hey-there-you

[hey-there-you]

i'm sure i talked about this before somewhere but i reject the idea that disability is some sort of great equaliser. disability is exactly the opposite: being disabled is a stress test along every fault line of disadvantage a person already experiences.

it's a catalyst for poverty because people who are already poor or working class simply don't have the increased resources needed to manage a disability, and honestly probably couldn't afford to be costing money instead of working to eek out a living. people who wouldn't have enough to survive without even if they were abled (and have fewer expenses) are tremendously different to people who can afford not to work in the first place.

someone who experiences racism is automatically less shielded from racism and ableism both, compared to their abled or white peers. if you already experience dehumanisation, exhibiting signs of disability is used to further fuel that dehumanisation. if you're already at risk of racist violence or attacks, your disability can put you into dangerous situations that you simply don't have the ability to manage or control.

someone living in the global south may already have less access to healthcare, newest medications, vaccines, or healthcare specialists. even if they were abled, compared to an abled peer in the imperial core, they simply are not granted access to the same medical resources, doctors, specialists, surgeons, medical devices, auxiliary medical products etc. if they desperately need those things because they're disabled it's just going to be worse.

this can apply for tons and tons of different situations. i won't write them all out here but any sort of pre-existing marginalisation typically makes disability more disabling and vice versa. like no, we're not all going to become disabled eventually. and tbh even if we all did we wouldn't be working with the same resources and opportunities anyway. so start giving a shit about disabled people just because they're disabled, not because you have some idea that disability is inevitable for everyone ever so we should care because it's gonna affect us too. 🙄

[hey-there-you]

♨ lara raj . 𓄹⠀𓈒 ㅤׄ what am i to you? ㅤ𓄼 ⠀ㅤ

ii. ───“I guess they'd think we suit each other. If they saw us,” Lara says, biting her lower lip. “Everyone thought so, didn't they?”

“Yeah,” Yn agrees lightly, something short and quick that makes time stop. “Some things never change, right?”

This is what happens when you suddenly run into your ex-girlfriend in a coffee shop on a Wednesday. This is what happens when you agree to go out with her on something that shouldn't sound like a date. This is what happens when it does sound a lot like one, actually, and you've never really gotten over her.

But, well, Yn and Lara like to think that this is just the natural order of things.

�𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𓈒𓈒𓈒 Lara Raj ⋆ 𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ・ 𝑤𝑐. 7.k ・ 𝑔. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿f , hurt/comfort—Exes to Lovers. that embarrassing moment when you see your ex for the first time after a while 😓

Lara likes to call herself a lucky person. Over the years, she has often found herself in situations where only the good grace of luck could save her. Like that kind of moment when you're a kid and you've just broken your mother's favorite plate, and then she finds out and she's angry. And, like the good liar that you are, you just put the blame on the dog or cat or whatever it is that could break something other than you. 

For some reason, your mother believes you, you're free from any scolding, and that's luck. Lara really loves that. 

Lately, though, She's been trying too hard to hold on to that thought. It shouldn't be difficult, you know, but it is. After a certain point, Lara should just have given up looking for the thing that would keep getting her out of scoldings and bad situations that leave her puffy-eyed in the morning after a night of pure crying. Surely, as the stubborn person she is and always has been, none of that would make her stop believing that it would all be worth it one day. Because, of course, there's only one thing sweeter than luck, and it's called karma. 

Again, Lara likes to call herself a lucky person. It doesn't necessarily mean that she is—the universe has proven that to her a lot of times. 

And, well, this is one of them, that's for sure. It's a Wednesday, it’s spring, and she needs a coffee. Like, physically needs it, becauses she's miserable to the point of having become addicted to caffeine at the age of nineteen, and apparently, it hasn't ruined her life enough for her to have done anything about it at all. 

Much because of her desperation for coffee, Lara just walks into the first coffee shop that happens to be in front of her, without really caring about how it all sounds. This leads her into a relatively empty one, with just a few people sitting at tables studying or working, too distracted to pay attention to anything. 

She’s quick to make her order: an iced Americano that she would later make a point of adding a lot of sugar to. It's a soft smile on her lips that she gives to the barista before standing in a corner next to the counter where they hand out the orders, waiting for her coffee.

Meanwhile, she pulls out her cell phone in order to check her inbox to see what her next headache at work would be. Obviously, she gets distracted and suddenly ends up on another one of those pages of cute cats videos on TikTok, and that—that is the real problem. Because if she hadn't been so focused on something other than what was going on around her, she might actually have done something, like run or panic or just— 

She should definitely stop drinking coffee.

Because, before she can even assimilate anything, The girl is raising her head once she hears the barista say that same order she's always been so familiar with and a name. 

 A name that has never, not even once, failed to send Lara to fucking hell for her sins.

Then, Yn, after seeing who is right in front of her, doesn't even seem to really care about her order anymore. An oat milk latte with one shot of vanilla syrup, by the way, which is strange, because she always used to order two, and just didn't add a third one because she was afraid the barista would think she was a sugar addict. Yn, in fact, seems almost as surprised as Lara by the whole situation, her eyes wide as they always were when she was scared, or panicked, or a mixture of the two. Lara guesses that maybe that’s one of the times when she’s just both, actually.

What Yn does, in fact, is stand facing Lara, looking as if she really hasn't realized that she was there before, well, doing it. Lara wonders if she isn't just thinking of turning around and pretending that none of this had ever happened and not even worrying about her coffee. Because, well, that's what Lara is considering doing, and she and Yn have always had terribly similar minds. 

But, going against all her expectations and perhaps false desires, Yn does what even she didn't know she had the courage to do, because what comes out of her lips is a simple, “Hi.”

And Lara should have continued with her plan to just run away, because ‘panicking’ is already in action, in truth. However, she also didn’t know she had the guts to do that either, because suddenly all she says back is, “Hello.”

It's silence after that. A terrible, absolute, panic-filled silence. And neither of them really thought that one day that peaceful quietness they were always so used to sharing would suddenly become that. 

Well, not so suddenly. It's something that would hurt Laras heart if she even dared to think about it. 

Surprising Yn and herself, Lara is the first to break it, pointing with her chin to the drink that has been forgotten on the counter. “One shot, huh? It was always two at least.” 

Yn seems to flinch at that, as if still trying to identify that little trace of humor in Lara's voice, though always mixed with a little discomfort. And she can't cling to the fact that Lara remembers it, she can't. Yet Yn does it anyway.

“Trying to cut off,” she shrugs before shyly picking up her coffee, looking at it in her hands just so she doesn't have to face the girl. It's an awkward instant between them where they both look away too many times to count, although neither is really willing to move. Incredibly, it’s Yn who continues, “So... how's your family? Your friends?”

Lara pauses. Trying to pull herself together again. “Oh, you know. Family is family. And Yoonchae still asks me to help her do her homework.” 

