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princess-sof-time · 10 months

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Hello A-chan! Hope i'm not bothering you with this request, I just been feeling kinda sad lately soooo I wanted to make this request! But don't worry, take your time 💖

Could you write for Meliodas, King, Luka Couffaine, Adrien Agreste, Naruto Uzumaki, Hinata Hyuga, Neji Hyuga, Shinji Ikari, Clark Kent and Fuko Ibuki (im so sorry for requesting so much characters 😣) with a S/O that had lose their best friends some months ago (they died for sickness) and S/O acts calm and cheerful, saying to everyone that they are fine and had move on already but in really is pretty depressed since their lost but, like doesn't want to bother anyone with their sadness, but one day S/O can't take it anymore and break into tears to them confessing how sad they are and how much they miss their best friend

Sorry if im asking for much, im just a little sad and anxious :c

Ek hoop dit gaan beter met jou Moonie-chan en dat jy hou van wat ek geskryf het en dat hierdie teks jou beter laat voel. Moenie bekommerd wees nie, hoe meer karakters ek skryf, hoe meer pret het ek.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

🄼🄴🄻🄸🄾🄳🄰🅂

• S/O, their voice trembling with grief, finally musters the courage to open up about the immense pain they've been silently carrying since the loss of their best friends. Tears stream down their face as they confess the depth of their sorrow to Meliodas. Despite their attempts to maintain a calm and cheerful facade, S/O reveals that they have been battling a profound sense of emptiness and depression, struggling to find solace in the wake of their friends' passing.

• In a heart-wrenching confession, S/O pours their heart out to Meliodas, expressing just how much they long for his presence. They speak of the deep bond they shared, the infectious laughter, and the unbreakable connection that was once their source of joy and support. S/O recounts the memories they cherished, the countless adventures they embarked on together, and the unwavering support Meliodas provided during even the darkest of times. The absence of their best friend has left a void in their life that cannot be filled, and the weight of their grief has become nearly unbearable.

• Meliodas, known for his unwavering compassion, becomes a pillar of support for S/O in this moment of vulnerability. He listens attentively, his own heart heavy with empathy and understanding for the depth of their pain. With a gentle touch, he wipes away their tears, letting them know that it's okay to let go and share their pain without fear of judgment. Meliodas holds S/O close, providing a safe space for them to mourn and find solace in their shared embrace.

• As they share their deepest emotions, Meliodas offers words of comfort, reminding S/O that grief is a natural and necessary part of the healing process. He reassures them that their feelings are valid and that it's okay to grieve for as long as they need. Meliodas expresses his own sadness and acknowledges the magnitude of the loss they have endured together. He shares his memories of their departed friends, honoring their lives and the impact they had on both S/O and himself.

• Together, S/O and Meliodas navigate the turbulent sea of grief, supporting each other through the highs and lows. Meliodas becomes a source of strength, encouraging S/O to lean on him whenever they feel overwhelmed by their emotions. He listens attentively to their stories, cherishing the memories they share and finding solace in their deep connection. Meliodas reminds S/O that their departed friends will always live on in their hearts and that they will find ways to honor their memory and keep their spirits alive.

• In the days that follow, Meliodas remains a steadfast companion for S/O, providing a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear whenever needed. He encourages them to express their grief openly, knowing that healing comes from allowing themselves to feel the pain and finding healthy ways to cope. Meliodas offers his love and support unconditionally, understanding that the road to recovery may be long and challenging.

• Together, S/O and Meliodas embark on a journey of healing, cherishing the memories of their lost friends and finding solace in their shared love. They create a safe space where S/O can freely express their sadness, knowing that Meliodas will always be there to lend a comforting presence and remind them that they are not alone in their grief. As they navigate this difficult path together, they grow even closer, forging a bond that can withstand the trials of loss and find strength in their shared resilience.

🄺🄸🄽🄶

• S/O, their heart heavy with grief, finally finds the strength to confess to King the depths of their sorrow following the loss of their beloved best friends. With tears streaming down their face, they reveal that despite the calm and cheerful facade they've been displaying to the world, internally, they are drowning in a sea of sorrow and depression. S/O opens their heart to King, expressing the immense sadness they feel and their desperate longing for the presence of their departed friends.

• With a trembling voice, S/O pours out their emotions, sharing the void that has been left in their life by the absence of their best friends. They recount the treasured moments they shared with King, the unwavering support, and the profound bond they formed. S/O reveals how much they miss the sound of laughter, the comfort of their friends' presence, and the sense of security that King provided in their lives.

• King, with his deep empathy and understanding, listens intently to S/O's heartfelt confession. He embraces them gently, holding them in his arms as a safe haven for their pain. King reassures S/O that it's okay to feel sadness and that their pain is valid. He acknowledges the depth of their loss, understanding that their departed friends held an irreplaceable place in their hearts.

• As S/O continues to express their grief, King listens with unwavering attention. He acknowledges their longing and the void that their friends' absence has created. King understands the significance of the memories shared and the bonds formed with their departed friends. He recognizes the profound impact that these friends had on S/O's life and the depth of their sorrow in their absence.

• With a gentle touch, King wipes away S/O's tears, offering comfort in his embrace. He assures them that they are not alone in their grief and that he is there to support them through this difficult journey. King encourages S/O to lean on him for solace, emphasizing the importance of their relationship built on trust, understanding, and unwavering support.

• In the days that follow, King continues to provide a steadfast presence for S/O, allowing them the space to grieve and heal. He patiently listens as S/O shares memories of their departed friends, cherishing the times they spent together and honoring their legacy. King understands that the process of healing takes time and that grief has its own timeline, unique to each individual.

• Together, S/O and King mourn the loss of their best friends, finding solace in each other's arms. They create a sanctuary of love and understanding, where S/O can freely express their grief and find comfort in King's unwavering support. King encourages S/O to remember their departed friends, to keep their memories alive, and to honor their legacy through their own actions and pursuits.

• As time passes, King remains a steady pillar of strength for S/O, providing them with a safe space to navigate their grief. He offers a listening ear, a compassionate heart, and a shoulder to lean on during moments of overwhelming sadness. King reassures S/O that their departed friends will always hold a special place in their heart, and their memory will forever be cherished.

• In their shared journey of healing, S/O and King discover the power of resilience and the strength that can be found within a loving and supportive relationship. They embrace the bittersweet nature of grief, honoring the past while also finding hope for the future. Together, they navigate the intricate landscape of loss, finding solace and comfort in each other's presence.

🄻🅄🄺🄰 🄲🄾🅄🄵🄵🄰🄸🄽🄴

• As S/O's tears stream down their face, their stoic facade crumbles in front of Luka. They confess the heavy sorrow they have been concealing since the loss of their best friends a few months ago. Despite projecting an image of calmness and happiness to the outside world, S/O reveals the truth about the profound depression that has taken hold of their heart and mind.

• In an emotionally charged confession, S/O bares their soul to Luka, sharing the depths of their longing for their departed friends. They speak of the emptiness that has engulfed their life, missing the harmonious melodies they once created together, the passion they ignited in each other's souls, and the genuine connection that felt unbreakable. S/O admits that their attempts to move forward have been futile, as the pain of their loss continues to linger, refusing to fade away.

• Luka, their beloved partner, listens intently, his own eyes welling up with empathy and understanding. He holds S/O tenderly, his touch offering comfort and reassurance. With a gentle hand, he wipes away their tears, silently conveying his unwavering support. Luka assures S/O that their pain is valid and that it's okay to feel the weight of their grief. He creates a safe space where S/O can freely express their emotions, offering them solace in their vulnerability.

• In the depth of their connection, Luka becomes a pillar of strength for S/O. He encourages them to let their emotions flow freely, to release the pain they have been carrying in their hearts. Luka understands that healing begins with acknowledging and embracing the depths of one's sorrow. He stands by S/O's side, offering unwavering love and support as they navigate the intricate journey of grief together.

• As S/O continues to pour out their emotions, Luka remains present, absorbing their words and feelings with utmost care. He reassures S/O that their love is a sanctuary where they can find solace and understanding. Luka listens attentively, validating their emotions and reminding them that they don't have to face their grief alone.

• Together, S/O and Luka navigate the vast ocean of sorrow, finding strength in their shared love. Luka's presence becomes a beacon of light amidst the darkness, offering S/O a refuge where they can be vulnerable and find comfort. He reminds them that their departed friends will always hold a special place in their heart and that their memories will be cherished forever.

• In the days and nights that follow, Luka continues to be a steadfast source of support for S/O. He holds them close during moments of sadness, providing a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen. Luka encourages S/O to remember the beautiful moments they shared with their friends, celebrating their lives and the impact they had on S/O's journey. He offers his own love and presence as a guiding light, helping S/O navigate the waves of grief and find solace in their shared love.

• As time passes, S/O and Luka learn to embrace the ebb and flow of their grief. Together, they honor the memories of their departed friends, finding strength in the enduring love they share. Luka serves as a constant reminder that healing is a process, and it's okay to take the time needed to mend a wounded heart. With Luka by their side, S/O discovers that they can find moments of joy even amidst their sorrow, and that their love will endure, even in the face of loss.

🄰🄳🅁🄸🄴🄽 🄰🄶🅁🄴🅂🅃🄴

• With a heavy heart, S/O musters the courage to confide in Adrien, revealing the overwhelming sadness they've been carrying since losing their best friends. S/O opens up about the deep depression that has been plaguing them, despite their outward calm and cheerful demeanor. They share the pain and longing they feel for their departed friends, finally releasing the pent-up emotions they have been holding back.

• As S/O's tears flow freely, they express the immense void that has been left in their life by the absence of their best friends. They recount the treasured moments they shared with Adrien, the secrets they entrusted to each other, and the unwavering support he provided. S/O reveals the profound sadness they feel, missing Adrien's comforting presence and the joyful connection they once shared.

• Adrien, listening intently to S/O's heartfelt confession, feels his heart ache in response to their pain. He holds them gently, providing a safe space for their tears and sorrow. Adrien's empathy radiates as he reassures S/O that their emotions are valid and that he is there to support them through their healing process. He understands the weight of their grief and the magnitude of their loss.

• With a soft voice, Adrien reminds S/O that they are not alone in their journey through grief. He acknowledges the depth of their sorrow and encourages them to express their emotions freely. Adrien recognizes that healing takes time and that it's essential for S/O to have someone by their side who understands and cares deeply for them.

• As S/O continues to share their pain, Adrien remains present, offering comfort and understanding. He listens attentively, absorbing every word and feeling the weight of their grief in his own heart. Adrien acknowledges the void that their departed friends have left and recognizes the significance of their presence in S/O's life.

• With tender gestures, Adrien wipes away S/O's tears, letting them know that their vulnerability is cherished and respected. He holds them tighter, providing a shoulder to lean on and a voice of encouragement. Adrien reassures S/O that he is committed to supporting them through the healing process, emphasizing that their pain doesn't have to be carried alone.

• In the days that follow, Adrien remains a steadfast source of support for S/O. He checks in on them regularly, offering comforting words and small acts of kindness. Adrien creates moments of solace, whether it's through sharing a warm cup of tea or engaging in activities that bring joy and distraction.

• As S/O navigates the complex landscape of grief, Adrien encourages them to honor the memory of their departed friends. He suggests creating a safe space where they can celebrate their lives and reminisce about the beautiful moments they shared. Adrien understands that healing is not about forgetting but rather finding a way to carry the love and memories of their friends forward.

• Together, S/O and Adrien find solace in their shared love and understanding. Adrien becomes a pillar of strength, offering unwavering support and compassion as S/O traverses the waves of grief. He reassures S/O that their pain is valid and encourages them to lean on him for comfort and guidance.

• In their shared journey, S/O and Adrien discover the power of vulnerability and the strength that can be found in a loving and supportive relationship. They embrace the bittersweet nature of grief, knowing that healing takes time but that they have each other to lean on. With Adrien's unwavering presence, S/O finds comfort in knowing that they are not alone in their sorrow and that they can begin to heal and rebuild their life, one step at a time.

🄽🄰🅁🅄🅃🄾 🅄🅉🅄🄼🄰🄺🄸

• With tears streaming down S/O's face, they finally find the courage to confide in Naruto about the profound sadness they've been concealing since the loss of their best friends. S/O reveals the deep depression that has been consuming them, hidden behind a calm and cheerful facade. They express their longing for their departed friends, finally unleashing the immense pain they have been carrying.

• Naruto, sensing the weight of S/O's grief, listens attentively with a compassionate heart. He wraps his arms around them, offering a warm and comforting embrace. Naruto understands the overwhelming emotions that come with losing loved ones and he is determined to provide the support S/O needs during this difficult time.

• As S/O pours out their heart, Naruto's own eyes well up with empathy. He absorbs every word, his heart heavy with understanding. Naruto knows the power of friendship and the impact it can have on one's life, making him keenly aware of the void left by the absence of their best friends. He listens intently as S/O speaks of the adventures they shared, the unwavering support Naruto provided, and the profound bond they forged.

• Naruto, holding S/O even tighter, reassures them that their feelings are valid and that it's natural to experience such deep sadness after losing cherished friends. He emphasizes that grief is a process that takes time, and healing doesn't happen overnight. Naruto encourages S/O to let their emotions flow freely, assuring them that he is there to lend a listening ear and a comforting presence.

