

You stepped into the nurse's office, the familiar scent of antiseptic filling the air. Your eyes immediately went to the desk, where a note was placed neatly in the center, its presence unusual and out of place. You frowned, the confusion evident on your face as you scanned the room. No one was around—just the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Curiosity piqued, you walked over to the desk and picked up the note. It was simple, the handwriting neat and deliberate.

choi san xxx-xxx-xxxx

You stared at the note in your hand, the name Choi San and the number written underneath it standing out starkly. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a mix of surprise and confusion flood over you. The familiarity of the name sent a jolt through your chest, though you couldn’t quite place why.

" told ya~"

Jen’s teasing voice broke through the tension, and you couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit caught off guard. She handed you one of the cups of coffee with a knowing grin, as if she had seen this coming all along.

You felt a nervous chuckle escape your lips, trying to hide your embarrassment behind the steam of the coffee. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, your cheeks still warm. The note had thrown you off balance, and Jen’s teasing only made it worse.

Jen raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. “Come on, babe. The way you looked at that note, the way your face lit up when you saw his name… I’m not blind, you know.”

You sighed, taking a sip of your coffee to hide your flustered expression, but there was no escaping Jen’s sharp eye. She had always been able to read you like a book.

“I’m just… confused,” you muttered, staring at the note in your hands again. “I don’t even know why he’d send me this.”

Jen shrugged, her smile softening as she leaned against the counter. “Maybe he just wants to talk. Maybe he needs something from you. You never know what’s going on in his head.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, still unsure what to make of the situation. Your thoughts were a mix of curiosity and hesitation. You hadn’t expected to hear from him again, especially not this way.

“Do you think I should call him?” you asked, your voice quiet.

Jen took another sip of her coffee, giving you a knowing look. “If you want answers, you’ll have to find out. But don’t let him catch you off guard, okay? You deserve to know what’s going on.”

Her words hung in the air, and you nodded slowly, the decision weighing heavily on your mind.

You sat down heavily, the sticky note in one hand and your phone in the other. Your gaze flicked back to the framed picture you always turned to after long shifts—Wooyoung’s bright, carefree smile staring back at you, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had built and the love you had lost.

Your thumb hovered over the phone screen, the number scrawled on the note replaying in your mind. Choi San. The name felt heavier now, layered with the weight of questions you didn’t know how to ask.

You glanced back at Wooyoung’s photo, as if silently seeking guidance. His grin seemed as warm as ever, a comforting presence that had always grounded you. What would you say, Woo? What would you want me to do?

The thought only made your chest ache more. You had moved forward, for Jun, for yourself—but had you really opened your heart again? This note, this unexpected reach from someone you never thought would step into your life like this, was testing that resolve in ways you hadn’t prepared for.

Taking a shaky breath, you fumbled with your phone, typing in the number slowly. Your heart raced with every digit, your mind cycling through what-ifs. What if this was nothing? What if it was something? What if you weren’t ready for the answers?

You stared at the number on the screen for a long moment before pressing the call button, your breath hitching as the line began to ring.

On the third ring, the call connected. A quiet rustling came through the line before his voice filled your ear, soft and hesitant.

“Hello?” San said, his tone carrying a mix of uncertainty and warmth that sent a jolt through your chest.

Your breath hitched, the sound of his voice catching you off guard. It had been so long since you’d heard it outside the structured confines of the hospital, and yet it was unmistakably him.

“Hi… San,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to shake the nerves threatening to overwhelm you. “It’s… it’s Yn.”

There was a brief pause, but you could hear the faint exhale of relief on the other end.

“I was hoping you’d call,” he admitted quietly. “I—uh—left the note. I wasn’t sure if you’d… you know, want to.”

You blinked, gripping the phone tighter as his words settled in. “Why wouldn’t I?” you asked softly, though your heart raced at the vulnerability in his tone. “What’s going on, San?”

There was another pause, as if he were gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more tentative.

