#mixed signals + emotional rollercoaster = panic attack

[teethcore]

anyways now that i'm done beating my dick in an attempt to feel something besides dread, doubt, and self loathing,

[liddlediddy]

okay personal vent bc I feel like I'm living in a sitcom rn & I have no one to talk to about it & I'm gonna explode if I don't type this out.

so there's this guy I like. we hang out a lot & the signals have been very mixed but I was not going to make a move bc im too fond of him to risk our friendship. and we work together I should mention that we work together.

anyways after months of hanging out at least once a week (we go to trivia) & not being sure if the things he says and does are because he likes me as a friend or he's flirting (we're both autistic so it's hard to tell), he messages me and says that he likes another one of our coworkers (who is also a close friend of mine) and that he wants to ask her out.

and in the span of the past 2 hours he has gone from asking me if she's single to setting up a date with her.

so I'm just on a rollercoaster of emotions because I'm 1) relieved to finally have some closure about the mixed signals in that it was all just friendly 2) honored that he considers me a close enough friend to come to me with his feelings 3) jealous (self explanatory) 4) happy for the both of them because I truly do like them both a lot and it would be cool if they get together 5) nervous that if they did start dating I won't be able to hang out with him anymore because the girl he asked out is 100% the jealous controlling type who would not let her bf hang out with other girls (I've seen it first-hand with her last relationship) 6) terrified that it WONT work out because then how am I supposed to choose between my friends

someone get me out of this sitcom-highschool bullshit before I have a panic attack

[heejinnien]

k.yeosang | tomorrow

word count: 2.6k

synopsis: someone who always promises tomorrow, until there is no tomorrow anymore

genre: apocalypse au, angst

warnings: brief mention of alcohol, mild panic attack, implied major character deaths

author’s note: this fic was such a rollercoaster to write. my goal was to capture the frailty of mortality, as well as emphasize the question of what happens when we die. please keep these two things in mind as you read, and do not read if you are not ready to face them.

cross posted to ao3 here

It is a bright, sunny Tuesday afternoon, the skies' cheerful mood creating a stark contrast against the grim news being delivered to citizens across the planet.

An asteroid is heading towards the earth. Scientists have projected that it will arrive in less than twenty-four hours, and the impact it will have will be so damaging it will wipe out life as you know it.

They reassure you that it will be quick, painless even, as you and everything that you know are incinerated in the collision. In one moment you will be there, and in the next you will cease to exist.

You are curled up at home on the couch with a glass of wine, watching the announcement on television. Oddly enough, you feel a sense of peace. Your life hadn't been an easy one, to say the least, and you often felt adrift with no sense of purpose. You work a basic office job, one that is enough to pay the bills and allow you to live comfortably, but you never felt a particular sense or purpose, never had an answer for the existential question of your existence.

Unsurprisingly, you receive a phone call from your boss, informing you that you will not be needed today at work. The words ever again hang unspoken in the air, and as you bid your boss goodbye you wonder how many phone calls like that you will go through today, how many times you will say the word goodbye. Right before he hangs up, your boss pauses before wishing you a quick, painless death. You want to laugh at the morbidity of the statement, something you are sure you will be hearing over and over again.

As your screen darkens, you hesitate before quickly dialing your husband. He had left early this morning for work, and you wonder if he's heard the news. You are sure it would have been impossible for him not to, and you wonder if he will be home soon.

Your call is sent to voicemail, and you quickly redial to no avail. You set your wine glass down, standing up and moving to the window opposite you. You live in an apartment in the city so that you can be closer to your husband's work. You have always loved the city, so it was not difficult for you to agree to the move. It is times like these you are particularly grateful for the wall of glass that is one of your living room walls, providing you with a view of the city below.

You are not sure what you expect to see. Like always, the streets are packed with cars and people, and the normality of it all makes you want to laugh.

Your phone buzzes, and you quickly swipe across the device's screen.

"Yeosang?"

"Y/N," your husband's voice spills out of your phone's speakers, breathless. "I'm on my way home, are you there?"

"Yes," you affirm. "Yeosang, the asteroid — "

"I know," he interrupts. "I'll be home soon, don't do anything."

Before you can protest, he hangs up. You stare dumbly at your phone's blinking screen, signalling the end of the call. The news that Yeosang is coming home forces you into action, and you quickly rush to your room to change. You are still in your pajamas, the announcement having been broadcasted early enough in the morning that it is before you usually begin to get ready for work, so you quickly shower before throwing on your favorite shirt and jeans. You have just finished brushing your teeth when the sound of the front door opening echoes through the apartment, leading to you hurrying into the living room.