• In the midst of their shared vulnerability, Naruto shares his own experiences of loss and grief, creating a safe space for S/O to express their pain without judgment. He lets them know that they are not alone in their journey and that he will be there every step of the way, providing unwavering support and understanding.

• Naruto understands the power of laughter and the joy that friendship brings, and he acknowledges the emptiness S/O feels without their best friends. He shares stories of his own bonds and the moments of shared laughter and camaraderie he experienced with his friends. Naruto reminds S/O that their departed friends will always hold a special place in their heart and that their memories will forever be cherished.

• Together, Naruto and S/O navigate the waves of grief, finding solace in their shared vulnerability and understanding. Naruto encourages S/O to remember the good times and celebrate the lives of their departed friends. He emphasizes that their love and friendship will endure, even in their absence, and that their memories will continue to shape and inspire S/O's life.

• In the days that follow, Naruto remains a constant presence in S/O's life, providing a pillar of strength and support. He checks in on them regularly, offering words of encouragement and engaging in activities that bring joy and distraction. Naruto encourages S/O to find healthy ways to honor their departed friends and to take the time they need to heal.

• As time goes on, S/O and Naruto find solace in their shared journey of grief. They learn to navigate the complexities of loss together, leaning on each other for support and finding moments of healing amidst the pain. Naruto's unwavering presence and understanding serve as a beacon of hope, reminding S/O that they are never alone in their sorrow. With Naruto by their side, S/O begins to find the strength to embrace their grief, honor their departed friends, and slowly rebuild their life, one step at a time.

🄷🄸🄽🄰🅃🄰 🄷🅈🅄🄶🄰

• With a heavy heart, S/O stands before Hinata, their voice trembling with sorrow. They finally find the strength to reveal the depths of their grief, confessing that beneath their calm and cheerful demeanor lies an overwhelming sadness since the loss of their best friends. S/O admits to putting on a brave face, afraid of burdening others with their pain.

• As S/O's tears flow, Hinata's heart aches with empathy. She listens attentively, her gentle eyes filled with compassion and understanding. Hinata recognizes the weight of their grief and the toll it has taken on their well-being. Without hesitation, she opens her arms, inviting S/O into a warm and comforting embrace.

• Hinata provides a safe haven for S/O to release their emotions without judgment. She allows them to pour out their soul, to express the profound void left by their departed friends. S/O speaks of the cherished moments they shared with Hinata, highlighting the support and understanding she offered during their darkest times. They reveal the longing they feel for Hinata's gentle presence, her unwavering belief in them, and the comforting reassurance she provided.

• Hinata holds S/O tenderly, her touch conveying solace and unconditional love. She understands the importance of allowing S/O to mourn and grieve, recognizing that their pain is valid and should be honored. With a soothing voice, Hinata encourages S/O to lean on her for support, assuring them that they are not alone in their journey.

• Together, S/O and Hinata navigate the complexities of grief. Hinata becomes a steadfast pillar of strength, offering a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. She encourages S/O to express their sadness and share precious memories of their departed friends. In Hinata's presence, S/O feels a sense of safety and acceptance, knowing that they can be vulnerable without fear of judgment.

• Hinata reminds S/O that it's important to embrace their emotions, to allow themselves to mourn and heal. She shares her own experiences of loss and the ways in which she found solace and strength. Hinata assures S/O that their journey of grief is unique and that it's okay to take their time in processing their emotions.

• As the days pass, Hinata continues to be a source of unwavering support for S/O. She checks in on them regularly, offering words of encouragement and small acts of kindness. Hinata understands that healing takes time and that everyone copes with grief differently. She encourages S/O to find healthy outlets for their emotions, whether it be through journaling, art, or engaging in activities that bring them peace.

• Together, S/O and Hinata honor the memory of their departed friends. They engage in rituals of remembrance, finding solace in shared moments of reflection and gratitude. Hinata reminds S/O that their departed friends will always hold a special place in their heart, and their memories will continue to shape and guide their journey.

• In their shared vulnerability, S/O and Hinata forge a bond that goes beyond words. They provide strength and comfort to one another, understanding the weight of grief and finding solace in their shared experiences. With Hinata by their side, S/O begins to find the courage to face their grief, to honor their departed friends, and to embark on a path of healing and self-discovery.

🄽🄴🄹🄸 🄷🅈🅄🄶🄰

• S/O stands before Neji, their tears flowing freely, as they finally allow the walls they've built to crumble, revealing the depths of their grief. They confess that beneath their calm and cheerful facade lies a profound sadness that has consumed them since the loss of their best friends. S/O admits to the efforts they've made to shield Neji and others from their pain, not wanting to burden them with their sorrow.

• Neji's eyes soften with understanding as he listens to S/O's heartfelt confession. He reaches out and gently wipes away their tears, his touch filled with comfort and empathy. Neji recognizes the weight of their sorrow and the strength it took for them to share their feelings. He pulls S/O into a tight embrace, offering them a safe space to release their grief.

• With a heavy heart, S/O speaks of the void left by their departed friends, expressing how much they miss the unwavering support and wisdom that Neji brought to their life. They recount the treasured moments they shared, the encouragement Neji provided, and the unbreakable bond they forged. S/O reveals the emptiness they feel without Neji's presence, longing for his guidance and the comfort of his reassuring words.

• Neji holds S/O even tighter, his embrace serving as a source of strength and solace. He understands the magnitude of their loss and the impact it has had on their life. Neji assures S/O that it's okay to lean on him for support, that their pain is valid and deserving of acknowledgement. He reminds them that they are not alone in their sorrow and that he is there to walk beside them on their healing journey.

• Together, S/O and Neji navigate the complexities of grief. Neji becomes a steady pillar of support, offering a listening ear and words of comfort. He encourages S/O to honor the memories of their departed friends, to speak their names and cherish the moments they shared. Neji reminds S/O that grieving is a process, and there is no timeline for healing.

• Neji understands that grief can be overwhelming and unpredictable, so he remains patient and compassionate. He checks in on S/O regularly, providing a safe space for them to express their emotions and offering guidance when needed. Neji shares his own experiences of loss, sharing how he found strength in honoring the memories of loved ones.

• As time passes, S/O and Neji continue to support each other through the waves of grief. They engage in rituals of remembrance, such as visiting special places or sharing stories and anecdotes. Neji encourages S/O to seek healthy outlets for their emotions, such as journaling or practicing self-care activities that bring them solace.

• In their shared vulnerability, S/O and Neji find solace and understanding. They create a space where grief is honored and healing is embraced. Neji's unwavering support helps S/O navigate the challenges of grief, offering them a sense of stability and reassurance.

• Together, S/O and Neji discover that healing is not linear but a journey that requires patience, self-compassion, and the support of loved ones. Neji remains a steadfast presence, reminding S/O that their pain is valid and that they are never alone in their sorrow. In their shared strength, S/O begins to find the courage to face their grief, to honor the memories of their departed friends, and to embark on a path of healing and resilience.

🅂🄷🄸🄽🄹🄸 🄸🄺🄰🅁🄸

• As S/O's tears flow uncontrollably, they finally let go of the walls they had meticulously built to conceal their grief from Shinji. Their confession is raw and filled with the weight of profound sadness that has haunted them since the loss of their best friends to illness. S/O admits to the struggles they have been silently battling, revealing the immense toll their grief has taken on their emotional well-being.

• Shinji's own eyes well up with tears as he witnesses S/O's vulnerability. His heart aches, knowing all too well the burden of emotional trauma and the toll it can take on a person's spirit. In that moment, he understands the immense courage it took for S/O to share their pain, to allow him a glimpse into the depths of their sorrow.

• S/O's voice trembles as they speak of the void left by their departed friends, expressing how much they long for Shinji's presence in their life. They recall the moments of shared vulnerability, the solace they found in each other's embrace during their darkest hours. S/O reveals the profound emptiness they feel without Shinji's unwavering support, yearning for his comforting presence and understanding.

• Shinji's heart aches with a deep empathy, resonating with the emotional burden S/O carries. He pulls them into a tight embrace, holding them as if shielding them from the weight of their grief. Shinji's voice is soft, filled with genuine compassion, as he reassures S/O that their pain is valid, that their tears are an expression of their deep love and loss.

• He understands the intricacies of navigating emotional trauma, having faced his own demons while piloting the Eva. The weight of his experiences fuels his empathy and drives him to be a pillar of support for S/O. Shinji offers a safe space for S/O to release their pain, allowing them to lean on him for strength, knowing that he will never judge or abandon them.

• Together, S/O and Shinji embark on a journey through the labyrinth of grief, a journey neither of them has to face alone. Shinji listens attentively, his heart open to the raw emotions pouring from S/O. He holds space for their sorrow, allowing them to express their sadness without judgment or expectation.

• In the depths of their shared vulnerability, S/O and Shinji find solace. Shinji's presence becomes a beacon of hope, a reminder that they don't have to bear the weight of their grief in isolation. He offers gentle words of comfort, acknowledging the magnitude of their loss and encouraging S/O to honor the memories of their departed friends.

• As they navigate the complexities of grief together, Shinji's own emotional wounds serve as a source of understanding. He shares his own struggles, the battles he fought within the depths of his own psyche, and the strength he found in embracing his vulnerability. In each other's arms, S/O and Shinji find solace, drawing strength from their shared experiences and the unwavering support they offer one another.

• In the quiet moments of their journey, S/O and Shinji learn to heal, knowing that grief is not a linear path but a series of ebbs and flows. Shinji's presence becomes an anchor, a source of stability amidst the storm of emotions. He reminds S/O that it's okay to mourn, to feel the depths of their sorrow, and that together, they will find a way to navigate the labyrinth of grief and emerge stronger on the other side.

• Their love becomes a balm for their wounded hearts, offering them the courage to face the pain head-on and find solace in each other's arms. In Shinji, S/O discovers a partner who understands the weight of their grief, a companion who offers unwavering support as they both heal from their past traumas.

🄲🄻🄰🅁🄺 🄺🄴🄽🅃

• Met trane wat oor S/O se gesig stroom, het hulle uiteindelik hul wag voor Clark laat sak. Hulle bely die geweldige hartseer en depressie wat hul harte aangegryp het sedert die verlies van hul beste vriende. Ten spyte van die uitbeelding van 'n kalm en vrolike beeld na die wêreld, onthul S/O dat hulle innerlik verdrink het in hartseer, nie in staat om die gewig van hul hartseer te ontsnap nie.

• In 'n kwesbare bekentenis spreek S/O uit hoe baie sy haar oorlede vriende mis en die leemte wat hul afwesigheid gelaat het. Hulle dink aan die oomblikke van vreugde en ondersteuning wat hulle met Clark gedeel het, die avonture wat hulle gedeel het en die onwrikbare geloof wat hy in hulle gehad het. S/O onthul die geweldige pyn wat hulle voel, wat smag na Clark se vertroostende teenwoordigheid en die sekuriteit wat hy verskaf het.

• Clark, sy deernisvolle blik gevestig op S/O, omvou hulle in 'n liefdevolle drukkie. Hy hou hulle styf vas, sodat hulle die trane wat hulle te lank teruggehou het, kan los. Clark verseker S/O dat dit goed is om die diepte van hul hartseer te voel en dat hy daar is om hulle elke tree van die pad op hul genesingsreis te ondersteun. Hy herinner hulle daaraan dat hul emosies geldig is en moedig hulle aan om vertroosting by hom te soek.

• Saam navigeer S/O en Clark die kompleksiteite van hartseer, en vind troos in hul gedeelde liefde en begrip. Clark luister aandagtig en bied 'n konstante teenwoordigheid terwyl hulle hul helende reis voortsit. Hy word S/O se onwrikbare ondersteuning, bied hulle sy skouer om op te huil, sy geduld om te luister en sy liefde om hulle te help om deur hierdie moeilike tyd te kom.

• Clark verstaan dat net soos hy nodig het om sy eie traumas en uitdagings die hoof te bied, S/O ook ruimte en deernis nodig het om sy emosies die hoof te bied. Hy probeer nie S/O se pyn regmaak of verminder nie, maar wees eerder daar en help hulle om krag in hulself te vind om te genees. Clark is 'n baken van hoop en ondersteuning vir S/O, wat hulle daaraan herinner dat hulle nie alleen in hul pyn is nie en dat hy daar sal wees vir hulle gedurende hul reis.

• Met verloop van tyd vind S/O en Clark maniere om die nagedagtenis van hul afgestorwe vriende te eer en saam vorentoe te beweeg. Clark moedig hulle aan om bykomende ondersteuning te soek, hetsy deur terapie, ondersteuningsgroepe of ander vorme van emosionele sorg. Hy herinner hulle daaraan dat die genesingsproses uniek is aan elke persoon en dat daar geen vasgestelde tydraamwerk is om oor die verlies te kom nie, maar dat hy elke stap van die pad daar sal wees vir S/O.

• Soos S/O vir Clark oopmaak, ontdek hulle dat die liefde en ondersteuning wat hulle deel van kritieke belang is vir hul genesingsreis. Clark belowe om haar veilige hawe te wees, 'n toevlugsoord waar S/O vertroosting en krag kan vind om elke dag die hoof te bied. Hulle ondersteun mekaar, vind hoop en vernuwe hul geloof in die krag van liefde en menslike veerkragtigheid.