“I needed to talk to you,” he said. “Not as a patient. Just… me. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, San, I’m not sure that’s—” you began, hesitation lacing your voice.

“Please?” he interrupted, his voice gentle but filled with an urgency that tugged at your heart. “Just… hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.”

You hesitated, your gaze falling on the photo of Wooyoung again. His smile seemed to encourage you, as if silently reminding you of the strength you carried through everything.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment before responding. “Alright, San. I’ll hear you out. What’s on your mind?”

The line went silent for a second, but you could hear him exhale softly, as if the weight of your agreement gave him a sliver of relief.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone sincere. “Can we meet? Somewhere outside the hospital. I just… need to talk to you in person.”

Your grip on the phone tightened slightly. Meeting him felt like stepping into uncharted territory, but there was something in his voice—something genuine, almost vulnerable—that made it hard to say no.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Where and when?”

A pause, then San replied, “There’s a coffee shop near the park. Tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you?”

You nodded to yourself, already feeling the weight of the decision. “I’ll be there,” you said softly.

San sat at a corner table in the cozy coffee shop, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of him. The gentle hum of conversations around him and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee should have been comforting, but all he could focus on was the growing knot of nerves in his stomach.

He glanced at the time on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. You weren’t late—if anything, he’d arrived too early—but the anticipation was eating at him. His mind replayed every possible outcome of this meeting, from the worst-case scenarios to the faint glimmer of hope that you’d understand why he’d reached out.

The barista called out an order, and San glanced toward the door, half expecting to see you walk in. When you weren’t there, he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. Was this too soon? Was he crossing a line?

Yet, amidst all the doubts, the memory of your kindness kept him rooted to the spot. The way you’d looked at him, spoken to him, treated him like more than just another patient—it had stayed with him, giving him a sense of connection he hadn’t felt in a long time.

As San shifted in his seat, he spotted the same little boy from the other day, the one who had called you noona in the store. His heart skipped a beat, recognizing the familiar figure, and his eyes followed the boy as he walked in, hand in hand with you.

"Come on, sweetie, let’s sit down, and I’ll get you your drink, okay?" you said softly, your voice full of warmth and care as you guided the boy to a nearby table. He nodded eagerly, eyes wide with excitement as he followed your lead.

San’s throat tightened, his thoughts racing. Is he yours? He couldn’t help but wonder, the sight of you and the boy together stirring a whirl of emotions in his chest. The boy wasn’t calling you “eomma,” but the bond between the two of you was undeniable, and it only added to the questions swirling in his mind.

You glanced over at San, catching his gaze as you sat the boy down. There was a moment of awkwardness, a flicker of realization in your eyes as you seemed to register that he had seen you with the boy. You smiled gently, though there was a touch of hesitation behind it.

“Sorry, I hope it’s okay if he sits with us for a bit,” you said, walking back over to San’s table. " the babysitter canceled last minute."

San nodded, trying to keep his composure, but the curiosity burned in the back of his mind. “Of course, it’s fine,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual. He glanced at the boy again, then back at you. “Is… he yours?”

The boy looked up briefly at San, his eyes curious but friendly, before diving back into his coloring. You took the seat across from San, giving the boy a quick glance to ensure he was comfortable before turning your attention back to the man in front of you.

Your smile faltered for a second, but you shook your head gently. “No,” you answered, your voice calm. “He’s not mine. it's complicated."

San nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and the boy as he absorbed your words. “Complicated,” he echoed softly, his curiosity clearly piqued but restrained.

The boy seemed oblivious to the conversation, his focus entirely on the colorful swirls and shapes he was creating in his book. The sight brought a faint smile to San’s face, though his mind was racing with questions he wasn’t sure he should ask.

" i can stay here with him while you order your drink? i don't mind," San said softly.

You smiled, " thanks, i'll be quick. "

San watched as you stood up, giving him a grateful smile before heading toward the counter to place your order. Once you were out of earshot, his attention shifted to the boy, who was still engrossed in his coloring.

“Hi there,” San said softly, leaning slightly forward in his chair. “What are you working on?”