"Yeosang," you lunge towards your husband, the force of your hug causing him to stumble backwards. He returns your gesture with equal vigor, wrapping his arms around you and holding you two together for a few moments.

When you finally break apart, it is done a bit reluctantly on your part. You devour every detail of your husband's face, noticing the way his brow is slightly furrowed and the serious set of his jaw.

For a moment, you say nothing, instead simply opting to savor your husband's company. The fragile silence is broken by him, a groan breaking through the complete lack of sound. Yeosang sighs, running a hand through his hair before fixing you with a gaze so intense you nearly wither beneath it.

"Y/N, I wanted to talk to you."

You swallow nervously. "Of course, would you like something to drink first? You must be thirsty from work, and — "

As you talk, your hands flutter nervously, a motion Yeosang observes with amusement. He cuts you off with the raise of his hand, instead opting to tilt his chin in the direction of the couch. You wordlessly settle on the plush leather, drumming your fingers anxiously on your leg and watching Yeosang settle beside you with bated breath.

When he finally does speak, what he says is so unexpected you nearly fall off the couch.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you." Yeosang apologizes, looking everywhere but towards you. "When I heard what the scientists said, I thought about how we haven't been able to spend time lately, and I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay, I understand," you reply quickly. "You've been busy with work."

"It's not okay," Yeosang groans. "I keep promising you that we'll do things together, and now that it's our last day — "

Yeosang cuts himself off abruptly, jaw tightening once again. You take his hand in yours, gripping it tightly. For a moment, you two sit in silence, both of you unsure what to say next. You are reminded of the fragility of your morality, the fragility of the time you have left. Your heart wavers, torn between a mixture of anger and yearning.

"I would like to make it up to you." Yeosang says, this time locking eyes with you. "I know not a lot of things are open, but I was thinking we could at least go on a date like… like we used to."

You swallow dryly, a confusing cocktail of emotions swirling inside you. For the past few months, you had seen little of your husband. He often worked late into the night and left early in the morning, and what little he was home he was usually holed away in his study. Tomorrow, was his promise. Tomorrow, we can hang out, tomorrow, I’ll be less busy.

Ultimately, you decide what your husband did or did not do in the past doesn't matter. All you have left is now, and you are determined not to spend your last few hours feeling angry or sorry for yourself.

"I would love that," you say sincerely, the earnestness in your voice causing Yeosang to smile, the emotion lighting up his entire face.

"Great."

~~

Your afternoon is spent entirely with Yeosang, the two of you exploring the city and enjoying each other's company. Unsurprisingly, the city is deserted, and you imagine that most people are spending their last few hours at home with their loved ones. Your parents passed away a few years ago and you were never particularly outgoing, meaning that Yeosang is the only person you have. Even though you have lived here for a year, you haven't had the opportunity to visit many places, not wanting to go alone. Yeosang knows this, and you try to visit as many different places as possible. You know that Yeosang has thought of this too when you catch him staring at you throughout the day, a mixture of remorse and longing reflected in his eyes.

In the evening, you return to your apartment, heart filled with a lightness it hasn't experienced in a while. While Yeosang cooks dinner, something he insists on doing, you wander around your apartment, taking everything in one last time.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

You jump as Yeosang appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He glances at the pictures on the wall in front of you before turning his head sideways so he can look at you.

“I was just taking everything in one last time,” you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you hope Yeosang doesn’t notice. While you were never particularly a fan of your life, at least it is more familiar than happens next, a thought that makes you anxious. Instead of sharing this, you force your smile wider and turn, asking, “So what did you make for dinner, chef?”

He tells you about the wonderful pasta dish he’s cooked up as you follow him into the kitchen. You have no doubt that what he says is true from the presentation alone, fettuccine noodles mixed in an orange sauce and topped with shrimp and parsley greeting you.

You two eat in silence, all of your words from earlier now gone. No matter what you think about, in the end your thoughts always drift towards your impending demise.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Yeosang reaches over to your side of the table, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. He looks at you with concern, and the sheer amount of emotion in his eyes finally makes you break down.

You don’t realize that you’ve begun to cry until Yeosang reaches over and wipes a tear off of your cheek. Mortified, you quickly swipe at the remaining tears threatening to fall. You’ve never liked crying, considering it to be a useless action. Crying didn’t bring your parents back, and crying won’t save you from tomorrow.

The thought makes you cry even harder. You duck your head, ashamed. You hear the scraping of a chair, and then Yeosang’s arms are around you. He presses your head against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind, and if anything a renewed wave of tears leads him to press you against him harder.