Yn chuckles quietly. God, Lara has never forgotten how that sounds, but it still seems completely new. “You mean... she asks for your help and you basically do it for her?”

Yn blinks. Are we reminiscing about the past, then? She thinks, a nasty little voice in her head, though not strong enough to stop that particular loud beating of her heart. 

“You know I can never say no to her when she makes those puppy eyes.” 

The smile that appears on Yn's face is absolutely breathtaking. There's no other word for it when it just looks so... genuine. Her dimples and that little bag under her eyes don’t lie. Lara knows that better than anyone.

"You're fine. I couldn't either.” Yn nods slightly. 

Yeah, you couldn't say it to me too, that voice once again, and then Lara needs a lot of strength to let it go.

“And... what about you? Does Manon still send you hundreds of messages to update you about her day?” Lara asks because, Jesus, she misses Manon so much. 

“Not as much as before, unfortunately,” Yn says with a shrug. “She's got a girlfriend now. Someone better to do the job.”

“Sorry, but I think she kind of did that with everyone,” Lara smiles softly at the memory of having lots and lots of photos of Manon in her gallery because the girl always made a point of sending them. And who exactly was Lara to deny something as sweet as that? “Never getting tired of talking and stuff.”

“Oh, did she used to text you too?” Yn frowns. 

“Every day.” 

Yn makes that expression of when she's disappointed about something, though never serious enough. Lara feels like she could die at the very moment. “Ah, and I thought I was the only one.”

You were for me, oh, the voice decided to be sensitive for the first time. Something is happening, then.

Well, maybe this is what happens when you suddenly run into your ex-girlfriend who you broke up with less than five months ago. Actually, Lara hadn't even had a chance to properly celebrate another month that had passed since that, because there is still a week to go before it's really five months. In any case, she could hardly call it a celebration, considering that it would probably consist of her crying more and more about the break-up she hadn't gotten over. 

Not that she'd ever thought she could get over Yn. Not that she'd ever thought she could break up with Yn, but there they are, and actually all Lara wants to do is kiss her on the lips and taste the coffee she'd just started drinking. Lara is still sure it would be sweet even with just a dose of vanilla syrup. 

But no. She wouldn't do that, because that Yn isn’t there for that. She is no longer the Yn that Lara loved so much to kiss and talk to about life, she hadn't been for much more than just five months.

She's the ex-girlfriend Yn. No longer just girlfriend. It's a distinction that Lara still has to learn to make inside her mind. 

Suddenly, it's her order that's called, and she can do nothing but pick up her coffee with trembling hands, knowing full well that Yn is watching her movements, because that's what she always does. It's still too hesitant the way they just stand there, facing each other, waiting for the moment when they would inevitably separate and then that would be the last time. 

Well, change of plans, apparently, because it's Yn who says, “Well, that was really nice, actually,” and it’s a second longer than usual before she can fully meet Lara's eyes. “Maybe we should do that on purpose sometime.”

And Lara wishes she could say that they definitely, certainly wouldn't do that. 

She can't, however, because she just nods and leaves the café with the one who should at least sound like her ex-girlfriend. Doing what should at least sound like one last time. Far from it, unfortunately. 

She already knew for a long time that it wouldn't be at all.

It's not a date. 

It's a Saturday night, no longer a Wednesday morning. It's still spring, though, just like that first time. Lara is wearing that pair of jeans that she always tries to forget the fact that Yn really liked but, well, they're really nice, so she can't exactly blame her.

She's not that worried about the way she looks. Maybe a little, maybe too much. 

It's not a fucking date. But maybe Lara wants it to be one, maybe yes, maybe no. She’s still making up her mind about it.

As she watches Yn's car drive into her street, she can't help the insistent pounding in her heart, ripping through the walls of her body. She also still can't help the small smile she's forced to give when Yn opens the door for her from the inside, and then it's only a second before she can leave the cold night behind and sit down in the passenger seat. 

The car is warm, the heater should probably have been on just a minute before. It was something Yn always did, leaving the car warm before Lara got into it, because she liked to be comfortable, but hated the feeling of the warm air hitting her. 

Well, she’s doing it again, apparently. Still on that reminiscing thing and all that, then. 

“So... where are we going today?” Lara asks softly once Yn starts driving again. Only after making sure that Lara had put on her seat belt, of course. 

Yn hums quietly, just one hand on the wheel. Lara used to think it was dangerous when people did that before she saw her do it, because then all she could think was that this is the hottest thing a girl could do, if that girl is Yn. “How about that restaurant we used to go to?” she suggests, a trace of hesitation in her voice that only Lara could recognize. 

“Which one?”

“That restaurant,” Yn licks her lips. “The first one.” 

Lara blinks. “Oh. That one.” 

It's such a short silence that she can't even recompose herself, because then Yn is looking at her slightly. Fast enough to make it shatter, not so long to break it completely—although it’s so dangerously close. She doesn't even have enough time to say something else before Yn murmurs in that tone of voice that has always been just for Lara: “But we can always go somewhere else if you want.” 

Lara chuckles silently. The old Yn would never say that, because she was the one who always made sure to plan all their dates, with no exceptions. Lara trusted her blindly, and her expectations were never broken. Perhaps she still does, even after everything.

“No, it's okay,” She reaffirms, glancing at Yn as she focuses on the road again. It’s much easier to do that when she isn't looking back. “Won't that be too nostalgic, though?”

Yn seems to take a second to think about it and, God, she hasn't changed a bit, still with the black hair that always fell into her eyes and that habit of biting her lower lip when she's too lost in her thoughts. Lara didn’t expect her to change, because it's only been five months, but there's always that type of person who, after a break-up, dyes their hair or changes their style or gets a piercing. Not Yn, though. She's still just the same as before—although Lara thinks she wouldn't look bad with an eyebrow piercing. 

"Maybe,” Yn says after a moment, so quietly that Lara wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been so focused on her in the first place. “but let’s do it anyway.”

And, as always, This girl can do nothing but agree. Accept. Because what exactly would she do for that person who never stopped looking like the girl she fell in love with and promised to keep doing so for the rest of her life?

When they finally arrive at the restaurant, she can be sure that her mind starts to combust with all the deja-vu invading her head without warning. It's a complete avalanche as soon as she and Yn ask for a table for two and instinctively choose that particular corner of the room. And Jesus Christ, Lara should have denied it, she shouldn't have been there, not in that restaurant, not with Yn, not with any of that—

It's a date, she realizes when suddenly everything leads them to that same old table that is always empty, just waiting for them.