The boy glanced up, his eyes bright with curiosity. “A dragon,” he said proudly, holding up the page for San to see. The crude but colorful sketch of a dragon filled the page, its wings stretching wide and its tail curling at the bottom.

“Wow,” San said, his smile widening. “That’s a really cool dragon. What’s his name?”

The boy tapped his chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “Jun. Like me!”

San chuckled, nodding. “That’s a perfect name for a dragon. You must be pretty brave if you named him after yourself.”

Jun straightened up in his chair, puffing out his chest a little. “I’m the bravest! No dragon is scarier than me.”

“Is that so?” San replied, amused by the boy’s confidence. “Well, it looks like Jun the Dragon is lucky to have such a brave friend.”

Jun beamed at the compliment and went back to his coloring, clearly pleased. San leaned back slightly, his gaze softening as he watched the boy for a moment. There was something endearing about his energy and innocence, and it was easy to see why you cared for him so much.

When you returned, drink in hand, you caught the tail end of their interaction. “I see you two are getting along,” you said, a hint of amusement in your voice as you sat back down.

San smiled at you, his expression warm. “He’s a great kid,” he said sincerely. “And he’s got some serious dragon-drawing skills.”

Jun grinned, holding up his masterpiece for you to see. “Look, noona! hyung said it’s cool!”

You hummed in acknowledgment, smoothing Jun’s hair gently as he returned to his coloring, his small hands moving confidently over the page. Then, shifting your attention back to San, you asked softly, “Why did you want to meet today?”

San hesitated, his fingers lightly drumming on the edge of the table as he seemed to weigh his words. “I guess… I wanted to talk to you outside of the hospital,” he said finally, his voice quiet but earnest.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your gaze searching his face. “Talk about what?”

He took a breath, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before meeting yours again. “About everything,” he admitted. “About how much you helped me. How much you mattered during… everything I went through. I don’t think I ever really said thank you. Not properly.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the depth of his words. “San,” you began, shaking your head lightly, “you don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job.”

“It wasn’t just your job,” he insisted, his tone firmer now. “You made me feel like I wasn’t just a patient. Like I was still a person, even when I felt like everything else in my life was falling apart.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came. The sincerity in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes—it left you momentarily speechless.

“You didn’t give me the pity eyes that everyone else did,” he said, his voice softer now but no less heartfelt. “Like I was going to die in the next few hours. You… you made me feel normal, which I hadn’t felt since I lost my hair.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the weight of his vulnerability settling between you. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“San,” you finally said, your tone gentle. He smiled faintly, his fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the table.

" and ... i fell for you yn."

The words hung in the air, like a quiet confession that shifted the atmosphere around you. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You hadn’t expected that, not in the slightest.

“San,” you whispered, your voice softer now, a mix of surprise and something else stirring inside of you. You searched his eyes for any hint of doubt, but all you found was sincerity—raw and unguarded.

He gave a small, almost apologetic shrug, as if to make light of the weight of what he’d just said. “I know it’s probably not the right time,” he added, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, “but it’s the truth. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it without making things complicated, but…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table, the vulnerability in his eyes deepening.

You felt a lump form in your throat, unsure of how to respond. This was unexpected—more than you were prepared for. You had always been so careful, so focused on keeping things simple, especially with Jun around.

Jun, completely oblivious to the quiet tension, looked up from his coloring with a big grin. “Noona, do you think my dragon could fly?”

You chuckled softly, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “Of course it can fly, bud. Dragons can do anything.” You glanced at San, your heart still racing.

" i know , i know we barely know each other but please. I would love to get to know you," San said softly.

You took a slow breath, feeling a mix of emotions stirring inside of you. His words were sincere, and there was an earnestness in his tone that made your heart flutter, despite the hesitations you had. You hadn’t expected this from San—this openness, this vulnerability.

"I get it, San," you began, your voice gentle, "and I’m flattered. Truly. But things are complicated right now, with Jun and everything…" You trailed off, unsure of how to explain the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of something more with him, not when you were still healing from past wounds, and not when your life revolved around caring for Jun.