He waits until the tears have subsided to pull away, kneeling so that he is level with you. “It’s okay, baby,” he coos, wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m just so scared,” you admit, letting out a shaky breath.

“It’ll be okay,” Yeosang’s gaze doesn’t drift from yours, and his hand rubs against your back soothingly. “It’ll be okay.”

Embarrassed by your breakdown, you break away from Yeosang’s stare, instead choosing to look out of the apartment’s window at the inky night beyond. You aren’t quite sure when it got dark, the night signalling a monumental passage of time. Yeosang follows your look and silently stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Come with me,” he says. You take his hand hesitantly, and follow him as he leads you to the glass door set into the apartment’s back wall. He quickly unlocks the door, sliding it open and revealing your small balcony, and a light breeze blows through the open door, causing you to shiver.

Yeosang removes his jacket, wrapping it around you before you can protest. He shushes you before you can even protest, taking your hand once more and leading you out onto the balcony.

From all your time living in the apartment, you had never thought to decorate the tiny space. It is a simple eight feet by eight feet concrete platform, a wrought iron railing bordering you in the only feature, and you step out onto it, Yeosang sliding the door behind you closed as you gaze up at the inky night sky. Afterwards, Yeosang sits on the middle of the platform, ignoring the cold seeping through his jeans and tugging on your hand for you to follow.

“That’s Orion’s belt, see the three stars over there?” He points towards a cluster of stars located towards your right.

“Wow, I didn’t know that you were such a huge fan of the stars,” you laugh.

“I minored in astronomy in college,” Yeosang shrugs, but you can tell he’s mildly embarrassed by your amazement. He wraps one arm around you, and you lean against him. You aren’t sure how much time passes as you both gaze up at the stars, a comfortable silence stretching between you.

In that moment, staring up at the universe and all the stars, you feel small.

“Where do you think we go when we die?” Your voice is small as you finally give words to the thought plaguing your mind. You pull away, turning so that you can look at Yeosang clearly. He continues staring at the stars, remaining silent for so long that you wonder if you even spoke before he finally looks at you.

“I think that somewhere out there there’s a god that’s watching out for us.” He lets out a dry laugh. “Funny, isn’t it? That the god who’s supposed to be protecting you is the one who’s ending your life?”

There’s a moment of silence before Yeosang reaches out hesitantly, and his hand brushes against your cheek lightly. He scoots closer until your foreheads are pressed against one another, stroking your cheek idly with his thumb.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you,” he vows, and you let out a light laugh.

“How can you promise that when you don’t know for sure what’s out there?”

“I just have this feeling,” he says, voice earnest. You fall back into silence, this time staring at one another. In the faint light provided by the moon and stars, Yeosang looks radiant, almost ethereal in his beauty.

“Tell me a story,” you finally say, pulling away and nestling yourself against his side once more, attempting to shake off the sadness that has permeated the air around you. Yeosang obliges, launching into a hilarious story about one of his coworkers that has you both laughing. You both talk the rest of the night away, exchanging stories and memories. Your heart returns to the lightness it felt from earlier, and at some point you close your eyes, the only sensation you experience the timbre of Yeosang’s voice.

You can’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing you know Yeosang is shaking you awake. You blink, attempting to orient yourself, and Yeosang points towards the eastern horizon, where light has just begun to peek out.

“Look, the sunrise.”

You watch as the sun begins its slow rise for the last time, painting the sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. Light gleams against steel and glass, and golden rays shine like magnificent auras around each of the city’s buildings.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Together, you both remain on the balcony well after the sun has finished rising. The streets below are deserted, and the air seems still, as though it's holding its breath and waiting for something to happen. You savor the quiet and Yeosang’s presence, but even then you are aware every breath brings you closer to your last.

The moment that you have been dreading happens too soon.

As you hear the city's sirens that the scientists told you would signal the arrival of the asteroid, sudden panic rises within you. There are so many things you want to say, so many things you wish you had done.

"Hey, it's okay," Yeosang whispers, sensing your rising panic and tightening his arm around you. "Whatever happens next, I'll be there with you every step of the way."

You believe him, his words bringing you a sense of comfort in your last moments. Whatever happens to you now, wherever you go after death, you believe that he will be there with you, guiding you. You are no longer lost, purposelessly drifting through life and scared of what comes next.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, Y/N,” Yeosang responds, and for a moment you think you can see tears glimmering in his eyes. Then he leans in, setting his lips gently against yours and pressing you against him.

The last thing you hear is a loud explosion, and then nothing.