• Met verloop van tyd begin S/O weer oomblikke van verligting en vreugde vind, al is die pyn van verlies steeds aanwesig. Clark vier elke klein oorwinning saam met hulle, en herinner hulle daaraan dat hartseer nie lineêr is nie en dat dit natuurlik is om op- en afdraandes te ervaar. Saam bou hulle 'n onwrikbare fondament van liefde en ondersteuning, oorkom uitdagings en vind lig selfs in die donkerste storms.

• Clark en S/O onthou hul ontslape vriende met liefde en eer hul herinneringe deur gedeelde stories en betekenisvolle rituele. Hulle hou die vlam van vriendskap lewendig, met die wete dat alhoewel die verlies pynlik is, die liefde en konneksie wat hulle gedeel het, nooit uitgedoof sal word nie.

• Deur liefde, begrip en wedersydse ondersteuning vind S/O en Clark krag om die pyn van verlies die hoof te bied en bietjie vir bietjie te begin om hul lewens te herbou. Hulle weet dat daar altyd oomblikke van hartseer en verlange sal wees, maar hulle leer ook om vreugde en dankbaarheid te vind in gedeelde herinneringe en nuwe ervarings wat die lewe bied.

• S/O vind in Clark 'n liefdevolle en deernisvolle maat, iemand wat bereid is om die moeilikhede van die lewe aan sy sy die hoof te bied. Hulle ontdek dat gedeelde kwesbaarheid hul band versterk en hulle bemagtig om die uitdagings wat die lewe ook al mag meebring, die hoof te bied. Verenig deur liefde en die moed om hartseer die hoof te bied, vind hulle hoop en genesing in elke gedeelde oomblik.

🄵🅄🄺🄾 🄸🄱🅄🄺🄸

• Met trane wat oor S/O se gesig stroom, kan hulle uiteindelik nie meer die ontsaglike hartseer bevat wat hul harte teister sedert die verlies van hul beste vriende nie. Ten spyte van haar kalm en vrolike voorkoms, openbaar S/O aan Fuko die diepte van haar hartseer en depressie. Hulle spreek die moeilikheid uit om hul pyn te deel, omdat hulle Fuko van haar hartseer wil beskerm.

• In 'n bewerige stem praat S/O van die leemte wat hul oorlede vriende gelaat het en hoe baie hulle die lewendige energie en aansteeklike vreugde mis wat hulle eens gehad het. Herinneringe aan die oomblikke wat met hul vriende gedeel is, die lag wat deur hul vriendskap weerklink het en die diep konneksie wat hulle opgebou het. S/O erken dat hulle 'n swaar las gedra het, en verlang na Fuko se vertroostende teenwoordigheid en die lig wat sy in hul lewens gebring het.

• Fuko, met trane in haar oë, reik uit na S/O met 'n begripvolle hart. Sy hou saggies hul hand vas en bied vertroosting en ondersteuning. Fuko verseker S/O dat haar pyn geldig is en dat dit heeltemal aanvaarbaar is om op haar staat te maak vir ondersteuning. Sy moedig hulle aan om hul emosies openlik te deel en belowe dat sy daar sal wees om hul hartseer te hoor en te verwelkom.

• Saam navigeer S/O en Fuko die onstuimige pad van hartseer, en vind vertroosting in hul gedeelde verbintenis. Fuko skep 'n veilige, oordeelvrye ruimte vir S/O om haar hartseer uit te druk en die kosbare herinneringe van haar oorlede vriende te herinner. In oomblikke van kwesbaarheid vind hulle krag en vertroosting, wetende dat hulle op mekaar kan staatmaak om die nagedagtenis van hul geliefde vriende te genees en te eer.

• Fuko voel die gewig van S/O se hartseer in haar eie hart. Sy kan met hul pyn vereenselwig en is toegewyd daaraan om die ondersteuning te wees wat hulle so broodnodig het. Fuko is bereid om sonder oordeel te luister, om S/O se hand vas te hou terwyl hulle deur hierdie moeilike tyd gaan. Sy verstaan dat die genesingsproses uniek is aan elke persoon, en haar rol is om 'n vriendelike skouer en 'n begripvolle hart te bied.

• Met empatie en deernis soek Fuko maniere om S/O te help om oomblikke van troos en vreugde te midde van pyn te vind. Sy deel stories en herinneringe van afgestorwe vriende, en skep 'n ruimte vir S/O om hul geheue lewendig te hou. Fuko bied ook klein dade van sorg en vriendelikheid, soos 'n stywe drukkie of warm glimlag, om S/O te herinner dat hulle nie alleen in hul rou reis is nie.

• Fuko weet dat die genesingsproses geleidelik sal wees en dat daar op- en afdraandes sal wees. Sy bly 'n konstante en ondersteunende teenwoordigheid vir S/O, en moedig hulle aan om bykomende ondersteuning te soek wanneer nodig. Sy herinner S/O daaraan dat die genesingsreis nie alleen gereis hoef te word nie en dat hulle vriende en geliefdes het wat bereid is om uit te reik.

• Soos die tyd verbygaan, begin S/O klein oomblikke van verligting en vrede vind. Fuko vier elke oorwinning en troos saam met hulle, en moedig S/O aan om die vordering wat hulle maak, te erken. Sy moedig hulle aan om betekenis en doel in hul helende reis te vind deur aktiwiteite te verken wat vreugde en 'n gevoel van konneksie bring.

• Terwyl S/O en Fuko hul helende reis saam voortsit, ontdek hulle dat gedeelde hartseer omskep kan word in 'n krag van wedersydse ondersteuning. Hulle leer om hoop en vertroosting in mekaar te vind, en vind skoonheid in die herinneringe wat hulle met hul oorlede vriende gedeel het. Fuko staan aan S/O se sy as 'n baken van liefde en begrip, en bevestig haar toewyding om hulle te help om hul hartseer te navigeer en 'n pad na genesing te vind.

• Mettertyd begin S/O ontdek dat die hartseer nie heeltemal verdwyn nie, maar omskep in 'n rustige verlange vol dankbaarheid. Fuko moedig hulle aan om die nagedagtenis van hul afgestorwe vriende te eer deur kreatiewe maniere te vind om hul lewens te vier. Sy help hulle om sin in hul eie lewens te vind en hoop in hul harte te koester.

• S/O en Fuko vind krag en moed in mekaar, wat mekaar inspireer om vorentoe te beweeg en die lig aan die einde van die tonnel te vind. Hulle weet elke persoon se genesingsreis is uniek, maar hulle is vasbeslote om hierdie uitdaging saam die hoof te bied. Met verloop van tyd ontdek hulle dat hartseer nie die einde van die verhaal is nie, maar 'n belangrike deel van hul groei en begrip van liefde en die lewe.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

#nanatsu no taizai x reader #miraculous x reader #smallville x reader #clannad x reader #evangelion x reader #naruto x reader #anime x reader #meliodas x reader #king seven deadly sins x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #hinata hyuga x reader #neji hyuuga x reader #shinji ikari x reader #smallville! clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader #fuko ibuki x reader #angst #fluff

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magniloquent-raven · 1 year

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i wrote this for me but yall can read it too if u want 💖it's just 2k of piercing kink lmfao

(so. cw needles)

"What's this?" Billy flicks a balled up grocery bag aside, plastic clips and crumpled receipts rustling as he shifts the mess around. He's pretty sure Steve hasn't cleaned this shitty little table out since...ever, probably. If he digs far enough he'll probably find whatever crap the previous renters left behind.

Steve flops on his side, wriggling over a cushion to join him, and propping his chin on the arm of the couch. It doesn't get him far enough to see into the drawer. Billy rolls his eyes and pinches the baggie, lifting it high enough to sarcastically wave it in Steve's face.

Needles glint in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Straight, silver, hollow-point needles, individually wrapped in neat little conjoined packages. There's other shit in the bag too, antiseptic wipes in packets stamped with green lettering, weird looking tongs, latex gloves rolled into a nearly unrecognizable blue mass.

Maybe the better question would've been why does Steve goddamn Harrington have a piercing kit?

Steve blinks at it, recognition dawning at a snail's pace. "Oh, that." He folds his arms under his chin, resting on his forearms. His cheek squishes a little and Billy wants to do something stupid. Like. Grab his face. Or kiss the dumb little wrinkle between his brows. "That's Robin's fault."

"What."

"She wanted her nose pierced. And it's, like. Cheaper to just buy the stuff for it, I guess." He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes, and Billy's fingers twitch. "I told her it was a dumbass idea. But it turns out, not for the reasons I thought. She freaked out when I put the needle through. So. Yeah. It was a whole thing."

"Hm."

Billy eyes the kit. Imagines Buckley flailing and teary with a needle stuck in her face. Expects to be amused by her being a giant baby but instead the thought...changes. Shifts. To Steve and his careful fingers, gently preparing the spot, guiding her head to the right angle...

A surge of jealousy hits him in the chest, and the scene blurs, getting less coherent, until—

Cold needle and warm hands, the sharp rush of it, pain and heat and an indefinable feeling prickling up his spine.

Billy fiddles with the silver hoops in his ear.

There's something simmering in his gut. Nerves, maybe, partly. But it's more than that. Deeper. He bites his lip.

"You should do me too."

Steve sputters, a pink flush blooming on his cheeks.

Billy grins at him, all canine and confidence he doesn't feel. "Piercing, Harrington."

"But—"

"Nah, c'mon, we're doing this." He tosses the baggie at Steve—who fumbles, but catches it—and with his newly freed hands, strips off his shirt. He drops it on the floor, not bothered about where it might land.

Steve is doing his best impression of a fish out of water, shallow, quiet breaths the only sound escaping his gaping mouth. His entire face has gone splotchy. It's kind of adorable.

"I don't have all day," Billy prods. He does, and even if he didn't, he'd make time. But Steve doesn't need to know that. "I'm not gonna freak out, if that makes you feel any better. Cross my heart." He draws an x on his bare chest. Steve's eyes follow the motion, and linger even after he's dropped his hand.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Lingering. Looking. It's...interesting. Exhilarating.

"This is a stupid idea," Steve says faintly.

"When has that ever stopped you?"

That gets a laugh out of Steve, the corner of his eyes crinkled as he scoffs and acts offended. "Whatever, man, just don't blame me if it gets infected."

They're doing this. They're fucking doing this. Billy's stomach swoops like a bird in flight.

This is such a dumb idea.

Billy doesn't care.

He sits on the coffee table, across from Steve, who's still half-lounging on the couch. Their knees brush, and Billy feels it everywhere. He's a live wire, tense and jittery as a current runs through him, tingling in his extremities and coiling in his guts. It takes more than a little effort just to keep still and appear unaffected.

Steve eyes him, his gaze wandering up and down. "So. I'm guessing you don't want it in your nose..."

Billy snickers at that, he can't help it. "Do you say that to all the girls?"

"Good idea, mock the guy who's about to poke holes in you."

"No, no, I'm being serious," Billy dissolves into further giggles, "If you haven't figured out where to stick it yet I'd like to know."

"Har har."

"I could give you some pointers."

"Are you done?" The question is punctuated by the elastic snap of Steve pulling on a latex glove. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, unimpressed and unamused, one eyebrow raised and his lips flat, but there's a hint of mirth glittering in his eye and the corner of his mouth keeps twitching. Overall the way he's watching Billy fall all over himself laughing is too fond, too warm to be convincingly annoyed.

That shuts Billy up faster than genuine annoyance would have. He rubs the back of his neck, like he can wipe away the hot flush with his hands, and he ducks his head to hide a dopey grin.

"Alright." There's a rustling noise as Steve digs through the bag. "Um. I gotta." He waves the wipe he retrieved, vaguely gesturing at Billy's chest with it. The kit is clutched in his other hand, wrinkled between his tense fingers.

"What are you waiting for."

Steve inspects him. Silently. Eyes skimming over his chest again, flicking up to his face nervously. "You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes."

"You're really—"

"Steve. I really want you to do it."

Steve lets out a slow, quiet breath. "Okay." He nods, his expression hardening into something more determined. Something that makes Billy want to kiss his stupid face even more than usual.

It doesn't help that the next thing Steve does is put his hands on Billy's chest. He only needed one. Two fingers separated from Billy's skin by cold, damp antiseptic. Two fingers circling the hard nub of his nipple while his thumb brushes sensitive skin underneath. That would have been overwhelming enough. But Steve shifts closer to him, perched on the edge of the couch, positioning himself between Billy's thighs, and skims his palm up Billy's side, over his ribs, for no goddamn reason.

He's not keeping Billy in place, his touch is too soft for that, he's just...holding him.

Billy's insides are mush. Hot syrupy goop.

And his dick is a hard line in his jeans, straining against his zipper.

He bites his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth to keep quiet. It feels wrong somehow, to look at Steve right now, while he's getting off on something that's...it's not the same for Steve. They're not on the same page, and he knows it. But he can't tear his eyes away. He's so close. And so pretty. Even more so when he's concentrating. Dark eyes focused only on Billy. Lips parted just a little.

"Okay, I gotta use the...this thing. Now." Steve tosses the wipe aside and picks up the clamp, clicking it a couple times and staring at it like it's a note written in a foreign language.

"Mhm." Billy does his best not to squirm.