Yn pulls out the chair for her to sit on and they both smile. The waiter comes and they order what they, again, always used to. They talk about something meaningless, about the present, about the future, all seeming too sensitive to touch open wounds like the past. Still, Lara can't help but notice the way a lock of hair keeps falling into Yn's face, and she needs too much strength to stop that desperate impulse of her to just lean in a little and—

Look, Lara never considered herself a particularly strong person. She's lazy and doesn't like working out, her favorite weekend activity is watching bad romantic comedies and sleeping. She always hated having to carry heavy things, whether it’s her own home furniture or bags from the market. Just like her physique, she never expected her mind to be strong—in fact, it might even be weaker. 

The point is, Lara doesn't know how to stop it all from happening. All of it, from start to finish. She doesn't know how to stop her eyes from always falling on Yn after a pause in their conversation, seeming to hesitate about it in a way that they never, ever did. She doesn't know how to stop her heart from beating so fast after months of feeling completely frozen—she doesn't know how to stop wondering about all those things, about what was and what could have been. God, they'd never had to doubt anything between them for years, but then everything seemed so damned lost overnight. 

Well, not really, and she knows it. She's there, with Yn, and it doesn't seem as lost as before. Maybe they have found each other after all, but at what cost?

Because they are in that same restaurant, at that same table. They had been there a thousand times, because she loves the meat and Yn loves anything Lara loves. Because that was the place of their first date, and what happened afterwards was also one of the many... first times they had with each other. 

That's another first, then. The first date after the break-up. Just as miserable as the whole story. 

Sometimes all Lara really, truly wants, without second thoughts or hesitations, is for her and Yn to just exist. To forget everything and skinny dip in water under the bridge. In what they had always done so well together. 

And Lara is resilient most of the time, but she's sinking with the ship when suddenly Yn says, “What are you thinking about?”

She blinks, realizing she has been silent for too long. “Just... you know, it's been a long time since I last came here. Everything looks the same, though.”

“Really? You've never been here on your own?” Yn asks and she looks so innocent. Lara can't even get mad about it. 

She just snorts, taking a soft sip from her glass of water which serves as a distraction from having to stare into Yn's eyes, too focused on the liquid. “You know I didn't.”

“Why’s that?”

She needs a second more. Perhaps an eternity. “It reminds me of you. Here. I just... thought it wouldn't make sense if I wasn't with you.” 

Yn opens and closes her mouth a few times, so disoriented that she swears everything starts to move around her. “But you love the meat here...” she mutters, a sad sigh escaping from between her lips. 

Yeah, Lara thinks, and it's a melancholy smile on her face when she can't look away. But I love you more. 

Shs doesn't bother answering after that, because then the food arrives. Just to add to all those thoughts in Lara's brain, she can be sure that the waiter is the same as the one from the first time. From the first date. It's something that would make her just walk out and plan her suicide if she didn't, in fact, love meat.

It's easier to take it while they're eating, even though she can't help but notice the way Yn looks at her, her eyes full of admiration as she watches Lara enjoying her favorite meal. Well, Yn can't help but do that, so it’s okay. 

Somewhere between all that, as always, it's really suddenly the way she just lets her gaze linger on the red-haired girl for too long when she asks, again, very suddenly, “Do you remember that time we made a video to our futures selves?”

Lara blinks, and if the grip of her fingers on the fork hadn't been so strong it would probably have fallen straight onto her plate. She doesn't know if she's liking this reminiscing about the past thing anymore. 

“Yeah. I guess I must have it saved somewhere,” she replies softly, trying to sound casual. She knows exactly where that video is, though. That album in her phone gallery named with a simple (yet devastating) “gf <3” that, even after five months, she has been unable to delete. 

And she has never been able to delete any of it, in fact. When they messaged each other to arrange that “date”, the last texts were still saved in the chat, ghosts hanging around.

“Do you... remember what you said?” Yn asks, hesitation leaking down her throat, falling through her words. It didn't take long for Lara to notice that her cheeks are starting to turn that shade of pink, but maybe it’s just—maybe it’s just the natural color of it. 

Lara smiles sadly, her heart heavy in her chest. “I think I said I wanted to marry you,” she murmurs and doesn't have the courage to look at her ex's eyes at the moment, already knowing that there is that same glint as before. “Silly, isn't it?”

“Not much,” Yn swallows dryly, playing with her fingers in that nervous way. The blush on her face has stopped being natural for quite some time. “It used to make sense at the time, I guess.”

I think it never stopped doing so, is a ponderous thought that Lara lets invade her mind.

“yeah,” Lara's lips curve wistfully. “What about you?”

Yn smiles and it looks sincere. She's always been terrible at hiding her emotions anyway. “I told you that you suited me well. Or that I suited you. Something like that.” 

Oh, there it is. Lara remembers it perfectly, the day they recorded the video, the way it all sounded like a promise. She remembers when Yn pulled her closer, the cell phone still in her hand, and then they kissed until they forgot all their words and that would be enough. It was always so enough that—

Lara lets out, “You...”

“What?” Yn doesn't even hesitate. 

“It’s stupid.”

Yn snorts, something sweet that makes her dimples appear slightly. Lara has always dreamed of always making her smile and then keeping them there forever. “It’s okay. All this is stupid.”

Lara smiles too, she can't help it. It’s all so, so stupid. Impulsive and reckless, just so... them. 

 They've always been that right from the start, haven't they? Getting carried away and adoring every part of it, without a single thought about the things they knew that were meant to be. And sometimes Lara Raj likes to think that they could just take it all off and start again, but at others she just wants to carry on like this. 

Just never change the way they had always loved to be. 

“Do you still think that?” She asks, something catching in her throat when Yn doesn't let her look away. A sparkle in her eye that keeps Lara in place. “That we suit each other?

Yn blinks once, twice, and everything starts to slip away, “Maybe. Yeah. I think so.” she pauses. “I mean, can you suddenly stop suiting someone?”

Lara sighs, and all she wants to say is no, you cannot. Not us. But then she has to control herself and looks away, taking a much deeper sip of water than she probably would in any normal situation. 

“It wasn't that sudden, though.” 

She instantly regretted it, just like everything she had done before. The girl's gaze freezes for a few seconds and Lara can feel her own heart doing the exact same thing. 

“Still.” Yn whispers, anyway, because that's what she always does. 

Yeah, still, Lara's mind pulses. God, she's really starting to regret all that—not that she didn't regret everything else as well. She certainly, without a single doubt, regretted what had caused them to be there, in that same restaurant they had gone to as girlfriends, but now as exes. And yet, it didn't seem enough for her to even think about stopping it. For her to try to stop the way her heart pounded when Yn sent that message asking her out, and then she knew. 

She's never really going to stop doing that sort of thing, is she? What they always liked to call love. 

The guilt and regret Lara feels about all the previous events should be the answer to all of it, actually. Because she regrets meeting Yn in the coffee shop, talking to her, accepting everything. And this is only happening because the fact is, Lara didn't want it to happen at all. Under no circumstances did Lara want Yn to have become someone she couldn't even look at, someone she could now only miss—someone who, for so long, had been perfect for her in every way. 