" and i'd love to get to know jun too," San smiled, holding his hand out.

You looked at San's outstretched hand, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and there was a warmth to his smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

Jun, who had been engrossed in his coloring, looked up at the mention of his name. His curiosity piqued, he glanced at you, then at San, before slowly nodding his head. "You wanna be my friend too?" he asked, his voice sweet and innocent.

San chuckled softly, crouching down to Jun's level. "I’d love to be your friend, Jun," he said, his voice gentle, extending his hand to him.

Jun’s eyes brightened, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he reached out, shaking San’s hand enthusiastically. "Okay! You can help me with my dragon, then!"

You smiled at the exchange, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. Watching San interact with Jun so easily, with such genuine care, made something inside of you shift, even more so than his words had. It was one thing to say he wanted to get to know you, but showing kindness to Jun, without hesitation, felt like something entirely different.

"Deal," San said, his voice light with amusement. "I’m an expert on dragons."

Jun giggled, turning back to his coloring book. "I’m gonna make him fly across the sky!"

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jun’s enthusiasm, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t expected. Maybe this could work—maybe there was something here worth exploring.

With a soft smile, you looked back at San, meeting his gaze. He smiled at you, and you swore you heart flutter.

You paced in your kitchen floor, your mind racing with thoughts. Jun’s soft humming from the table, and his grandmother beside him.

"Yn, darling, you've been pacing for hours. Come sit down, you're making me dizzy." a gentle smile on her face as she sipped her tea.

You paused, guilt flickering in your chest. "Sorry, Mrs. Jung," you muttered, leaning against the counter. Your gaze drifted to Jun, who was completely absorbed in his drawing.

"Sweetheart," Mrs. Jung began, setting her cup down on the table. " what's wrong?"

You let out a long breath, trying to gather your thoughts as you looked at Mrs. Jung, her eyes full of concern. You had always been able to talk to her, but right now, the words felt like they were stuck in your throat.

" i'm nervous. I haven't gone on a date since woo and -" your breathe hitched as Mrs. jung gave a knowing smile.

" hey bud, why don't you go and watch tv for a bit hm?" Mrs. Jung said, picking up Jun from the chair.

You watched as Mrs. Jung gently carried Jun to the living room, her movements calm and steady as she set him down with a soft pat on the head. Jun didn’t seem to notice the shift in the room as he scampered off to the TV, humming to himself as the sounds of cartoons began to fill the house.

Once they were out of earshot, Mrs. Jung returned to the kitchen, her eyes soft with understanding. "It’s normal to feel nervous, sweetheart," she said, her voice gentle but firm. " wooyoung would of wanted you to go on this date."

Your breath caught at the mention of Wooyoung’s name. It had been so long since you’d allowed yourself to think about him in such a way, and hearing his name spoken so gently from Mrs. Jung’s lips made the flood of emotions inside you hard to contain.

You exhaled shakily, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to rise. "I don’t know if I can ever be ready," you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of your heartache. "I don’t want to forget Wooyoung. It feels like… it feels like betraying him, moving on."

Mrs. Jung gave a soft, knowing smile, her eyes filled with compassion. "Darling, you're not betraying him. Loving again doesn’t erase the love you had for my son. It’s a different kind of love. It doesn’t replace what you shared, but it allows you to heal, to open up to new experiences. He would want you to be happy, to live your life fully."

You wiped at your eyes, not wanting to admit the vulnerability you were feeling. "But how do I even try? How do I know it’s right?"

" sweetheart, you'll never know. It's going to be a leap of faith."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of her words settle in your chest. A leap of faith. It sounded so simple when she said it, but the thought of trusting again—of allowing someone in, especially after all the pain—felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure of what would happen if you jumped.

"But what if I fall? What if it’s too much?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking slightly.