See, the thing is, Billy's the only person who's ever done anything to his nipples. Like it's never occurred to the people he's slept with that he'd enjoy it. Maybe they just didn't care to ask. And maybe he was too embarrassed to bring it up. Chicks like getting their nipples played with, okay. It's...it's stupid that he can't get himself off without one pinched between his fingers. It's weird that sometimes he neglects his cock because he's got both hands up his shirt.

Turns out being touched by someone else is on a whole different level. Touched without a flimsy barrier between them. Touched firmly, with intention.

He sways forward, jolting a little when Steve pinches, tugs, sending a bolt of heat right through him. He grips the edge of coffee table hard enough to hear it creak.

The clamp is colder than the wipe. Or maybe he's just warmer now. He can feel his pulse pounding, and he can almost hear the blood rushing south.

"You're being really quiet," Steve says carefully. The clamp is securely in place, but Steve hasn't taken his hand off Billy's chest yet. His palm is a little sweaty, cupped under Billy's pec, his thumb moving absently in circles that make Billy shiver.

"Is there something you'd like me to say?" Jesus, he didn't expect to sound so hoarse.

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Um." He busies himself with rooting through the kit to fish out a needle. "Nope. Just. Usually I can't get you to shut up, so."

He doesn't have a witty reply. Or even a fucking stupid one. There's nothing in his head but static and a silver gleam.

"Last chance to back out."

Billy lets out an annoyed huff.

"Okay. Well. Here we go."

Here they go.

Billy's breath catches when Steve unwraps the needle, his imagination already three steps ahead. The phantom sensation is enough to make his dick throb.

He's as patient as he can be with Steve's hesitation. His lingering a hair's breadth from Billy with the needle's point. His shaky little breath to steel himself. Billy's about ready to crawl out of his own skin by the time Steve finally thrusts in and pierces him.

As much as he was waiting and waiting and waiting for it, he wasn't fully expecting it when it happened, and it knocks the air from his lungs. One small point of contact is his whole world for the seconds it takes to pass through, one crystalized moment, sharp and shining. And then the rush. The blanket of warmth that settles over him afterwards.

He doesn't realize his eyes have fallen shut until he opens them again, blinking until Steve's wide-eyed stare comes into focus.

"I've got the, uh. Barbell. Gonna put that in now."

It's a tricky part. Billy wonders vaguely if Steve actually knows what he's doing, and he finds he doesn't care. He cares even less when he feels the needle move again, tugging, rubbing against sensitive skin. His gaze drops to the little bit of tongue poking out the corner of Steve's mouth, and everything else seems a little blurry. He shifts his hips, just a little, he can't help it. It's not a conscious thought, it's just friction; Steve's clever fingers and the warm scent of honey shampoo are making him dizzy. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, letting himself sink a little deeper into the haze of sensations.

"There! Done," Steve says it, but he doesn't pull away. "Did you want the other one—"

"Yes."

Steve blinks at him. "You seem kinda…" His gaze wanders. Downward. A little more. And then his eyes widen. "Oh."

He doesn't sound as freaked out as Billy might've expected. He mostly sounds…curious. Which. Is very interesting.

"Well. I guess I'll do you again then."

Holy shit.

Okay.

It's different the second time. Steve's different. He teases, wiping Billy clean for much longer than he needs to, circling and circling 'til Billy's squirming, aching, wanting more but unwilling to beg. Every time he shifts his hips a shudder jitters up his spine. His briefs are wet and sticking to the tip of his dick, still uncomfortably trapped by denim.

It's also harder to keep track of Steve's individual movements. Getting the clamp, unwrapping the needle, putting the bag down, throwing the ripped packaging aside. The first time he was hyperaware of everything, anticipation clawing at his patience. Now, he's sinking into a warm bath, he's floating on a cloud, he's loose-limbed and more focused on the hot flush on his chest and the darkness of Steve's blown pupils than anything else.

There's just…moments. The surprised part of Steve's lips when Billy accidentally lets a whimper slip. The needle point piercing his skin. The sudden wave of heat that slams him in the gut when Steve brushes his knuckle over Billy's swollen nipple, the way his vision whites out and he trembles and he fucking cums in his jeans, while sitting on Steve's goddamn coffee table.

He's not sure when exactly Steve finished up, but suddenly he's all too aware that his chest hurts and his underwear is sticky and Steve is looking uncertain again, despite his hand resting on Billy's thigh.

"So…that was…" Steve flounders. Pauses. Opens his mouth to keep floundering.

Billy kisses him. It's one little peck on the mouth. Just one. It's two seconds of contact, and Billy's heart is only racing because he just had an orgasm, okay.

"Thanks," he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. Like that's gonna make everything less weird.

But Steve smiles at him. Cracks a grin, and then snickers. Because, yeah, sure, it's weird, it was all weird, but…maybe that's fine.

tag list @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you 💕

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #stranger things #a raven's writing desk

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that-punk-adam · 3 months

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The largest ever lottery winning was around $2 billion. The average (American) person will only make around $3 million in their entire life. The take home of that lottery was around $265 million if I’m remembering correctly, totaling to around 88 lifetimes worth of bills, rent, mortgage, groceries, events, etc. What do you think the average person is going to spend $265,000,000 on if given the chance?

I’d straight buy a house. Not a mansion, but a house that has enough space for me and husband and a dog. If I’m feeling spicy, 2 dogs. Shelter dogs or from really ethical breeders, not whatever breed is popular. We’d have lots of land with a stream crossing through.

I’m funding my own mini farm. Goats and chickens and ducks. Maybe I’d get those really fuckin cute sheep with the black faces. A small flock, for the wool and meat. A lamb shank on special occasions is heavenly. A huge hoop house for crops that would benefit from the protection. A small orchard for the seasonal blessings that are Fuji apples… the trees would come from this small orchard called Lynn’s. I’d fight for those damn apples.

I’d host parties that would embarrass the hobbits of the shire. Imagine tending to a party that’s equal to those massive marriage parties. Fresh cheese and wine for all! Free leftovers for all! Yes, you can come by for some free food at any point if you find yourself to be struggling!

That’s a snapshot of the lifestyle I would live if I won the lotto. That leaves out all of the donations and the good deeds that I would do with my free time. I could leave the work force permanently and do good for the rest of my life.

What do people who have even MORE then that do with their time and (near endless) resource access? Will I see someone who has built up over $3 million waste deep in some hidden creek with burning determination to get as much of it cleaned out before the sun sets? Will I see them walking along the side of the road picking up trash to just do it? Will I see them planting wild native seeds in areas where it desperately needs it? Will I see if hear about them joining the common folk in person to speak out on the rights of humanity?

Will they do good for the world? Are they doing good for the sake of doing good already?

Will you?

#eat the rich #millionaire #do good for the world #leftist #leftist poetry #political #capitalist society #late stage capitalism #anti capitalist #capitalist dystopia

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keishawantskisses · 27 days

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3RD MHA DR INTRODUCTION

**this is more season 1-3 hanabi btw**

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

Category is: Hanabi K. Banks

Age: 17 ½

Height: 5"6

Backstory: Hanabi doesn't have a dramatic life. She was born and raised in a nice area in London by a food loving family. Her mother owns a very well-known bakery, which she and her family live upstairs from, and the father is a 4.5 star chef who owns his restaurant. And even though food basically runs in their blood, her parents are very open-minded about what her future could turn out to be if it isn't something food based (although that doesn't mean they won't teach her how to cook). Ever since Hanabi manifested her quirk at the ripe age of 2 with her eyes closed, her parents were both aware of how her quirk's potential could easily steer her into the direction of training to become a hero.

Quirk: Holy restoration

Mutant type. Hanabi has a halo around her head as well as around the wrists of her hands, the ankles of her feet and one above her head at all times. She also had a small pair of head wings made of nothing but fluffy feathers.

Her main ability is healing herself or a person from physical and mental pain by pressing my hands over theirs together in a prayer "🙏🏾". This will form a halo over the persons head as a sign they are healing;

A couple others...

○ during this process, procedures in the oddly pretty appearance of glowing yellow outlines will start to take place over the injury like a needle and thread stitching up a wound for example but the procedures are harmless, maybe ticklish but harmless. Once most of the healing is done, a small glowing yellow outline of a bandage or a plaster will remain over the injury and will disappear once it is fully healed.

○ She can heaten up her body temperature using the halos healing energy. Anyone who is in contact with her will warm up too.

○ She can control how bright or dim the halo is (kinda lame but it's wtv)

○ She can reposition her head halo at any angle

《 BONUS! 》 She can also detach the hoops from her body to use in for combat! She can control them like frisbees or bomberangs, hitting people or things like targets.

Sibling quirk: Feather weight

Mutant type. Hanabi's head wings are made of nothing but light fluffy feathers that sometimes have a mind of their own. The weightlessness of the wings can be activated (triggered) to affect the entirety of her body, when her brain goes into fight or flight mode.

Way past your bedtime!: Is the name of Hanabi's podcast/live stream; it started as a small YouTube channel that she made with the soul purpose of using it as a safe place to rant her mind out, past the average sleepers bedtime (around after 9:30pm). She didn't really care for getting views, she just wanted to have a place to store her thoughts when she couldnt sleep or had a long day. Turns out her videos would appear on random people's algorithm over time and because they really liked the authenticity and rawness of her personality as well as the conversations she would have with her camera, her following would grow from 10 followers to 40, then 40 to 88, then 98 to 223 and then would grow up to 92K followers and counting. Her viewer ship would extend globally, reaching Japan and America the most

As months and years passed, Hanabi would start to refine her content. She'd start to vlog what the day in a life of a highschool teen is like, her videos would sometimes feature her close friends and family every now and then, she would include her three bunnies and the family dog as guests, she'd decorated her set up (her bedroom) more, she would also make delicious meals while yapping about broader subjects that her audience would like to see her talk about like a mukbang but without the ASMR; and her highest recommended topic this week, was what she thought about becoming a hero.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

quick note💌! : the hero education systems are set in colleges. Only students from ages 16 and up can get in to hero schools such as UA and etc. — 🍊💭

More art n stuff coming guys

@cocozydiaries @livingmydreamlife5555 @4ellieluv

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uptoolateart · 11 months

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Education Systems

I'm updating this because a French fan has now added to the conversation, for accuracy.

I think a lot of people have misunderstood the French education system, after watching Confrontation. I did a bunch of research into this for one of my fics - I have lived in the UK since I was 16 and have children in the British education system - and I originally grew up in the US. With all that in mind...

When you finish the first major stage of education:

France - Age 15

UK - Age 16

US - Age 18

Picking your focus / specialism(s):

France - Age 15, you can pick a stream, focusing on subjects relevant to what you want to do in life.

UK - Age 16, you can pick a stream, focusing on subjects relevant to what you want to do in life - there are also vocational courses, if you’re not remotely academic, and I bet there is something like this in France.

US - You are required to take all general mandatory subjects, even if you suck at them, until age 18, at which point you can finally specialise.

Speaking personally, when I lived in the US I was only given one elective in high school, and for my junior year (age 16) I realised I would have no time to fit that elective into my schedule because of all the science and maths requirements...subjects I was all but failing, because I knew I was artistic / literary-minded from a very young age. I was forced to suffer falling self-esteem, feeling like I was stupid and not good enough, simply because I didn’t have the ‘right’ brain type to fit with what the school wanted. There were other schools in the area that had slightly different requirements, but they all did some form of the same thing.

If you don’t know what you want to focus on yet:

France - There are generalist academic options where you do the usual variety of subjects, with the proviso that you get to choose if it’s more heavily weighted towards maths / science or towards liberal arts (see my personal anecdote above).

UK - Does something similar to France.

US - I was seriously considering dropping out of high school as soon as legally able (age 16) because I couldn’t cope with the pressures of the school system and my shattered confidence, despite previously being a straight-A student. However, if you drop out, you bear that stigma for life, no matter how much else you do - even though there are countries like France and the UK that legally release you from that education system at the same age or even younger. I’ve seen this happen to a lot of extremely intelligent American friends.

At university:

UK - You ONLY do classes directly related to your degree.

France - I'm told it's the same but that you don't get to choose unrelated electives for fun (you can do that in the UK - not lots, but a few over the years).

US - You are forced to take a lot of mandated subjects that have nothing to do with your course, e.g. local government or trigonometry even though you’re doing a writing degree, and you pay an absolute fortune for these / the required textbooks. (The most I ever spent on a book for my UK English degree course was £15, whereas textbooks in the US cost in the hundreds.)

What if you change your mind?

UK - Most jobs don’t care what degree you did, just that you did a degree. If you decide to do something that does need special qualifications, you can always go back and undertake them, at any age...with the proviso that you need to find the time and money.

France - I have been told it can be difficult, although in ways similar to the UK (and probably the US), where it depends on the job. Some jobs will always require retraining. It's always easier to do that training when you're younger and have fewer obligations

US - I can’t specifically comment, as I emigrated, but see above. Also, I have American friends who have gone through a LOT of hoops to try to change career paths in later life. This is probably an area where all countries could improve.

In conclusion:

The French (and UK) system is not necessarily forcing teenagers to lock into a fixed career path with no looking back, at the age of 15. Nothing is perfect, but in many ways, I think the French system actually offers options for greater flexibility by allowing greater choice at a younger age, instead of being forced to take all these other classes they may never use again in life, possibly at the detriment of their mental health.