She didn't want it to have changed. None of the things, absolutely none of them—and how bad is it to say that maybe Lara never wanted to stop making sure that Yn loved her exactly the way she said she did?

Because, God, now she doesn't even know if she does. Like, at all, and that's just—

“Do you,” Yn suddenly speaks up again, catching Lara's eye as she gently points out with her chin at a couple at the table next to them. “think they would think we suit each other?

Lara blinks, looking at the couple. It's a man and a woman, probably only a few years older than them. They are pretty, and they definitely suit each other, that kind of beauty that complements the other perfectly. She can't help but wonder what they are to each other, if this is their first date, or if it will be their last. She notices the ring on her finger, beautiful and shiny, and Lara finds herself wondering if she has ever thought of taking it off, putting it aside and just... existing without it. Did she ever think that one day she would be able to do it? That one day it would be possible?

Lara never thought she could. Still, the ring Yn had given her is kept in a hidden place in her room and she has never been able to look at it since what they regretfully called the end. 

“I don't think they even saw us, Yn,” Lara says flatly, but her heart skips a beat when she can't exactly look at her. 

Yn blinks at that, embarrassed. “You're right,” she makes that head movement she always does when she's upset, or ashamed, or whatever that used to make Lara automatically lean in for a soft kiss as an apology. “Sorry.”

Lara sighs, staring at her plate which has already started to empty as dinner goes on. It's not even five seconds later that she looks at the couple again, and then at Yn. At her eyes, beautifully illuminated by the restaurant lights, at her ridiculously long eyelashes fluttering gently, at her angelic expression. 

Fucking hell, she hasn’t changed at all. She's still Yn, the same old Yn. The one who hadn't even hesitated to make Lara fall madly in love with her in a pathetically short space of time. 

And again, fucking hell. Lara is starting to be really grateful for that.

“But... I do,” the words are out of her mouth before she can even think about it. 

 “You what?” Yn blinks, her full attention on her again.

“I guess they'd think we suit each other. If they saw us,” Lara says, biting her lower lip in a way that always makes Yn unable to control herself, just giving up and staring at it. It’s only a second before she realizes it and tries to look away. “Everyone thought so, didn't they?”

I think so too, she smiles softly as she watches the couple again, a bad excuse to avoid her gaze. Not that it would ever stop Yn from looking at her anyway. 

“Yeah,” Yn agrees lightly, something short and quick that makes time stop. “Some things never change, right?”

Lara turns to her, they look at each other. It's infinite, profound, as if everything is still the same as before. As if they are the same as before. 

And they wouldn't talk about it, but they both hope they are. 

They would never change. That's one thing—or rather promise— they've known and would continue to know from the very first moment they met. 

Lara was sixteen when it happened. When the two of them looked at each other for the first time and automatically knew that there was something between them that would make them happen, from the beginning to the end to the beginning again. And who exactly were they to stop something that looked so much like the fatality of their own beings? 

They became that typical high school couples. The ones who ate lunch and drank coffee together, who studied in the library and kissed in the restrooms, just because they were too shy to do it in the hallways. Yn was the girlfriend who picked flowers on the way to class and gave them to her lover, and Lara was the one who kept them all until they wilted, and then Yn would be there to give new ones again. It was the natural order of things, it was how they would always be. 

It was only at the end of high school that problems began to arise. They already had them, of course, like every other person and couple out there—like anyone who broke up, like anyone who stayed together regardless. However, they very decidedly thought that there would be nothing in the world that could make them stop loving each other, let alone something that would make them fall apart. 

They were right about one of those things. One of the many promises they would never risk breaking. 

The point is, relationships are complicated, and any minimally decent person knows that, and so did they. Living practically together, which had always been so easy, suddenly became very difficult for both of them. With the end of the semester, the month, the week and the day, they were constantly stressed, angry, very easy to fight, very difficult to fix. These were things that slowly drained them, making them lose their desire for everything they had always loved: the slow, deep kisses became quick and meaningless, the result of a habit. The times they spent hours talking about life became short minutes where they asked how the day was, how they were, and then the answers would always be the same. The warmth, which had always been so right to make them certain, gave space to the cold, which always created so many doubts.

 And although they tried everything to make it different, so that it didn't really affect what they had, well, it did, and it was just too many things to deal with at once. 

So, they broke up. Without much talking, without much logical thought behind it. They just sat down on the couch after one of the many little arguments they had during the day, looked at each other, and then it was there. 

Something that neither of them had the strength to resolve. 

They both cried, it seemed mutual. And anyone looking at it would probably think it was because there was just no more love between them, because there was no longer anything they could fight for. But no. 

The love never really died, and that was the worst part. They just couldn't wait for the moment when they would hurt each other so much that they would actually kill it. 

Some time later, Lara continued to think and make theories about it. About why everything had ended up that way, why they had turned into that. And, really, there was nothing dramatic about it, something worthy of the silver screen; it was real, human, a flower slowly wilting until it had a chance to be watered again. 

Five months passed where they were separated, waiting for the moment when they would have that again. 

The answers to all their doubts: why they had fallen in love with each other from the start, why they had never been able to stop doing it. 

It had been about four years of dating, five months apart. And still, still, no kind of ending would ever make them forget why they had started in the first place.

At the end of the night, Yn stops the car on Lara's street, in front of her apartment, and then the silence is instantaneous. 

The song that was playing before suddenly stops, letting another one start, but neither of them is paying attention anymore. They were talking about something, probably, and all Lara wants to do is beg Yn to just go back to driving, and then they would talk again and everything would be fine. 

She just wants five more minutes. She doesn't want to go home. 

What happens instead is Yn looking at her and smiling softly, something sad behind her expression as she says, “I really liked tonight.”

The smile Lara is ready to give back instantly trembles. “Me too. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for running into me in the café that day.” 

“Thanks for saying hi to me first,” Lara adds with an amused giggle soon after and this makes Yn's smile become more sincere. Lara feels like she might melt right then and there. 

“Why? Wouldn't have said anything if I hadn't?” Yn asks softly, leaning back in the driver's seat. 

“I mean, I didn't know what to do.” Lara confesses honestly. “It's good that you did, though.”

Yn chuckles quietly, playing with her fingers in her lap, smiling sweetly when she sees that Lara is watching it. “Well, I didn't know what to do either. I just... thought well, why not, mhm?” she murmurs, and then she has Lara's eyes back on her. It's something that warms her heart just like before. “It felt a bit like before when we were talking. So... I don't know. It was nice. It was all nice.” 

“I think so too,” Lara nods, agreeing softly when she feels her ears turn slightly red. And she isn't someone who gets hot easily, but suddenly the inside of the car seems to be on fire. “It's as if... nothing has really changed.”

Yn has to wait a second for that. “It hasn't. Me and you,” she swallows dryly, her voice much more serious when she can't bring herself to look at Lara completely. “Even after everything... we're still the same, aren't we?”