Mrs. Jung gave you a soft, reassuring smile, her hands resting on the counter as she spoke. "You might fall, sweetheart. But you’ll get back up. You’ll always get back up. yn, you went back to work 2 months after Wooyoung died. Honey, no one has the heart like you do."

Her words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, everything went still. You hadn’t realized how much you had buried that part of yourself, the part that had pushed through, day after day, despite the overwhelming grief. Two months. It felt like a lifetime ago, but Mrs. Jung was right. You had gotten up. You had gone back to work, to your routines, to life in a way you never thought you could. It hadn’t been easy, and some days it had felt like you were moving through everything in a haze, but you had done it.

You looked at her, blinking back the unexpected tears that had begun to gather in your eyes. "I don’t feel like I’ve done much, Mrs. Jung. I feel like I’ve just been… existing."

She shook her head, her expression gentle but firm. "Sweetheart, surviving is an achievement in itself. You kept going. You didn’t let the pain swallow you whole. That’s strength. That’s courage."

You swallowed, the tightness in your chest loosening slightly as you absorbed her words. "I didn’t feel strong, though. I still don’t always feel like I’m okay."

Mrs. Jung smiled softly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "That’s okay. Being strong doesn’t mean you always feel like you are. It’s about getting back up, even when you feel like you can’t. And, honey, you’ve done that. You’re doing that right now."

A shaky breath escaped you as you nodded, feeling the weight of everything—of the grief, of the uncertainty, of the pain—begin to settle in a different way. It wasn’t gone, but maybe it didn’t have to define everything. Maybe you didn’t have to have everything figured out right now. Maybe you just had to keep moving, one step at a time.

" and you have Jun yn. Wooyoung left Jun in your care because he knew. He knew you'll be the one to get back on your feet. "

Mrs. Jung’s gaze softened, her hands gently rubbing your back in comfort. " now, let's get you all dolled up for this date. Gotta meet the man who swoop my daughter."

The knock on the door alarmed you as you heard Jun small, ' i'll get it'.

" jun, no let grandma answer the door!" you called out,

Jun’s voice echoed from the hallway, his little feet padding quickly toward the front door. "I can do it, noona! I’ll get it!"

You rushed after him, but by the time you reached the door, Jun had already opened it wide. You froze for a moment, catching sight of the person standing there.

San stood at the threshold, looking every bit as nervous as you felt. His smile was gentle, the bouquet of flowers in his hand as he looked down at Jun.

" hey little man"

Jun looked up at San with wide, curious eyes. "Hi! You brought flowers for noona?" he asked, his excitement bubbling over.

San smiled down at him, his nerves easing a little at the boy's innocent curiosity. "Yeah, I did. I thought she might like them."

Jun nodded seriously, then gave San a big grin. "Noona loves flowers!"

You couldn’t help but smile at Jun’s straightforwardness. The tension in the air seemed to lift as San chuckled softly, ruffling Jun’s hair. "I hope so, buddy."

"Alright, go ahead, buddy. You can put them in the vase," you said, guiding Jun back inside. "Let me get the door."

As Jun scurried off to the kitchen, you turned back to San, your heart fluttering a little at the gesture. You hadn’t expected flowers, but there they were—bright and fresh, a simple but meaningful token.

San shifted on his feet, looking a little unsure but smiling nonetheless. "I know it’s a little forward, but I thought it might be a nice start."

You took a small breath and stepped forward, reaching out to accept the bouquet. "It’s perfect," you said softly, your voice warm. "Thank you, San."

"Glad you like it," he said, his eyes meeting yours with an earnestness that made your heart skip a beat.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two, the sound of Jun's giggles from the kitchen filling the space. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Come on in, I think Jun is making his special snack," you said with a small smile.

San gave a relieved chuckle and stepped inside, the warmth of his smile growing. "I’ll be glad to see what he’s cooking up."

As you led him into the living room, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Mrs. Jung coming into view as San greeted her.

Mrs. Jung smiled warmly at San as she stepped into the living room, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Hello, San. It’s nice to finally meet you," she said, her tone friendly and inviting.