Don’t get me wrong - there are a lot of things I prefer about the US vs the UK system in the lead up to high school (I can’t comment on the French system during those years, as I have no experience). But I’m a big believer that we need to allow kids greater choice at a younger age, with the option to stay in generalist education if that’s really what they want.

#ml analysis #mlb analysis #education systems #ml confrontation #mlb confrontation #ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 #mlb spoilers #mlb s5 spoilers #mlb s5

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (4.5: Rewind) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; allusion to depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; almost drowning, sexual content (18+)

Chapter Word count: 6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Nervous by Gavin James || Playlist 🎶

3 years ago

Yoongi’s childhood home is a one-floor house with a spacious kitchen and a nice lawn. His dad had built it for their mother as a way to keep her happy. It has a lot of the things she likes, like a big common space for everyone to gather around during meals, a vertical garden outside, and some planter boxes hanging by the windows. Half of the furniture is from the antique shop, which his dad had refurbished to fit the style of the place.

Yoongi was too young when they first moved in, but he remembers many things about it, like evenings watching talk shows and the news while they all ate and cleaned up as a family, mornings of his parents talking about different topics that got Yoongi interested in watching documentaries, and afternoons with his brother shooting hoops in their small backyard.

He also remembers the weekends you’d stayed over when he was injured, the first time you saw him break down, and the last time you walked out the door. There are memories of him ignoring his dad, arguing with his brother, and that evening when he took down the basketball ring and threw it in the trash.

He spent a whole year living here after the injury. Yoongi saw how his old man remained positive despite the pain over seeing his son struggle, how he worked hard to pay the medical bills, how he tried to make the house feel like the home he lost, even if Yoongi wasn’t sure that was possible, only because you were no longer in it, and there’s really no one to blame but him.

Things got relatively better though. After he fully recovered physically and got to save enough by helping the stores in the area digitize and selling some of his prized NBA jerseys, he moved out and rented a tiny studio apartment. He continued to help his dad at the shop, expanding its services for more income stream while also doing freelance work online. It was mentally tiring, but it helped his mind be preoccupied with things. Perhaps that’s what got him talking to his friends again; it’s what got him to go out and find other ways of moving on from all the pain that he chose to carry by himself.

It’s a Friday when Yoongi visits his old house with some groceries he bought. He got a huge payout in one of the projects he worked on and he’s been slowly paying off his dad by buying the essentials and medication, as his old man insists that there’s no debt to be paid; it’s his job to look out for his son, after all.

“Hey, dad,” Yoongi greets as he walks into the kitchen.

“Hey, son,” his dad replies, scooping them bowls of stew for dinner, a routine they’ve both developed after Yoongi moved out.

They proceed to eat, with him staring blankly down the hallway like he sometimes still does. It hasn’t been a good couple of weeks and he’s just been waiting for the next big project that would help him keep his mind off things again.

“So an old friend was in town this week and we went to this local bar,” his dad says. “It’s nice. They have live music every Thursday. A-reum was the one playing last night.”

At the mention of her name, Yoongi stills for a bit, only to hum in response.

“I asked her how she’s doing and why she hasn’t passed by the shop in a while. Imagine my surprise when she said that you two have broken up. Two months ago. And I was the clueless father who didn’t know that his son was going through another heartbreak,” his dad continues. “What happened, son? You both seemed happy. You looked happy.”

“Shit happens,” Yoongi shrugs, not keen to talk about how much of a jerk he really is. It’s enough that he knows exactly what caused him to fall out of his feelings for her; he doesn’t really want to share that with anyone else.

His dad looks at him with a hardened gaze. It isn’t that he didn’t know about the breakup; it’s more about his son’s reaction to it, how he’s looking indifferent to it as if it’s not possibly hurting him right now. It’s choosing again to go through all this by himself. Even more, it’s the fact that A-reum seemed good for him. Yoongi was smiling again, laughing again; it wasn’t the same as before but it was better than the closed-off, broken version of him.

“What happens?” The older man presses. “A fight that you didn’t want to fix? Remembering something from your old life and then shutting her out? Or was it because she wanted to chase her dreams and you let her leave you?”

If this was 2 years ago, Yoongi would’ve answered back. He would’ve argued that it wasn’t his old man’s place to accuse him like that, even if he has all the reasons to, given Yoongi’s track record. But instead, he just looks down, eyes sullen as he thinks of the night he told her that he no longer felt the same, and that it was better if they continued with their lives separately.

“That’s kind of out of line,” he replies, respectfully.

His dad sighs, suddenly feeling guilty about making assumptions, especially when he knows how hard his son struggled, and how he worked just as hard to be better.

“I’m sorry, son, I just—”

“It’s okay, dad. They’re not baseless accusations,” Yoongi interjects. They’re what happened with you, after all.

“I just… don’t want you to keep pushing away people who love you, who want to be there for you,” his old man says. “It’s an exhausting thing to do at such a young age. You’ve got so much life to live. You can’t be scared forever.”

“I know. It was my fault. There’s still a lot I still can’t let go of,” Yoongi explains, even if there are more reasons behind it. “But I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s hard, sure, but I can manage. You don’t have to worry. I promised I’d reach out if it gets too much.”

“Okay, then,” his dad concedes. It’s progress from before, if he’s being honest, and this is always better than having his son crying on his own and completely shutting everyone out. “How was your day then?”

Dinner continues without the tension from earlier. Both men even get a laugh in. Perhaps Yoongi’s just much better at compartmentalizing now, or maybe he’s picked up a few acting tips from you. But either way, it keeps his dad from asking more. Breaking up with his girlfriend because she reminds him so much of you isn’t exactly in the list of Yoongi’s proudest moments; he’d carry this thought in his grave if he has to.

His old man heads to the couch while Yoongi insists on cleaning up. He washes the dishes, throws out the trash, and organizes all the groceries he’s bought. By the time he joins his dad, he could already hear the snores from next to him. Yoongi lets him be, knowing it’s been a tiring week, and proceeds to watch the show that’s on TV.

It takes a while for him to register that it’s you on the talk show, along with your co-stars from a recently-concluded series where you starred in a supporting role. His dad watched the show religiously; he was probably waiting for this segment before he fell asleep.

The cast consists of mostly veteran actors and you’re the youngest of them all, and so most of the questions addressed to you are about your feelings acting alongside people you look up to and if you felt any fear going into this project.

“Any time I star on a show is terrifying, only because I’m afraid to fail,” you answer. “It means so much to me to be given this chance and I have to tell myself that I can’t waste this opportunity. I only will if I let the fear take over, and that’s like betraying all my hard work, you know? I have to remind myself that I’m meant to take up this space. My agency, my friends, my colleagues - they all helped me get here. Giving in to the fear feels like I’m letting them down, too, and they don’t deserve that.”

The host seems in awe with your answers, so do your co-stars who pat you on the back and remark that you’ve always been very mature, that you’re a hard worker as much as you’re talented, and that they didn’t feel like you were new to the industry with how bold you were.

You cover your face in amusement while they all look fondly at you. You have that smile on, the one where you’re a little embarrassed over being praised, but Yoongi can sense that you’re also a little emotional over hearing what your colleagues think of you.

It’s the first time he’s watching you get interviewed and he’s a little emotional as well, seeing you get flustered but look proud. He listened to you talk about all these things - what shows you want to act in, which actors you want to work with, the attitude you want to bring into every project. You once told him that you admired him for being brave for dreaming, but he never got to tell you the same. He thinks you’re much braver than he ever would be. You loved him fiercely and certainly, after all, and he’d been the scared one who couldn’t do the same.

He stands by his decision that letting you go meant he loved you too much to keep you suffering with him, but sometimes he can’t help but think that maybe he’d been greedy, that his love had been selfish, that his selflessness made him decide for the both of you, and that ultimately pulled you both apart. Seeing you in the same room with people you admire eases that thought a little bit, but it’s your words that hit him harder.

What’s hard work if he doesn’t get to reap the benefits? Perhaps it’s one reason why the injury hurts more than just physically; it’s hard to explain how something so devastating can rip one’s soul, especially when he’d spent years molding his life around basketball only for him to lose his space in its world.

It continues to pain him; he aches for the death of his dream. But it’s the people around him who suffered greatly because he’d given in to the fear of living life without the sport he’d loved greatly. You hurt the most because of it; his family and friends continue to see him without the light in his eyes anymore. He’d hate to think that everyone who’d supported him from when he was able, to when he was broken would think that they haven’t been enough. He’d only wanted to shield them all from how dark it was in his mind so only he gets to shoulder it; perhaps selflessness can actually be selfish, too.

His thoughts are disrupted when your name is called again. The host asks what advice you could give to young aspirants who are just starting or have yet to put one foot on the door of this industry.

“I’m just like them,” you chuckle, a little shy. “I’m still finding my way.”

“But you’ve at least done something,” the host says. “Hearing it from someone close to their age or someone they can relate with may resonate more with them than from the veterans who’ve been doing this for years.”

Your co-stars agree and encourage you to talk, so you take the mic and address the viewers.

“To the young ones in school training to become an actor, or doing this for fun, or exploring the possibility of doing this for a living, I’m telling you now, it’s not always gonna be easy nor glamorous,” you start. “It’s gonna hurt sometimes, you’ll face rejection; you might even feel like it may not be worth it. Remember that it’s all part of the ride. It’s pretty amazing most of the time, especially when you love and respect your craft. Just keep working hard and turn to the people who’ll dream your dream with you.”

Yoongi notices the way your smile fades a little, even more when you say the next words, as if they’re hurting you and giving you peace at the same time.

“But if it gets too much, remember that it’s okay to give up, too. That doesn’t make you weak nor a failure nor a coward,” you continue. “Giving something up decisively takes courage. And you worked hard. The people who love you will love you no matter what.”

A lone tear falls down Yoongi’s cheek. If he was being delusional, he’d think you meant to say the words to him. Maybe the guys still talk to you; perhaps they told you about how he’d stopped playing basketball altogether, how he doesn’t like watching or talking about it anymore, and how he’d given up any bit of dream related to it. And maybe that hurt you, too, and that’s why you’re saying this, perhaps hoping in some way, it will get to him.

He turns off the TV and walks to his room. It hits him when he looks around, the love he once displayed for the sport no longer there. The empty walls that used to be full of posters, the rusty shelf that used to house his trophies, the closet that was once filled with jerseys that he’d sold. He didn’t give it up decisively. He gave it up fearfully and helplessly, because as he looks at this place that’s devoid of what once was his dream, all he feels is pain and guilt.

He misses the sport terribly, and being without it has hurt him more than anything.

Yoongi gets the posters he’d kept under his bed. Some of them have tears in them, most are crumpled. But he meticulously tapes and flattens them before posting them on his walls again, feeling his room come alive once more. He retrieves all his trophies from the big trash bag in the corner, taking each one out and placing them on the shelves.

From inside his closet, he unfolds the 2 remaining jerseys he didn’t have the heart to sell - the MJ one that his mother left for him, and the Allen Iverson one that you got him for your anniversary. He hangs them inside, his fingers tracing the Sixers logo of the one from you, and he allows himself to remember how playing made him feel so happy and free. But more than anything, he lets himself remember the excitement he’d get whenever he watched the sport, whenever he’d talk about or analyze it, whenever he’d think about it, and then a smile graces his face.

Not playing professionally may be an unrealized dream now. He’s in his late 20s with only a college career to be proud of. He’s accepted some time ago that his knee won’t be the same anymore, but he doesn’t need that to enjoy the sport. He still loves it whether he shoots the ball or watches someone else do it.

As he looks around his room, he feels that bit of excitement once again, and all it took was an interview he didn’t intend to watch of the woman whose love he’ll always hold onto for him to realize that he doesn’t want to give all this up. It’ll always pull him back in. If he can’t let it go decisively, then he won’t do it at all, not when it’s what could get him back on his feet again, even if it’s what tore him apart in the first place.

He pulls out his phone and texts his brother.

[To: Geumjae] Are you free in the morning? Can you go to the park with me to shoot around?

[To: Geumjae] I miss it. I think I’m ready

[From: Geumjae] Of course. I’ll drive out and see you tomorrow.

[From: Geumjae] I’m happy for you. Love you.

Being back in his university’s basketball court makes Yoongi feel nostalgic. He spent 4 amazing years making this place his home. He’d had most of his best moments here, like the 3 championships he won with his team. It feels a little weird to be in here all those years later, no longer in the maroon and white jersey that he used to sport but in business casual clothes, as the team’s coach officially welcomes him to the team.

Right after he snapped out of a 3-year long pity party, he played for the first time with his brother. He definitely missed the feel of the ball in his hand and the sound of the net swooshing when he shoots. He still got it, his brother had said, and it felt good to hear it. He wouldn’t deny that he can still shoot pretty well, but he was also practical enough to know that he couldn’t sustain it. His knee still feels stiff at times - a normal occurrence as the doctor had told him - and he’d get tired more easily, but the joy came back. The fear didn’t.

After that, Yoongi went back to watching basketball again, from the NBA to the national and university leagues. He discovered the online space for sports analyses, and he got sucked into its world. He’d comment on articles constantly and make his own, and he’s glad he did because it’s what ultimately landed him this job. One of his former coaches saw what he’d been saying and was impressed; Yoongi’s basketball IQ and unique way of looking at the game haven’t changed, the older man said.