It's a trace of hesitation in her voice that makes Lara have the hungry instinct to just kiss her until Yn is completely sure about whatever she's talking about. Until she never has to doubt anything between them again.

“Yeah. I guess so,” she just assents, however, something quick and short that makes them both look away for a second.

Lara knows that this is the moment when she will probably just leave, go home, and then that would be the last time. They wouldn't meet again, whether in a coffee shop or in the restaurants they used to go to together that now neither of them can go to alone again. They wouldn't talk about it, either, there would be no other messages or calls or excuses for them to see each other. There would be no other time, no other end. That would be it, and that would be that. 

But no, of course not. The car doors are still locked, She is still there, Yn hasn't moved. It's a beat of silence short enough for her to have the courage to break when Lara dangerously asks, “Do you remember our first kiss?”

Yn freezes at that, as if suddenly everything is coming back to her brain more than automatically. It had happened a few years before, in that exactly same place, exactly after everything they are doing again this night. The first date, the first kiss— and then…

“Of course,” she mutters, her voice low as she still doesn't dare to look at Lara from that angle. “How could I forget?”

Lara takes a deep breath, just to have the strength. Just to have the heart for it. “You were right there, and I was right here. We were coming back from the same restaurant as now, from our first date. Then suddenly...” she allows herself to smile, Yn's hands trembling from where she can see. “You kissed me. I kissed you back, and it was very weird at first because you'd never really kissed anyone before.”

 Yn lets out a laugh. Sincere, loud, the kind that never failed to make Lara's heart flutter just as it is doing now. 

“I was nervous!” Yn bursts out, finally looking at her. her dimples are on full display and Lara has to control herself a lot not to just lean over and put her finger in that particular spot. 

Instead, she laughs too, because Yn doesn't stop, and who is Lara, if not the person who has never been able to deny any of the various paths that Yn has leading her down? 

“But... I mean, are you now?” Lara asks softly once her giggles are no longer echoing around, a very risky question given the situation. 

Yn looks at her for a second longer, a trace of laughter slowly draining from her face. Although never that little smile. “Why would I?”

Lara shrugs, hesitantly. “I don't know. You always used to get nervous around me.”

Yn swallows dryly. “Yeah. Used to. In the past.”

“Yeah, but... it could, I don't know, have been one of the things that hasn't changed either.”

 It's an instant of silence between them and suddenly the air becomes much heavier, taking much more effort to enter their lungs. Their eyes meet and that contact lasts much longer than it normally would, much longer than it should, but neither of them does anything to stop it. Neither of them seems to have the courage, neither of them seems to want to.

 “What else hasn't changed?” Yn asks, her voice trembling so slightly that Lara wouldn't even notice if she wasn't so attentive to the other's every move. 

Lara licks her lips and Yn stares, not looking away for a single second. It's so instinctive that she doesn't even have time to feel embarrassed about it. She has all her attention focused on Lara's mouth as it curves around the words, “You know what.”

Yn is a weak woman, she has always known that, but then everything becomes much more obvious when she notices exactly what Lara has been doing. Pushing and pushing right up to the edge until the moment when the other would have to take the first initiative, the first move, the first action. And surely there is no one else in the whole world who loves playing that role more than Yn.

“I know,” She whispers, practically hypnotized by the way Lara's eyes are watching her at that moment, not even trying to hide the fact that she is looking at Yn's lips too. Slow and intoxicating and so damn beautiful.

Lara isn't particularly strong either, because her lips tremble visibly when she can't look away and then everything seems to slow down. “And... what exactly are you going to do about it?”

It's not even a breath later that she knows. And, God, she's never been so happy to know about something, because then Yn is leaning in and Lara doesn't even have the heart to stop the way their lips fit perfectly into the kiss she has spent so long dreaming about. 

And none of her dreams would live up to reality, because apparently Yn is determined to make it better . When their mouths meet and Lara automatically kisses her back, it's very gentle for the first ten seconds. Just a pressing of lips as if they are still exploring new waters, mastering new places. At some point, however, Lara is sighing as she leans closer, holding Yn by the face, and then that's it. 

It takes exactly one instant and a gasp for Yn to throw her hands all over her, holding Lara by the neck to deepen their kiss. It had been a long time, but she would never forget what it’s like to kiss Yn, never forget what it is like to love every moment of it. 

“I miss you,” Yn whimpers between kisses, her eyes closed when all she can feel is Lara against her mouth, blindly searching for more.

Lara smiles at that and Yn feels it, wishing she could do it forever. “I'm right here,” and she is. god, she is.

It's intoxicating the way they get closer and closer, as if they're focused on breaking that claim that two people can never be in the same exact place at the same time. 

Well, Lara knows a thing or two about her and Yn. And one of those is that nothing is really impossible for two people who would never stop loving each other.

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Domestic!Sevika modern AU

Domestic!Sevika who always gets up earlier on weekdays to prepare coffee for both you and her. She'll tip toe around the house to avoid making noises but it proves useless because the coffee machine is super loud and you end up waking up startled anyway.

Domestic!Sevika who cooes at your bedhead once you arrive in the kitchen,wanting nothing more than to squeeze your cheeks. She'll never tell you that ofcourse,so she'll tease you with a "Who did you fight in your sleep babe". She can't even comprehend what your answer is because of how sleepy you are so she just chuckles softly before giving your grumpy self one of her trophy pecks on the cheek.

Domestic!Sevika who insists that you eat a full breakfast meal because she's a firm believer of it being the most important meal of the day. She's a gym rat so she eats very balanced meals filled with lots and lots!!! of nutrients and she absolutely wants you to have the best energy throughout the day.

Domestic!Sevika who won't leave for work until you give her a kiss,she'll tell you it's for goodluck and to give her another one so she can maximise it.

Domestic!Sevika who spends the day at work waiting to go back home to your arms, feeling the day already draining her (she's been there less than 30 minutes)

Domestic!Sevika who brings home takeouts from your favorite place!! She'll put it in the microwave and wait for you to come back home so she can eat it.

Talking about that, she can never eat dinner without you present, she says it's because she'll know she'll eat everything before you get back home,but truly it's because she appreciates your presence and knowing that you're safe and sound around her.

Domestic!Sevika who'll sometimes sleep on the couch,while watching a show and you'd have to wake her up and she'd never wake up!!!! You'll basically have to drag her to the bedroom or else she'll complain the whole day tomorrow about her back hurting!!

Domestic!Sevika who loves you very much and is genuinely so soft for you, and you can clearly see it by the way she handles things around you vs around her coworkers/friends.

Silco would call her up with a small,miniscule TINY favor and she would huff and puff and grumble throughout the whole thing. But you could literally ask her to move the couch on the other floor on a random Tuesday afternoon and she would have it done w no complaints.