San looked a little caught off guard but quickly regained his composure, offering a polite smile.

You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks at the ease with which they were talking. Mrs. Jung had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a little too soon for her to meet San. She, however, didn’t seem to mind.

"I’ve heard a lot about you," Mrs. Jung continued, winking playfully at you. "Yn talks about you often, you know."

You felt your face heat up, your hands instinctively reaching to adjust the flowers in your hands. " mrs. jung!"

She chuckled, as Jun came into view. " halmeoni, noona is going to be San hyung friend!"

Mrs. Jung raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eye as she looked at Jun. "Oh really? Is that what you think, little one?"

Jun nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. "Yup! San hyung is cool, and he’s nice to noona!" He turned to San, his eyes bright.

San chuckled softly at Jun’s enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, feeling a little lighter despite the nervous energy that had been buzzing around you since the start of the evening. It seemed like Jun had already given his seal of approval.

" you kids go have fun. Jun and I will be here," Mrs. Jung said, giving you a wink.

San smiled, " we can maybe get a snack before the movie?"

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds perfect," you said, your heart lightening at the idea of spending time with San, just the two of you.

Jun, from his spot in the living room, cheered. "Movie time! Don’t take too long, noona!" He giggled, making you laugh too.

"Don’t worry, we won’t be long," you reassured him, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. You placed a kiss on his forehead before turning back to San, your nerves replaced with a sense of calm as you took in the moment.

San smiled at you, his expression genuine and kind. "Alright, snack it is then," he said, gently taking your hand and leading you towards the door.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapped around you, but it didn’t feel cold. With San by your side, it felt like everything was in the right place. You both walked side by side, the evening stretching out ahead of you, full of possibilities.

~

You laughed at San's joke, his coat wrapped around your shoulder as he chuckled. You leaned into the warmth of his coat, feeling a little more at ease with every step. His laughter was easy and light, and it made you feel like the world had shifted just a bit, making everything feel more manageable.

" i swear, he's my little brother but man do i question if he's adopted or not," San said.

You giggled, " he sounds like a handful. Kinda like Jun"

San laughed, shaking his head. "A handful is an understatement," he said, his voice light but affectionate. "He’s always got a million ideas running through his head, and somehow, he convinces me to go along with them."

" jun is much like his father.." You said softly, looking up at the stars as San walked beside you.

San's steps slowed as he listened to your words, his eyes flicking to the stars above before he turned his attention back to you. He could hear the softness in your voice, the weight of the sentiment behind it.

" what was Jun's dad like, if you don't mind me asking?" San looked at you, watching your features to make sure you're comfortable.

You took a deep breath, pausing for a moment as you thought about how to answer. The memories of Wooyoung were still so fresh, but talking about him didn’t feel as painful as it once did. Maybe it was because San had made you feel like it was okay to share, like it was safe to open up again.

"wooyoung was full of energy, always joking around, always trying to make people laugh. He had this way of making even the hardest days feel lighter, like nothing was ever too serious when he was around. But when it came to the people he loved, he was incredibly protective. He’d do anything for them."

You smiled, remembering the little moments, the big gestures. "He was stubborn, though. Very stubborn. He always thought he knew best, even when he didn’t. But in the end, he had a heart of gold." You paused, your smile faltering just slightly. "He was the kind of person who could light up a room with just his presence, and he didn’t even have to try."

San listened intently, his expression soft and empathetic. "Sounds like he really cared about those around him."

You nodded, your chest tight as you spoke. "He did. He cared a lot. Especially about Jun. He’d always say that Jun would be his greatest legacy. That no matter what, he’d make sure Jun knew how much he was loved, even if he couldn’t be there to show him."

San gave you a knowing look, his voice gentle as he spoke. "It sounds like Wooyoung left behind a lot of love. And Jun’s lucky to have had him as his dad."