That was 5 months ago and so much has changed since then but he’s proud of how he got back on his feet. There’s a different type of drive now, as he watches the team scrimmage as part of their training. Seeing their passion and hunger for success is inspiring, and the thought of bringing home another crown for the school with them excites him. It’s a new aspiration, and he’ll work hard to make them experience what he experienced as a young player with all his hopes and his dreams. Maybe they could achieve what he couldn’t because if it wasn’t him, then it could at least be someone he helped mold.

One other change has been you, insofar as Yoongi finally watching your concluded series for the first time. His dad insisted, saying he’d watch again with his son since it’s a really good show, and not just because he adores you greatly. But Yoongi wanted his peace and chose to watch it on his own.

He felt proud seeing you on screen. You’re made for it. Your charm and energy shine through and you express emotions so genuinely. He’d ignored his brother’s teasing that he might fall for you again, with Yoongi not wanting to acknowledge the possible truth to that.

But you’re an actual celebrity now and he’s just him. He doesn’t know how your love life has been other than the rumors of you dating some actor or model, which your agency always denied. You’d said once that most of those are just PR stunts anyway and shouldn’t be believed, so Yoongi didn’t bother spending so much time thinking if you were with someone. If any, he just hoped it’s someone who trusts and respects you, and he’d be content with knowing that you’re happy, even if in the deepest cracks of his heart, he wished it was still him.

You haven’t really left his mind, if he’s being honest. His relationship with A-reum was proof of that, so is the fact that it was your interview that got him out of his self-destructive hole to restart.

But it’s tonight out of all nights, when he pulls out the lone decent-looking jacket he has that he plans to wear to the meeting with the university faculty and sports director - which also happens to be something you got him years ago - that he thinks that maybe there’s a reason why he can’t completely move on from you. He tried and he honestly continues to, but it’s not easy when much of the happiness he remembers has you in it. You show up in his dreams sometimes, too, as if the universe is reminding him that he’s okay now, that he’s at least close to the man he once was and not just a shell of it anymore, and that maybe, you’d want to grab some coffee and see where things go.

It’s what prompts him to look up the details for your upcoming movie premiere so he could go. You worked on it the same time you were filming your series, and even if your name is one of the smallest ones on the poster as a supporting character, he already knows this is incredibly important to you. It’s your first movie, it seems, and he wants to be there to wish you luck and let you know he’s proud of you, and that if this is where your shared heartbreak led you, then he knows there’s no way he’d regret letting you go those years ago.

The woman staring back at you is someone you almost don’t recognize. Other than the glamorous champagne-colored dress that you’re wearing, there’s a smile that you haven’t seen in a long while, too. In over 3 years, to be exact. A heartbreak does that, you suppose. Your biggest supporting role in a series that wrapped up a few months ago felt too surreal for you, and you’d gone through the promotions for that feeling anxious; you barely had time nor energy to appreciate yourself nor the experience.

You do now. After the praises for your performance then and the ones from your colleagues for this, you feel that you at least deserve to smile, that you can truly claim for yourself that you’re on the way to big things, even if you know you’re far from it. You’re the most junior out of the entire cast, after all, and you’re more like a supporting role to the supporting role. You’re in the credits, at least, and you got to act alongside some of the people you look up to once more.

It’s premiere night and that calls for a big event. Jimin, your newly-hired personal assistant slash stylist, knocks on your door to say that the car is ready. You exit your room and drive from your humble apartment to the venue, feeling giddy and nervous.

“Looks like there are lots of fans tonight,” Jimin says from the passenger seat, getting news from his phone. “There’s a long line inside and outside. I heard it’s a packed cinema, too.”

“Well, it’s Song Hye-kyo. What do you expect?” You giggle. “When she’s your lead, there’s bound to be a score of fans. But that’s good for me, right? They’re there for her. I’ll just be fading into the background and no one will even notice.”

“Why would you want that?” Jimin looks at you curiously.

“You know why.”

Your unsure smile informs him of the reason and he understands. It’s gonna be tricky but you decided to not hide anymore starting tonight. You want that freedom, and you want it soon.

“But also, I’m still not used to it,” you continue. “It’s my first movie and I’m just a small part of it but it’s all still new to me. I don’t want people’s attention if it’s me looking overwhelmed, you know?”

“You’re gonna be fine, ___,” Jimin assures you. “You at least still look pretty when you look like that.”

“Hmm, that’s oddly encouraging,” you chuckle, seeing the scores of fans in the lobby before your driver heads straight to the VIP parking.

Jimin opens the door for you and leads you through the entrance. “Blow them away with your beauty, okay? I’ll see you shortly.”

You’re led towards a waiting room for the lesser-known actors, which you don’t mind. The big-name ones have their own and you’ll probably only speak with them during the afterparty later. Right now, you’re talking with your co-stars while getting a retouch of your makeup, and it helps ease your worries a bit. All you need to do is walk out to the red carpet with them and hope that the people at least cheer for you. You can worry about how you fared in the movie later on.

It’s an hour later when it starts. You walk towards the doors that exit to where the hosts and crowd are, already hearing their cheers as you wait. There’s 6 of you and cheers erupt when your names are called. You all walk out and wave at them, definitely overwhelmed by the camera flashes and shrieks of the people but you remain calm and professional, smiling the entire time and greeting them calmly. It’s more than you expected and you’re just happy to be experiencing this for the first time. It’s a moment you definitely won’t forget, and you’re glad you can at least share this with someone right after.

Your group is briefly interviewed before you’re led out to the other side to go back to the waiting room; you’ll all go to the cinema in an hour after all the actors have been introduced and interviewed. You take a detour, though, knowing you can’t really wait any longer. All the fans are inside the hall, waiting for the big stars to come out so the hallway leading to one of the building exits is empty. It’s accessible to the public but you already know that no person in their right mind would be here, so it’s the perfect spot.

You enter and wait only a few minutes before you hear your name being called. Turning around, you see him, and you feel even more excited.

“You looked gorgeous out there,” Min-kyu greets as he hugs you right away.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggle in his ears. “Thank you. Did I stutter?”

“Nope, you sounded great, too,” he chuckles, taking your hand. “I’m really proud of you. I’m happy I get to be here, and that we could decide on this together. I can’t have people linking you with someone else again when I’m right here.”

“You mean when I’m right here,” you tease, seeing as he’s the one always being rumored to be with some model. You place his hands on your waist as you continue. “It won’t be so hard anymore after tonight.”

“Okay. Well then, I don’t want to keep you,” he responds. “Someone might see us. But I’ll sneak in next to you in the cinema, alright?”

“Got it,” you smile giddily. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

You kiss him goodbye and assure him that you’ll see him shortly.

It’s the sound of a door closing that alarms you, breaking you out of your little bubble with the man you’ve been cozying up with for the past 7 months. It’s perhaps your longest relationship, if you could even categorize the previous ones as such. Andrew was a 3-month long fling, Ki-yong was a half-year on-off whatever, and Min-kyu has been the only one so far that you haven’t had any issues with. You’re unsure for how long it’s gonna last, but one reason why you don’t want to keep hiding anymore is because he gets linked to any woman he so much as says hi to. If whoever walked in your little PDA just now decides to do something about it before you do, then the timing wouldn’t be too far apart.

“Do you think someone saw us just now?” You ask.

“If anyone did, we’re too far for them to take any photos,” he reasons. “If they saw anything, there wouldn’t be any proof. But that won’t matter much after tonight, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you smile. “But they’re gone, so let’s go.”

You head out separately after fixing yourself, the giddy feeling from his kiss evaporating once you’re back in your world, knowing you’ll reunite with him again later. It’s a good distraction more than anything, as your mind wanders for a millisecond how it would be like if someone else were here with you, celebrating your first movie together. But that’s not your life anymore. This is. You’d like to think it’s a hundred times better than the one you left behind.

Yoongi stares at the door he’d just walked out of after seeing you in another man’s arms, something he didn’t intend to witness.

He’d seen you walk down the red carpet then proceed to the left, and he’d been too far out to catch up to you. It’s a Song Hye-kyo movie so he knows that everyone’s gonna be waiting for her, and it’s probably why the path towards one of the hallways is empty. He doesn’t know what he was thinking following you, and looking back now, he’s unsure why he thought coming to your movie premiere without you knowing was even a good idea. But after feeling stupidly hopeful that something could come out of him showing up after letting you go, he decided to come, to drive from Daegu, dress up nicely, and be swift enough to go after you before security takes him away.

He does see you. With your arms around a man who makes you laugh and clearly makes you happy. He looks like that actor who’s being rumored with a bunch of different women, but it seems like he’s locked on you. Yoongi could only hope he isn’t cheating on you or anything; that would be worse than what he’s feeling right now, and he’s feeling pretty terrible. And stupid.

Even more as he looks at the bouquet of daisies he’s holding, something that he planned to give to you to celebrate your first movie premiere. It’s probably the plainest flower out there and there are definitely more that would suit you, like dahlias and marigolds and roses - all breathtakingly beautiful and deserving of being at the center of everything just like you are.

But he’d noticed those years ago how your eyes always turned to daisies whenever you entered a flower shop. Anyone would miss it, but Yoongi’s attention is on you a lot of the time, and he’s seen your gaze linger on it, especially as they’re placed as supporting decor to a grand arrangement. He thinks it’s perhaps your way of wishing for a simple life behind all this glamor, and that somewhere in your heart, you desire someone who could give you something just as simple, perhaps someone like him.

It’s why he decided to pass by the fanciest flower shop he could find earlier and get this, so he could tell you that you could achieve whatever it is you dream of, no matter how big or small, how grand or simple. And that no matter how high you go, he’ll always be rooting for you in every way he can.

It doesn’t seem right to still be giving this to you, he thinks, but then again, it’s not like he expected to get back together just because he decided to show up unannounced on what is a big day for you. He won’t deny that he didn’t think about it, though, but he really just wanted to catch up, maybe tell you that you helped him get back on his feet. And that he’s incredibly proud of you, and that he believes you’ll just get better and bigger from here.

But as the scene of you looking happy with another man who could probably give you much more than he ever could replays in his mind, Yoongi is reminded that it’s not his place anymore, that he does not have a place in your life anymore. He made that call when he broke things off, and he doesn’t have the right to ask you for anything else after that. Even if it’s just your time.

So he walks out of the hall and into his car where he stays for a good half hour, trying to figure out what to do. He eventually decides to still give it, without the burden on you knowing it’s from him.

And that’s what he does, as he waits at your agency building lobby the next morning for the reception to clear the flowers. He’d spent the night at a hostel and was close to just throwing it and forgetting this whole thing even happened, but he braved through it until he’s unable to back out now.

“No card?” The man asks.

Yoongi looks at the piece of cardboard that he took out right before he gave the bouquet.

I’m so proud of you, ___. So much time has passed and I’m doing better. I can see that you are, too. I was in the city and thought, for old time’s sake - would you like to grab some coffee?

He slips it in his pocket and answers, “no card. But could you write ___’s name on the envelope?”

The man hums in agreement. “And who do I say this is from?”

“I’d like to remain anonymous.”

The man looks at him warily before he nods and writes your name as the only indicator that it’s for you. No other message and no trace of the sender.

“Okay, all good.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, walking out the building to head to his car and drive back to Daegu.

He decides to eat at a nearby convenience store, and that’s when he sees the news that confirms everything he saw last night.

Rumors no more: Actors Kim Min-kyu and ___/___ confirm 7-month relationship.

Yoongi reads the headlines over and over again, the scene from last night haunting him once more. He doesn’t know why he thought that still giving you the flowers, even anonymously, was a good idea, even more now that you’ve been dating this man for longer than he imagined.

You’ve been that happy for 7 months now. It doesn’t seem right to still insert himself like that.

He rushes towards the agency again to try to retrieve the bouquet and take it all back. He’s at the end of the street, a sprint away from the building but then he stops at the sight of you exiting. With the flowers in your arms.

There’s that crinkled smile of yours that he’s missed so much. You’re looking at the daisies with such softness, like you’re truly appreciating it, and Yoongi’s heart melts at the sight. You may not know it’s from him and perhaps that’s the best part, but it’s the thought that you seem to really like it, especially when a blond-haired man stands next to you and hands you a bouquet of roses, which you smell and smile at before returning it to him. You cradle the daisies, shrugging when you try to retrieve a card that isn’t there, and Yoongi’s relieved that of all the stupid things he’s done the past 12 hours, leaving the card out was the smartest thing he did.

A car arrives and you enter, leaving Yoongi still at the end of the street to watch you drive away, perhaps out of his life for good, at least until your next premiere where he’ll probably give you the flowers again.

He hopes that with them, you get to feel the care he has for you that never withered, that on your lowest days, you think of the admirer who believes that your love for daisies is something that matters.

Your car disappears from his sight. He resigns to this next new life without you - the one where you’re happy where you are and he’s trying to be. He’ll admire you from afar until he gets to move on from you completely.

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anime-kia · 1 year

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Instagram Live

I had to write another dadmonger story, this one has been on my mind for a while. But in this story, Erik is a deadbeat (sort of).