I LOVE HER SMMMMM

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First ever fanfic I've posted in my life lmaoo sev is so cute I want her

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Rest easy

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i believe in vi arcane losermaxxing

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I think every lesbian who says she wouldn't date a bi woman is functionally on the same wavelength as men who say they would only marry a virgin

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Kwame Ture (Stokely Carmichael), "The Pitfalls of Liberalism" (1969), published in Stokely Speaks: From Black Power to Pan-Africanism (1971). [Full text]

Many people want to know why, out of the entire white segment of society, we want to criticize the liberals. We have to criticize them because they represent the liaison between both groups, between the oppressed and the oppressor. The liberal tries to become an arbitrator, but he is incapable of solving the problems. He promises the oppressor that he can keep the oppressed under control; that he will stop them from becoming illegal (in this case illegal means violent). At the same time, he promises the oppressed that he will be able to alleviate their suffering — in due time. Historically, of course, we know this is impossible, and our era will not escape history.

…

The way the oppressor tries to stop the oppressed from using violence as a means to attain liberation is to raise ethical or moral questions about violence. I want to state emphatically here that violence in any society is neither moral nor is it ethical. It is neither right nor is it wrong. It is just simply a question of who has the power to legalize violence.

It is not a question of whether it is right to kill or it is wrong to kill; killing goes on. Let me give an example: if I were in Vietnam, if I killed thirty yellow people who were pointed out to me by white Americans as my enemy, I would be given a medal. I would become a hero. I would have killed America’s enemy — but America’s enemy is not my enemy. If I were to kill thirty white policemen in Washington, D.C., who have been brutalizing my people and who are my enemy, I would get the electric chair. It is simply a question of who has the power to legalize violence. In Vietnam our violence is legalized by white America. In Washington, D.C., my violence is not legalized, because Africans living in Washington, D.C., do not have the power to legalize their violence.

I used that example only to point out that the oppressor never really puts an ethical or moral judgment on violence, except when the oppressed picks up guns against the oppressor. For the oppressor, violence is simply the expedient thing to do.

Is it not violent for a child to go to bed hungry in the richest country in the world? I think that is violent. But that type of violence is so institutionalized that it becomes a part of our way of life. Not only do we accept poverty, we even find it normal. And that again is because the oppressor makes his violence a part of the functioning society. But the violence of the oppressed becomes disruptive. It is disruptive to the ruling circles of a given society. And because it is disruptive it is therefore very easy to recognize, and therefore it becomes the target of all those who in fact do not want to change the society. What we want to do for our people, the oppressed, is to begin to legitimatize violence in their minds. So that for us violence against the oppressor will be expedient. This is very important, because we have all been brainwashed into accepting questions of moral judgment when violence is used against the oppressor.

If I kill in Vietnam I am allowed to go free; it has been legalized for me. It has not been legitimatized in my mind. I must legitimatize it in my own mind, and even though it is legal I may never legitimatize it in my own mind. There are a lot of people who come back from Vietnam, who have killed where killing was legalized, but who still have psychological problems over the fact that they have killed. We must understand, however, that to legitimatize killing in one’s mind does not make it legal. For example, I have completely legitimatized in my mind the killing of white policemen who terrorize black communities. However, if I get caught killing a white policeman, I have to go to jail, because I do not as yet have the power to legalize that type of killing. The oppressed must begin to legitimatize that type of violence in the minds of our people, even though it is illegal at this time, and we have to keep striving every chance we get to attain that end.

Now, I think the biggest problem with the white liberal in America, and perhaps the liberal around the world, is that his primary task is to stop confrontation, stop conflicts, not to redress grievances, but to stop confrontation. And this is very clear, it must become very, very clear in all our minds. Because once we see what the primary task of the liberal is, then we can see the necessity of not wasting time with him. His primary role is to stop confrontation. Because the liberal assumes a priori that a confrontation is not going to solve the problem. This, of course, is an incorrect assumption. We know that.

…

The liberal is so preoccupied with stopping confrontation that he usually finds himself defending and calling for law and order, the law and order of the oppressor. Confrontation would disrupt the smooth functioning of the society and so the politics of the liberal leads him into a position where he finds himself politically aligned with the oppressor rather than with the oppressed.

The reason the liberal seeks to stop confrontation — and this is the second pitfall of liberalism — is that his role, regardless of what he says, is really to maintain the status quo, rather than to change it. He enjoys economic stability from the status quo and if he fights for change he is risking his economic stability. What the liberal is really saying is that he hopes to bring about justice and economic stability for everyone through reform, that somehow the society will be able to keep expanding without redistributing the wealth.

This leads to the third pitfall of the liberal. The liberal is afraid to alienate anyone, and therefore he is incapable of presenting any clear alternative. … The liberals are afraid to alienate anyone in society. They paint such a rosy picture of society and they tell us that while things have been bad in the past, somehow they can become good in the future without restructuring society at all.

What the liberal really wants is to bring about change which will not in any way endanger his position. The liberal says, “It is a fact that you are poor, and it is a fact that some people are rich; but we can make you rich without affecting those people who are rich.” I do not know how poor people are going to get economic security without affecting the rich in a given country, unless one is going to exploit other peoples. I think that if we followed the logic of the liberal to its conclusion we would find that all we can get from it is that in order for a society to become equitable we must begin to exploit other peoples.

…

These pitfalls are present in his politics because the liberal is part of the oppressor. He enjoys the status quo; while he himself may not be actively oppressing other people, he enjoys the fruits of that oppression. And he rhetorically tries to claim that he is disgusted with the system as it is.

While the liberal is part of the oppressor, he is the most powerless segment within that group. Therefore when he seeks to talk about change, he always confronts the oppressed rather than the oppressor. He does not seek to influence the oppressor, he seeks to influence the oppressed. He says to the oppressed, time and time again, “You don’t need guns, you are moving too fast, you are too radical, you are too extreme.” He never says to the oppressor, “You are too extreme in your treatment of the oppressed,” because he is powerless among the oppressors, even if he is part of that group; but he has influence, or, at least, he is more powerful than the oppressed, and he enjoys this power by always cautioning, condemning, or certainly trying to direct and lead the movements of the oppressed.

To keep the oppressed from discovering his pitfalls the liberal talks about humanism. He talks about individual freedom, about individual relationships. One cannot talk about human idealism in a society that is run by fascists. If one wants a society that is in fact humanistic, one has to ensure that the political entity, the political state, is one that will allow humanism. And so if one really wants a state where human idealism is a reality, one has to be able to control the political state. What the liberal has to do is to fight for power, to go for the political state and then, once the liberal has done this, he will be able to ensure the type of human idealism in the society that he always talks about.