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of his words. " he is and i wouldn't have changed it for the world,"

San smiled gently, his eyes soft as he looked at you. There was a sense of admiration in his gaze, something that made you feel seen in a way that was comforting. "It’s clear how much he meant to you, and how much you mean to Jun," he said quietly, his tone sincere. "I can see why you’re such a strong person. You’ve carried so much love, and you’ve kept going for both of them."

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don’t always feel strong, but I try. For Jun, especially." You glanced over at San, the quiet support he offered making you feel more grounded. "Some days are harder than others, but I just remind myself that Wooyoung wouldn’t want us to stop living."

San's voice was gentle but firm. "And he wouldn’t want you to carry it all alone either." His gaze held yours, his words unspoken but clear. "I’m here, whenever you need someone to talk to, or even just to be there."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through you. San held his hand out for you, and without hesitation you grabbed it. San's hand was warm, his grip firm but gentle as your fingers intertwined. It felt natural, as if this simple gesture carried the reassurance you didn’t know you needed. He gave your hand a small squeeze, his smile soft as he glanced at you.

San’s gaze was soft, yet it held an intensity that made your breath catch. His hand lingered near your face, the gentle brush of his fingers against your skin sending a warmth radiating through you. The world seemed to quiet in that moment, the sounds of the city fading into the background as his eyes searched yours.

"Yn..." San’s voice was soft, almost reverent, as if your name held more weight than you realized. It wasn’t just the way he said it—it was the look in his eyes, a mixture of tenderness and vulnerability that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as you met his gaze. His hands moved gently to your waist, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. San pulled you closer, closing the space between you with an ease that felt natural, as if this moment had always been waiting to happen.

His eyes searched yours, his expression open and sincere, the question hanging delicately in the air. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice almost trembling with anticipation.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing there under the soft glow of the streetlights.

You nodded slowly, your voice failing you, but the small smile on your lips told him everything he needed to know. "Yes," you whispered, so softly it was almost carried away by the breeze.

San’s smile widened, the vulnerability in his eyes replaced by a warmth that made you feel weightless. His hands, still resting on your waist, gently guided you closer as he leaned in. His movements were slow, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed.

When his lips met yours, it was soft and tentative at first, like a question waiting to be answered. But as you leaned into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt for balance, the kiss deepened, becoming something sweeter, something filled with a quiet passion that left you breathless.

The world seemed to stand still, the noise of the city fading into nothingness. All you could feel was him—the warmth of his hands, the softness of his lips, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own. It was a kiss that felt like a promise, unspoken but deeply understood.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead resting lightly against his, San’s smile was radiant, his cheeks flushed. "I’ve been wanting to do that for so long," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed softly, your own cheeks warm as you looked up at him. "I’m glad you did," you replied, your voice full of honesty.

In that moment, everything felt right.

one year later....

Jun's laughter echoed across the backyard, his little hands gripping San’s head for balance as he perched on San's shoulders. His giggles were infectious, drawing matching smiles from you and Mrs. Jung as you watched the two from the porch.

“Higher, hyung! Higher!” Jun squealed, kicking his legs excitedly. San pretended to wobble, earning another round of delighted laughter from the boy.

"Careful now," Mrs. Jung warned lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "We don’t need a trip to the emergency room today."

San chuckled, steadying Jun with a firm grip on his legs. "Don’t worry, Mrs. Jung. I've got him."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Jun’s got you wrapped around his little finger already, doesn’t he?"

San glanced back at you, a wide grin on his face. "What can I say? The kid’s irresistible."

Jun leaned forward, his face upside down as he looked at you. "Noona! Hyung is the best! Can we keep him?"

Both you and Mrs. Jung burst into laughter at his innocent plea, while San’s face flushed slightly. He reached up to ruffle Jun's hair, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I think you’re stuck with me now, bud."

Mrs. Jung gave you a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Well, he’s certainly fitting in nicely," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you watched San and Jun together, the sight stirring something deep within you. You hummed in acknowledgment as you took a sip from your drink. Mrs. Jung brought out a piece of paper.