Also, this story is in both Erik and the reader's perspective.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, a bit of angst

Relationship: "Deadbeat" Dad Erik x Single Mom Reader

It was Friday night and you were at home with your two-year-old, streaming on Instagram.

"Say hi, Makylie." You held your phone lower so your viewers could get a view of both you and your daughter who was seated in your lap.

About a year and some months ago, you went live to explain your situation to your followers. No you're not a celebrity, rather, you were a second year student in college.

In no way were you expecting to get pregnant, the thought never even crossed your mind. There was no room for kids, especially at your young age. It was always about working hard now so you could relax later. That was until that fateful night at MIT's year end college event.

Your friend, Monica, invited you to go to the huge year end bash that the fraternities and sororities came together to host. In second year, you worked really hard, studying day and night to keep your grades up to par, and Monica believed that this would be an excellent way to celebrate a good end to the school year and all of your hard work.

The party was loud and full of energy. There were all kinds of people mingling and occupying various spaces in the large house.

The early summer's breeze prompted you to dress in a black thigh high dress, an oversized jean jacket that you let hang an inch off of your shoulders, a black choker, gold hoop earrings and gold studded sandals. Your makeup was quite simple; lipgloss, lashes, eyeliner and a bit of Fenty Beauty highlighter and body lava.

The day before you and Monica drove down to MIT, you both spent the day getting your hair and nails done. She got a Brazilian body wave sew in, and her nails were the brightest shade of pink you'd ever seen, contrasting nicely against her golden skin. You on the other hand got waist length single braids and white nails, which would've been simple until Monica insisted you get your ring fingers bejewelled.

It was nice having a friend who was high maintenance, she always encouraged you to try new things when it came to beauty. Of course she didn't have anything against your natural appearance, she loved it in fact, but she enjoyed making you glamourize yourself on occasion. Monica was always dressed up, even in her 8 AM classes. Lounge clothes, and little to no makeup was good enough for you.

You both were in the bathroom making minor adjustments to your outfits before heading out to celebrate with the rest of the attendees.

"Girl, how do I look?" Monica asked, adjusting her white v-neck jumpsuit. She wore silver accessories and silver strappy heels.

"Stunning as usual, sis." You reassured her, glancing at yourself in the large mirror to make sure you were looking good too. Admitted, you felt as though you both were a little over dressed. Some people came to the party dressed in shorts and tank tops.

Monica was in a long distance relationship, but they would be meeting up at the party so she wanted to look her absolute best for him. He was apparently bringing along some friends too.

She offered you a blunt to calm your nerves, but smoking wasn't really your thing.

The party progressed and less than an hour later, an icy white Range Rover pulled into the driveway, blasting loud rap music. The bass vibrated the vehicle and anything close to it. All eyes were on the vehicle which took five minutes before shutting off.

Beside you, Monica was grinning hard as if she knew exactly who was about to step out.

Watching the four men step out was like a movie, it felt as though time slowed down. All chocolate, tall, and muscular, and you just knew that they smelled like cocoa butter and some expensive cologne.

One of them in particular stood out to you the most. Dreads swooped to the left side with a nice fade that looked freshly cut, a nice full beard that was certainly maintained, dimples showing out as he pursed his full lips together. Unlike his friends who were really decked out in jewelry and expensive name brand clothes, he rocked a simple maroon t-shirt that showed off his sculpted arms, casual black pants, black and white retro 11's and a gold chain that rested around his neck, just above his broad torso.

He had black opaque sunglasses on, but it was clear that he was staring directly at you. In fact, you hadn't even noticed when Monica pulled you over towards the group of men. You felt intimidated, not being use to hanging around very handsome men who emitted sex appeal, dominance and excellence.

"This is my main girl, (Y/n)." She introduced you to the crew, and you gave them a small wave. Sure you looked like a bad bitch at the moment, but you were the introvert to Monica's extrovert personality. Talking to men was not something you did on the regular either, unless they were family, classmates or strictly friends.

"Wassup, (Y/n)? You the one who been holding my girl down all this time?" The dark skin with a very nice tapered fade, Devonté, greeted you. Monica was obsessed with him and they spent every single day talking or FaceTiming.

"That's me." You smiled at him, still feeling the dread head's eyes on you.

Monica had noticed as well, "So, you gonna introduce us to your boys?"

Devonté scoffed, knowing that his group of friends were definitely the type of guys to get around. "For what, bae? You already got me." He joked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

Devonté was the most loyal out of his friends. The other three have done things, like running trains, cheating, lying, and a lot of one night stands. They were all very handsome, had athletic bodies, and charming personalities, on the outside at least.

"Aight, this is Chris." He pointed at the light skin with a hairstyle similar to Odell Beckham Jr's, "Dwayne." The chestnut coloured male with hazel eyes winked, "And Erik." The one who was staring at you gave a curt nod.

"Well now that the introductions are done, why don't we go get some drinks." Monica suggested, but not waiting for approval as she had already taken the lead to the back of the house.

It started out with a single cup of beer, that you weren't too crazy about, but it made room for you to become more social. At some point, Erik had started talking to you and flirting very hard. He wasted no time in addressing that he was really feeling you.

Later in the night, dark liquor was served. After a few rounds of shots, you felt partially drunk, but still sober enough to make half decent decisions. You were sure you heard Chris ask Erik about a train, but he firmly rejected stating that he wasn't about to share.

There was a lot of music, a lot of dancing and grinding. You're not sure how many people you danced with, but Erik was definitely the one behind you for the longest. He was in control for the most part, holding and twisting your hips to the rhythm of each song. By the end of a dancehall song, Erik had at least two hickeys on your neck before you were following him back to the Range Rover he stepped out of.

You remember the cold leather seat hitting your back, and how surprisingly spacious the vehicle was. The most that you recall was him lifting your dress up, giving you a compliment in a foreign language before his member had penetrated into your core with one push. Everything after that was a blur, until you woke up the next morning in the hotel that Monica had booked, wearing the same clothes you had on at the party, except your panties were missing.

You would've assumed it was a dream, but your lower half was throbbing and legs sore. Not to mention the hickeys that were littered across your body. Also, Monica was fast asleep, Devonté cuddled on top of her. You knew exactly what happened, but you weren't about to judge. You just hoped they didn't invite you to join in a threesome though.

The only thing you thoroughly remembered about that night was how wild it got and that you would not being doing that again for a very long time.

Monica cleared up any questions that you had to the best of her ability.

"What happened last night?" We got drunk, Dev and I came back here and you know what went down.

"How did I get back here?" The boys dropped us off.

That one was a bit confusing to you, because no one was in the van besides you and Erik at the time, unless you passed out before everyone got in.

The both of spent one more day with the guys. They took you both out to eat at their favourite breakfast and lunch place. Everyone was there on time except Erik, who pulled up ten minutes late... With a female cuddled up under his arm. It was like he had amnesia of last nights events. You tried to ignore it, mainly because you barely knew him and didn't want to catch feelings.

Whatever... You thought to yourself, avoiding eye contact with him the entire time. It almost made him smirk, especially when you kept lifting the neck of your track jacket to hide the hickey he intentionally placed close to the top of your neck.

That was the last time you saw him and spoke with him. Summer break had started and you were ready to relax and enjoy all of it. You had so many plans and adventures thought out. In five weeks, Monica, you and a few other of your girlfriends would be going on a cruise.

Unfortunately a week before the trip, you started to feel sick. You had missed your period that was suppose to come a week ago, but you assumed that it was just in late this month. Every morning you continued to feel ill, so you decided to finally talk with Monica.

"I don't think I should go, I don't wanna ruin the fun cuz I'm not feeling well."

"It's okay, sis. We can just get you some Gravol, Tylenol, you name it."

"I tried everything, but nothings working."

"Are you just throwing up?"

"No. It feels like I'm on my period, but without the bleeding."

"Wait..." The look in her eyes worried you, "Imma need you to think all the way back to the party."

You nodded, "Okay."

"Now, when y'all were fuckin' did he wear a condom?"

"I-I don't remember. I don't recall anything from that night."

"Just in case, you might wanna buy a pregnancy test."

Your heart sunk.

Pregnant? There was no way...

Nine months later, you found yourself popping out his child. For the first two months of discovering there was life growing inside your womb, you tried to contact him, but it was very difficult. When you did get his number to deliver the news, he berated you and claimed that you were trying to trap him. He blocked you on every possible social media outlet, even if you didn't know his usernames and he made sure that any mutual friends did not hand out his number to you. He even took it upon himself to block Monica.

It was very a very rough and lonely time. Even with Monica at your side, you still faced judgement when you returned back to campus with a round belly. Not to mention the extreme disappointment that your parents and family members all felt. You were suppose to be the bright one who made smart decisions, not the young pregnant college dropout.

The criticism from everyone was too much, but you tried your best to not let any of it stop you from graduating. You continued to go to class, up until the doctor demanded that you take time off. After giving birth, you took about three weeks off, but made sure to get any notes or studying done online.

You loved your daughter more than anything, and you swore to yourself to finish school and get a well-paying job so the both of you could live comfortably and never have to rely on a man, ever.

You posted many mother-daughter photos on your Instagram page, and many people were so interested in your baby girl. Your sister actually encouraged you to start a broadcast because she wanted to see her niece so badly.

The view count was relatively low, with about two or five people in at a time. As months went by, more strangers and some people from the campus started to tune in. No you weren't famous by any means, you had around five-hundred followers, and twenty to fifty people would tune into your Friday night live-streams at a time.

There were family members, friends, other young females in your predicament and just nosy strangers. Of course there was the occasional troll, but they got handled so fast by the chat that you never had to address them.

"I'm telling you man, she looks just like you." Devonté was on the phone with Erik. He took a screenshot of your live and sent it to Erik.

Erik stared at the baby girl who shared similar features to him. She was very beautiful he could easily admit to that, but he wasn't ready for kids.

"I ain't no fuckin' father, bruh." He replied with an irritated tone.

Erik would be lying if he said he wasn't stalking your social media for the past year. By chance he discovered you again, and he was beyond surprised to see an infant girl taking the spotlight in majority of your posts.

He thought you got rid of the baby, but clearly you didn't.

When you shared your story on live, he was there spectating. He watched quietly, all while admiring the baby girl who was the perfect mix of you both. You used a codename for him, Tom. He was almost insulted by how basic of a name you chose for him, not that his American name wasn't pretty basic either.

Two years later and he was still tuning in to your live-streams.

"Hiiii!" The toddler put her mouth really close to the camera.

"You wanna tell everybody what we did today?" Makylie stuck a finger in her mouth before answering, but you pulled it out. "Come on girl, we don't do that anymore." You chuckled at her.

Your mother's comment chided you for scolding your daughter: Let my baby do what she wants!

"Mom, you use to tell me to take my hands out my mouth so I'm just leading by example." You wittily replied.

Your mother was always in your live-streams. It was the only time she could see her granddaughter while the school year was still going on, being that you went away for college.

"Anyways, so tell them, Kai."

Erik watched intently as his daughter began rambling about how the two of you spent your day. To the best of her ability, she talked about you taking her shopping, to the park and out for ice cream.

The commenters either applauded Makylie for pronouncing her words so well, and others flooded the chat with loving emojis.

Then one of your cousins had the nerve to comment: Kylie so smart, her daddy must be a genius cuz I KNOW she ain't get that from you 😂

You read the comment and laughed, "Girl, shut up. That's why my ass went to college and you still washing dishes." The message did irk you a bit, but she was goofy and also your favourite cousin and she meant no harm in bringing up your past.

For the next minute, your the comments were filled with laughing emojis, skull emojis and oooh's or dammmnnn's.

A guy you been talking to, Omari, said: I am smart a matter of fact 😏 We finna have a nerd army soon 🤓

Erik frowned at those words, almost ready to send a message, but he decided against it as people already started coming after him.

That ain't yo baby nigga 😂😂

You a whole clown bruh 💀

This man said nErD aRmY. Im-

Yo her mama in here dude 🤦🏾‍♀️

This how he look 🤡

You were dying of laughter at the comments, Makylie joined in even though she didn't really know what was so funny. Laughter is contagious after all, especially to a child.

"Y'all relax, stop coming after my man like that." You wiped a tear out your eye then looked at Makylie, "What you laughing about, girl? You don't even know what they saying." You poked her belly and she laughed even harder.

You had a tickle war on camera that Erik watched in awe. He hadn't realized it, but when his booty call came out the bathroom and asked, "What you smiling so hard for?" He quickly went back to his neutral expression.

"Nun." He shrugged and lowered the volume on his phone, turning it face down.

"It's that single mom with that baby who looks like you, ain't it?" She rhetorically asked, slipping her sundress back on.

"Nah man, stay out my business." He kissed his teeth, "Your ride's outside."

"You don't gotta tell me that Erik, I'm guessing that's what you told her as well." She instigated with a dull tone.

"What?" He stood up from the bed and snarled, "That ain't my fuckin' kid!"

They had a staring match, until she finally broke it. She chuckled and headed towards the door, "Lose my number, ion like niggas who afraid to own up to shit they did."

He watched the door slam as she left. "Fuck." His hand trailed down his face as he sighed, returning back to your live-stream.

"Show everyone that little dance you do- oh Lord, I feel like my mama." Though you didn't want to admit it, your parenting styles were very similar to your mother's.

Makylie looked at you confused.