Because of the above reasons, because the liberal is incapable of bringing about the human idealism which he preaches, what usually happens is that the oppressed whom he has been talking to finally becomes totally disgusted with the liberal and begins to think that the liberal has been sent to the oppressed to misdirect their struggle, to keep them confused so that the oppressor can continue to rule them. So whether the liberal likes it or not, he finds himself being lumped, by the oppressed, with the oppressor — of course he is part of that group. The final confrontation, when it does come about, will of course include the liberal on the side of the oppressor. Therefore if the oppressed really wants a revolutionary change, he has no choice but to rid himself of those liberals in his rank.

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Young girls hitchhiking near 5th & Hennepin in downtown Minneapolis (1970s) via Mike Evangelist

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the only grind I respect is girls grinding against each other or something. like whatever the mortar and pestle get up to

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AND ITS NOT DONE!!! for 2 euro u get the nice sesbian lex that follows eheheheheh: https://luckyseven777.gumroad.com/l/zicuhs?_gl=12s18ma_gaMTA1ODQ5Nzg1NS4xNzQ1MTcxMzI4_ga_6LJN6D94N6*czE3NDk0MjgxNzkkbzU0JGcxJHQxNzQ5NDMwNTM2JGo2MCRsMCRoMA.. hope yall like it!!!! (part 1) (part 2)

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did is say 2 parts? THERES PART 3 OF COURSE (part 1)

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yuri beams ur labru

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I wanna lick that bush 🫦

Ajajahajaj i think I'm being too thirsty. You people should love Sevika 🫴🏼

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a printer error is an attempt from god to get you to kill yourself but you must be stronger and you must must must beat the printer to death with a large object like object

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So something I've been thinking about is how after Sev becomes a Councilor how she probably couldn't, or shouldn't, visit Babette's anymore due to "appearances" (we could say she doesn't give a shit about those, but her "you look weak" to Vander tells me otherwise :) ). I think there would be a more private, fancier brothel in Piltover for 'elites' (maybe not even called a brothel?) And I was wondering how Sevika would navigate that as she gets more pent up with her new status. :) Girls probably act different there too.

Sorry this is anon, my own thoughts embarrassing me. Lmao.

taking it slow

councilwoman!sevika x brothel!reader

not sure with the word count on this one!

18+ ! sensual touching, light teasing, oral / fingering (sevika!) light hair pulling, reader admires the shit out of sevika. sevika is a little shy coming here. just taking care of sevika <3 switch!sevika & reader.

i’m aware that when she’s councilwoman she has her cunt ass bob but for the sake of this fic…she has her old hair. however! there will be other parts to this so…she will have her bob back

EIGHTEEN PLUS. MEN AND MINORS DNI.

sevika was extremely nervous as she walked up to the brothel doors, a few months after the fact that she became councilwoman.

it was hard being as big as she was going out to places like these — it could ruin her status and make the citizens of zaun look weak, like she has other things on her mind. respect her less, even.

she struggled a lot with wondering what she can do that’ll make her happy, without worrying different members of the board. after all, it was her downtime to get a break. she just hated her telling her in the back of her head, ‘don’t fuck this up.’

fortunately though, the higher end brothel piltover offered was of gold status — and it seems like some people who worked as guards in the palace also frequented.

she surveyed the area, the wet air moistening by the minute after a particularly hard rainfall a few hours earlier. she took out a small bag of coins, tossing them to the brothel bodyguard at the front, a head nod from the man after he poked through the pouch and he opened the velvet curtain for her to step through.

she knew there was no way to conceal who she was coming into this place, her stature at 6 foot made her stand out like a sore thumb, along with this deep ruby red cape she wore to conceal her mech arm when it wasn’t in use too much.

she kept her eyes forward, looking through her peripheral vision to see bodies on bodies together. there were suede couches set up against the wall, some arranged in funky places to create a more intimate circle of people. tables littered with cups of alcohol, ashtrays of cigars and joints ashes out or still lit.

skin on skin was everywhere, the sound of moans reverberated over the music and to her ears, making her body shiver. she hadn’t heard anything like this in such a long time, she was worried she’d be overwhelmed with the amount of stimuli until she saw you.

standing there with a hip popped out, you had on a deep purple two piece — a dark purple leather crop vest on your chest that dipped low into your clevage, matched with a dark purple leather skirt that hugged your hips, and if you bent over enough she’d be able to see your clothed pussy. two amethyst stud earrings were in your ears, matched with a black and purple collar that was adorning your neck — the metal loop in the middle in the shape of a heart with a small diamond hanging on the end of the heart.

you wore no makeup, you were gorgeous even under the different colored lights in the brothel. she caught her breath in her throat when you looked over at her, your eyes widening just a smudge before you settled on giving her a short wave

blushing as she averts her gaze, she brushes past people in the crowd as she made her way towards the bar you were standing at. her skin was on fire being this close to you, something she didn’t know she’d ever be able to feel around someone else.

“haven’t seen you before,” the classic pickup line left your sweet lips and ran right through her soul. she perked up after ordering her drink. she nodded, an elbow leaned up against the bar table, her body moving to face you

she had to look down at you, really. you were that short to her.

easy to toss around.

“what brings you in? or i should be asking, who?” you swirl around the drink in your hand she didn’t notice you had, your eyes locked with hers as she struggled to find something to say

what the fuck was wrong with her? she’s never not been able to speak to someone, let alone a gorgeous girl like you.

after a few moments of unspoken silence, you shrug, taking a swig of your drink as the bartender pushes sevika’s drink towards her. “not much of a talker, huh? that’s okay. most people come to suck and fuck before having a drink and conversation.”

it was true, that’s the normal clientele that came through here did, even if they paid good enough they were still assholes. working in piltover did give you a pretty penny, but at what cost?

“just here to look,” sevika finally responded, her voice cracking from lack of usage. she cleared her throat before taking a long swig of her drink, the cool liquid running down her throat and into her system.

she would need a few more with how uptight she was feeling right now.

“look?” you questioned, leaning against the bar as you look up at her. “like you’re shopping for something?” she shakes her head, realizing how she must’ve sounded when she said that

“no! i didn’t mean it like that i…” she huffed, watched you shift from foot to foot waiting for an explanation. “this is just my first time coming as…councilwoman…” she whispers the last part, as if some people didn’t notice her here already.

you hummed at her response, taking it in and going over it in your mind before settling with a solution. “that’s okay, baby. everyone is new somewhere.” you laid a hand on her arm, the arm not covered by her deep ruby red cloak. she feels goose flesh pimple over her skin before she feels her cheeks burn.

you can tell she’s nervous, her shoulders are locked up, you can tell she she hasn’t shaken that, ‘someone is watching me,’ mindset with the way her eyes dart from each exit, looking at everyone in the crowd to remember a face just incase something goes sideways.

you run your thumb on her forearm to soothe her, and at first is kinda throws her off, eyes darting down to where your thumb is rubbing her skin.