Your breath caught as you stared at the papers in Mrs. Jung’s hands, the weight of their significance settling over you. The edges of the document were slightly worn, as though it had been handled carefully many times before.

“Are those…?” you whispered, unable to finish the sentence, your heart pounding in your chest.

Mrs. Jung nodded, her expression tender. "Adoption papers for Jun," she confirmed softly. "With Wooyoung’s signature."

You felt your knees weaken, and you instinctively reached for the porch railing to steady yourself. Your gaze darted between the papers and Mrs. Jung’s face, searching for an explanation, even though you already knew what this meant.

" honey, he knew you would of signed these paper in a heartbeat but he also wanted Jun to have the best step father and from the looks of it, San is an amazing father towards Jun already."

Your lips quivered as Mrs. Jung’s words sank in, each one weaving into the tender ache in your heart. You looked at her, the understanding and love in her eyes making your emotions bubble up to the surface.

“He really thought of everything, didn’t he?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over at San, who was now holding Jun’s hands and spinning him around gently, their laughter blending together in perfect harmony.

Mrs. Jung smiled knowingly, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “Wooyoung loved you, sweetheart. He loved Jun. He wanted both of you to be happy, even if he couldn’t be here to see it. And I think,” she said, her voice soft but certain, “he knew that someone like San would come into your life.”

Your gaze lingered on San, watching the way he interacted with Jun—kind, patient, and full of joy. It was almost as if Wooyoung’s wishes were coming to life before your eyes.

“He’s been so good to Jun,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “And to me.”

Mrs. Jung chuckled, brushing a tear from her cheek. “It’s clear as day, Ynie. San isn’t just good to Jun. He loves you both.”

You held the papers close to your chest, the weight of them feeling lighter than before. San sensing your discomfort looked at you as he set Jun down. San’s brow furrowed slightly, concern evident in his gaze as he approached you. Jun ran off to grab his favorite toy, leaving the two of you standing together in the gentle afternoon sun.

“Hey,” San said softly, his voice steady and warm. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, though the papers pressed against your chest felt like they were carrying years of memories and emotions. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

San tilted his head, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You’ve got that look… like there’s a lot on your mind.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you as you lowered the papers, glancing at them before looking back up at him. “It’s just… a lot. Mrs. Jung gave me these.” You held the papers out, your hands trembling slightly. “They’re adoption papers for Jun. Wooyoung signed them before he… before he passed.”

San’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze flickering to the papers and then back to you. He stepped closer, his voice gentle but resolute. His smile grew as Jun came by your side - a velvet box in his hand as he handed it to San.

San knelt to Jun's level, his smile soft and full of warmth. "You sure you want to help me with this, buddy?" he asked gently, ruffling Jun's hair.

Jun nodded eagerly, his little hands clasped together as he bounced on his toes. "Uh-huh! You said it’s for noona, and I wanna help!"

You tilted your head in confusion, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of the velvet box. “San, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

San straightened, the box resting firmly in his hand as he turned to face you. His expression was open, filled with vulnerability and determination all at once. He opened the box, revealing a delicate ring that sparkled in the sunlight.

“Yn,” San began, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling in his eyes. “Meeting you and Jun has changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You’ve shown me strength, love, and what it means to truly care for someone. And Jun… he’s an amazing kid because of you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him kneel down, the moment feeling surreal.

“I don’t want to just be a part of your life,” he continued, his gaze locking onto yours. “I want to be there for every moment—the good, the bad, and everything in between. I want to be a family with you and Jun. So, Yn… will you marry me?”

Jun tugged on your sleeve, his grin infectious. “Say yes, noona! Say yes!”

You laughed through your tears, your hand flying to your mouth as your emotions overwhelmed you. Looking down at San, at Jun’s hopeful face, and at the ring that symbolized a new beginning, you felt your heart soar.

“Yes,” you whispered, then louder, “Yes, I will.”

San’s face broke into a radiant smile as he stood, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping you in a tight embrace. Jun cheered loudly, wrapping his small arms around both of you, completing the picture of a family you never thought you’d find again.