"Come on, the one you do in the car." You shimmied your shoulders and swayed left to right to show her, but still she didn't move. You started singing her favourite song, which thankfully wasn't Baby Shark, rather it was Kelly Rowland's, Lay It On Me.

"Lay it on me baby, lay it on me ooh, lay it on me." You laughed as your daughter attempted singing along while doing her little shoulder roll and rock left to right.

What do you have this child listening to?!

Drink some water before you start singing, you sound like a dying animal

Watch my god daughter go eowwwww 😍

Okayyy baby girl!!! 🎉💃🏾🕺🏾

Of all the songs bruh! 💀😩

She dances better than you lmaoooo

Kai better be in some dance classes

Go awwwfffff then ❤️😤

Erik wasn't too pleased with your song choice, he didn't want his daughter singing sexual songs...

Wait why do I care? He tried to suppress the thought. She is- ain't- is definitely min- NOT mine.

He was having a mental battle with himself trying his hardest to deny his first born. He knew she was, but he was stuck in denial. It was something he had to struggle with every single day, though you were the one who had to deal with the pregnancy, delivery and caring of Makylie. Erik often wondered if this regretful feeling of abandoning his own daughter was caused due to his father dying when he was eight-years-old. He knew watching from the shadows would never be sufficient enough.

Erik decided it was time to make a big decision, he slipped on his Nike slides and went down the hall to Devonté's room, knocking roughly on the door three times.

Devonté answered, his eyes red and hazy from hotboxing with their other two friends. "Wassup, E?"

The thick cloud of smoke almost made Erik choke, "Aight first of all, I told y'all to stop smoking up in here. They finna kick us out."

"Dude broke the box for this muthafucka'." Chris scoffed, "I knew it would happen."

Erik looked behind Devonté, "Aye nigga, shut the fuck up. You the one who gone be complaining when you got no where to sleep."

Dwayne let out an airy laugh, "He right."

"What'd you need anyway?" Devonté asked, bringing Erik's attention back.

"You still talk to ole girl, Monica?"

"Yeah, that's my baby giiirl." He said in a singsong voice.

"We gone take a trip down to her place next weekend, aight?"

Devonté stared at Erik confused, "Why?"

"Ayeee, road trip!" Dwayne cheered, and Chris woo'd.

"Nah, you two ain't coming. I got some business to handle." Erik began walking away, "And air the room out before we get booted."

Next week came around, Friday night.

Makylie was sleeping so you decided to give her a little break from your live-streams.

"You going live again?" Monica asked you over the phone.

"Not tonight, baby girl is fast asleep." You were online shopping for matching mommy and baby outfits. It was a bit corny, but you always liked them. Stunning mothers and their adorable babies posing for a picture in the same outfit often found its way onto your timeline.

"Y'all wanna hangout at my place this weekend? I think we both need a girl's day out. Nails, hair, retail therapy, food."

You scoffed with an eye roll, "Last time we did all that to go to a party, I was giving birth nine months later."

"Nah, none of that. Just a genuine, you, Kai and me day. Plus, I wanna spend time with my God Baby."

"I guess..." You agreed, adding a cute blue floral mom and baby dress to your cart. "But if I get pregnant again-"

"You won't! No party, just you, Kai and me, like I said."

In the morning you got both Makylie and yourself ready. Just before you left out, she decided to argue with you about her hairstyle. You liked recording videos for mom's who needed help styling their daughter's hair with quick and simple styles.

She wanted a single puff, but you wanted to do two space buns.

"No mommy, not like that!" She frowned at you through the mirror.

"You ain't tryna be cute today?" You raised an eyebrow at her. She looked cute regardless, but you really wanted to post a space bun tutorial on your page.

"No!" She folded her arms across her chest.

"Uh-uh, who you yelling at little girl?"

"Just one!" She demanded.

"We can do one tomorrow. I want to do two today, baby."

"One!" She insisted.

"Two."

"One!!"

"I said two."

"I say one!"

You both bickered back and forth for a bit, until you decided to give her what she wanted. It was not that you allowed her to have her own way, it just wasn't worth it arguing over a hairstyle. She would probably pull it out if you did two anyway, so you could forfeit this battle for today.

"I'm sorry y'all, she don't wanna do space buns. Maybe sometime this week, when she wants to cooperate." You eyed her through the mirror, but she was more focused on her puff.

Stubborn, just like her daddy...

Erik didn't notice himself smiling again as he watched the video until Devonté pointed it out.

"You sure about this, E?" He asked without taking his eyes off the road and Erik nodded. "I didn't even tell them you'd be coming, so ion know what's about to happen."

"Man, we already some hours away from Cambridge, ain't no turning back. The most she can do is reject me." He shrugged and leaned back in the seat.

"I guess. My girl might kill you though, she kinda crazy."

"Trust me, I know."

They both laughed.

You and Monica had just left the hair salon around four in the afternoon. She decided to go with burgundy, eighteen inch passion twists and you got cornrows braided up into a bun, decorated with gold cuffs.

The first trip was to the nail salon as soon as they opened because on a Saturday that place was crowded, especially around midday. Monica got her extra long ballerina shaped acrylics painted mauve, but her ring and middle finger were a glittery pink. You had to get a shorter nail set for the sake of your daughter. They were painted olive green, ring fingers accented in gold glitter.

The owner of the shop even allowed you both a free pedicure, as it was your first time coming to that shop. You got white on your toes and Monica got the same mauve colour that was on her fingernails.

Initially you were suppose to go shopping right after getting your hair done, but both of you decided on going home and winding down. Shopping could be done tomorrow, plus the fresh set of braids had your head feeling tight.

When she pulled into her driveway, there was a black BMW parked behind your car that wasn't there originally.

"Uhh... Were you expecting company, M?" You questioned her.

"Yeah, that's Devonté's car. Didn't I tell you he was coming?" She asked, turning the car engine off.

You shook your head and eyed her, "I do not want to hear y'all doing what you do, especially not when my daughter is here."

"We won't." She smirked, "...Be too loud."

You playfully shoved her head, "Ya nasty self."

You got out the car and picked up Makylie from her carseat. Monica was already at the door, entering the house. You followed her in and locked the door.

"Dev, you left my door open!" Monica yelled. She walked into the living room and saw him knocked out and snoring on her sofa. "Really?" She walked around the sofa and shook him. "Wake up!"

It sounded like he choked before he got up and rubbed his eyes, "Finally. Took yo pretty ass forever to get here." He said, pulling her into his lap and began kissing her face.

"Stop, Dee. We ain't alone." She laughed and pushed his face away.

"I know, Erik here too."

Both you and Monica's eye's widened at his statement.

"Excuse me, what?" You suddenly asked, and as if on cue, the bathroom door opened revealing that same brawny, dread head that etched himself into your memory.

It's been two years and some months since you've seen him. The one who called you crazy for even claiming that he was the father of your daughter. Him of all people. As if the headache your braids were giving you weren't bad enough.

There was a long and awkward pause as you both made eye contact. The boldness and confidence that you first noticed about him was no longer there, rather he had somewhat of a defeated look, maybe even regret.

Your feet began moving hastily towards the front door all the way to your car, Makylie still in hand. It felt as though you were having a panic attack and experiencing anger all at once.

You locked yourself and Makylie in your car, setting her down on the passenger's seat. The weather called for hot temperatures, so you knew that thirty minutes would be the maximum for both you and Makylie to stay somewhat comfortable in the car. Of course driving away was no longer an option considering they blocked you in. And you weren't one of those crazy people who had no problem leaving dings and dents in yours and other people's vehicles as you tried to escape the space.

That was Erik's first time seeing his daughter in person and he instantly fell in love.

"What the fuck is he doing here?!" Monica yelled at Devonté, shoving him in the arm. Erik still stood at the bathroom door like a lost child. "You didn't tell me that he'd be coming!"

"Chill girl, he tryna make things better!" He exclaimed, holding her arms so she wouldn't hit him again.

"You niggas are something else, how the fuck do you get a girl pregnant and then come back later while she doing good and expect everything to be okay!?" She now turned to Erik, "Do you even understand half the shit she been through without your fuckin' support? You know who was there the whole time though? Me! My ass was there doing your damn job." She was in front of him, jabbing at his chest with her nail. "You so fucking lucky that she been doing well."

Erik was somewhat speechless, "Look, I know what I did was wrong."

"So why did you do it?! It don't take much to wrap your shit up, bruh!" Monica fumed. "But you dumb niggas don't know how to control your urges, huh? Then we have to pay the price!"

"I'm tryna fix it!" He suddenly yelled, not able to handle the criticism. "I was just scared man, I wasn't ready to be no father!"

"And she was not ready to be a mother, but now look! You dirty bastards like to runaway and hide from your responsibilities. You lucky it wasn't me either, I'd find you no matter what and force your ass to take care of our kid. You soooo lucky she's a kind person."

It wasn't often someone could scold Erik like a child, in fact no one has ever done that except his parents, but that was so long ago he forgot what it felt like.

"Now go handle this." Monica let out a hefty sigh, "Devonté... We need to talk. Right. Now." Her voice was very threatening.

"Yes ma'am." Devonté shyly responded and Erik made his way out the door.

"Mama, you okay?" Makylie questioned you, her little hand patted your back.

"Yeah baby," You dried your eyes out before looking at her, "I'm okay."

"Hugs?" She asked, reaching her arms out to you.

"Yeah, I can go for a hug." You reached over to the passengers seat, meeting her embrace. She planted a kiss on the side of your head. She adapted this action from you, as you did this all the time when she was upset.

"Feel better, mommy?"

"I do, thank you, baby girl." You smiled at her. The precious moment was interrupted by three raps against your window. Your heart rate increased, but you tried to ignore him. It was hard as Makylie kept mentioning it.

"Someone at door." She pointed.

"I know, baby."

"Why you won't open?"

"I can't, baby... I just can't."

He tapped the glass thrice more, "Please open the door, I really need to talk to you."

It took everything in your power not to cuss him out. The nerve...

"I swear, I mean no harm. I'm tryna fix this."

The temperature was rising, sweat was dripping down both you and Makylie's faces.

Just get it over with, girl... You got this...

You continued to chant this in your head and by the fifth time, you cracked the door open. He stepped back to allow you to open it all the way. You stepped out and locked it, leaving a small crack.

An awkward smile appeared on his face, "Well thanks for-"

"Why?" You cut him off.

"Huh?" The smile faded and was replaced with puzzlement.

"Why are you here? Why now instead of two years ago?"

His hand wrapped around the back of his neck, "Cuz I wasn't ready, I was afraid. I didn't wanna get trapped when I had so much goin' on for me."

You rolled your eyes and almost laughed at the hypocrisy, "Oh and what about me and my life, cuz I had quite a lot going on for me too. But that was cut short when I found out you got me pregnant."

"I'm sorry, I really am."

"Yeah, because sorry changes a lot." You sarcastically replied, arms folded against your chest, "You know what I had to go through alone? It terrified me to think that I would be apart of a statistic."

"That's why I wanna make it better, I swear on my pops."

"You know, words are powerful. If you lie, that just might kill him." Quite a harsh thing to say, but when are angry people every rational?

"He's already dead..." He responded in a grave tone.

You stopped for a moment and stared at Erik, actually taking in the torn look in his eyes. He really looked like a completely different person, nothing that you remember from two years ago.

"I-I'm so sorry." You apologized, the kind person in you slowly started to come out again.

"It happened when I was eight. I had a lot taken from me..." He continued to explain his life story to you. From the beginning all the way up until now and it made you somewhat understand his choice of actions.

Though you still wouldn't justify it, it made sense, rather than what you first assumed. Which was him being a man who slept around just because he was attractive and charming enough.

"I know what it's like to not have a dad growing up, and a mother. Shit, not having a stable family is hard. I don't want her growing up like that, she deserves stability." He sighed, "And I gotta be honest... I been watching her grow up on your Instagram."

"Oh really, I thought you blocked me." You challenged him.

"That was a few years ago, I guess you ain't checked on a nigga since then."

"Hell no."

He chuckled, "Damn... Aye uh, can I see her?" He asked shyly.

There was hesitation at first, but you obliged. She came into your arms after you opened the door.

"Kai, I want you to meet your daddy." You could not believe you were actually doing this. She willingly went into his arms, staring at him with an uncertain facial expression.

There was so much love, compassion and interest in his eyes as he held his daughter for the first time. "Hey, princess... I'm ya father." She was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Daddy?" She skeptically questioned the large man holding her with one arm.

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Daddy!" The toddler wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug. There were tears in both you and Erik's eyes.

"I promise to never abandon you again, baby girl." He hugged her even tighter, wishing that he never had to let go. "I love you so much." He whispered to her.

Erik knew from the moment he made eye contact with his daughter, he was already changing. It was love at first sight. This was his seed, his daughter, his baby. This was a new life, that he created (accidentally) and due to selfish reasons, he almost left her.

You weren't sure how long it would take to mend the wound that Erik gave to you, but he insisted on trying to work things out. If the two of you did not end up coming to full terms with each other, he still wanted to be there to support Makylie.

You have to start somewhere in order to make progress otherwise there will be no results, no growth, no moving forward.

I have to try... You both said to yourselves. For Makylie, if nothing else...

I hope you enjoyed! This was suppose to be a short story but of course I got carried away lol.

Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: April 13-16, 2019)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

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