“it’s okay, come on. let’s go somewhere quieter.” you say, your tone sweet and gentle as you pull on her arm softly. without her thinking, her feet started moving along with you, following you towards the back. you part open a curtain that looks similar to the one up front, revealing a long hallway of various doors on each side

you don’t say anything as you walk down with sevika’s forearm still in your hold. sort of felt like you were walking your own pet with how big and tall she was. it made your skin shiver with the amount of authority sevika held and how easy it was to get her to calm down and follow you.

“my rooms near the end.” you say, but sevika isn’t really paying too much attention. she grunts in response so you don’t think she ignored you — but she’s more focused on the other rooms with some doors left ajar and wide open.

bodies inside having sex, smoking weed, laying and touching each other. sometimes there were parties of 4+ people, making sevika’s head snap towards the front.

she wasn’t sure why she felt so…awkward when it came to sex now a days. she felt anxious most days, out of place along the seats of piltover people, wearing gold and admonishing their money towards everyone who would listen. she felt out of place, like she wasn’t meant to be here.

she also hadn’t touched another girl in months.

“just down here.” you say again, your hold still gentle on her arm as you pull her up towards your room. a sign on the outside decorated in pretty font with stickers all attatched to the door, she knew it was your room without you telling her.

you unlock the door and turn on the light, pulling her inside. there she looks at your room.

she’s met with the strong scent of rose water and vanilla, some candles look like they had been burned prior to your leaving of your room. she looks around, a four poster bed in the center with baby pink silk sheets, pillows to match and a few stuffed animals on the comforter.

there was a bookshelf that was over flowing with books at this point, she wasn’t sure if the shelves would be able to hold any longer. you didn’t have any things on your walls, explaining that even if you lived here full time — the room still technically wasn’t yours. she commented on the door full of stickers but you laughed and shrugged. “they can take the money from my paycheck.”

in the far corner you had a desk. filled with loose leaf pieces of paper and a few different ink bottles with black quill pens. on the other side of the large desk there was an alter.

candles half burned and old wax running down the sticks. there was a big pink conch shells sitting in the center with pink pearls loosely draped over the shell. around the candle and the conch shells sitting was various items — old pocket change, dried up flowers that looked like carnations and roses, a small glass jar of sand with some other smaller shells, and an over abundance of gold jewelry.

“Aphrodite,” you speak up behind sevika which has her startled, jumping gently in her skin. you come up behind her with a little lighter reaching for one of the pink candlesticks. you held the flame to the wick and watched it burn as you placed it back on the candle holder.

sevika watched the flame flicker slowly at first, before it rose in a straight line and stayed like that for a while. “she’s really nice to work with. especially while here.” you comment, taking a small gold ring from your pinky finger that was adorned with a small ruby, onto the altar right next to one of the old coins

“have you worked with her long?” she asked gently, watching your movements as you nod your head with a soft smile on your face. you walk over to your bed, curling a leg under you as you sit half on and half off the bed. sevika looks around and finds a plush chair with a blanket draped on the back in the corner of your room with a small side table and night lamp on top.

she takes a seat, keeping her arms on the arm rest and relaxing her fingers, and trying to keep her eyes on anywhere except your body. her brain swims back and forth with a long list of bad possibilities of what could happen with her sitting in a place like this.

first of all she could get her title ripped away, not like she wanted it anyways. it was situational. then she wouldn’t be able to protect her people, the ones who meant the most to her. second of all…what if someone busted her? someone called in a anonymous tip to the committee? then she’d surely get fucked.

but the way you were looking at her, your eyes soft and gazing over her figure like you were drinking her in, trying to figure her out — her heart rate slowed. she took in a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, to meet your gaze right back.

you seemed a bit startled, gasping a soft breath as her eyes look towards you and she could see a subtle red blush on her cheeks. you brought your other leg on your bed, before sitting criss cross and your hands in your lap.

“you’re pretty, you know that?” the little laugh that left her lips told you that she didn’t get told that very often. you spread your legs out before moving back against your pillows and smiling. “what?”

sevika hadn’t been called pretty in…well has anyone actually called her pretty like that?

“what makes me pretty, doll?” your breath caught in your throat at the nickname that played on her lips, her eyelids lowering just a smidge, enough for you to notice the gaze in her eyes darkening.

“well…” you get up from your bed, sauntering your way over to her. your feet were bare now in your room, the only sound in the space was the way your foot pressed against the plush carpet with each step towards her, and the soft breathing from the two of you. she swore you could hear her heart hammering in her chest.

you came to her side, your finger trialing along her exposed forearm, her eyes darting up the expanse of the skin up to sevika’s chest, where multiple straps and buttons kept her tightly in her clothes.

your fingers itched to undo them slowly, run your lips down her skin and between her breasts, just to hear how she sounded. you licked your lips before shaking your head to yourself. she wasnt comfortable with that, she didn’t seem comfortable being here in the first place. you knew that wasn’t the case, that sevika had frequented places like this before but only in zaun. but you figured being councilwoman made her tense.

you kept your finger trailing up her arm to her shoulder, before tucking in a stray piece of her hair that fell from her half bun, right behind her ear. “first of all, you smell really good.” she chuckled, looking up at you as she taps her mech fingers slowly on the leather chair. “like sandalwood, smoke,” you whispered gently.

“your eyes…breathtakingly easy to get lost in.” you trailed off as you walked behind her, your hand coming to cup the bottom of her chin as you stood right behind her head. you pulled her head back enough to look down into her eyes, her uneven full lips parted as a soft breaths escapes her throat.

she blinks at you, and you blink back, eyes trailing over the scars and blemishes that decorate her warm, brown skin. your thumb runs over her bottom lip softly, pulling on it enough to make it wobble back into place when you release it. you keep her gaze for a second, your fingers going to undo the clasp that held her cloak together.

she resisted from stopping you, knowing you wouldn’t make a move on her without asking her first. the way you were touching her, softly and gently as you list out the things you find pretty about her. her head swims full with just the feeling of you touching her skin, the sound of your voice light on her ears.

your hands come to pull the cape off entirely, hanging it up quickly on the hook next to the door before coming to her left side with her mech hand. “and this, i mean…” you trail your finger tips down the smooth gold metal of her arm. you watched in real time as the gears ticked back and forth, forever having her arm on the go. “this is beautiful.” you murmur softly, looking up to meet sevika’s anxious gaze.

you pouted your pretty pink lips, making the anxiety go for a moment as she looked at you. “what is it, doll?” she turns her head slightly as she looks at you curiously, her eyes darting between your eyes, to your nose and quickly to your lips before she snaps back to your eyes.

“can i touch you?” you ask softly, a silent permission to say no if she so desired. but the way you were looking at her right now as you moved in between her spread out thighs, your own bare thighs touching hers, she couldn’t help but nod.

you smiled gently as you grab a soft pillow from your bed before sink to your knees, your hands running over the fabric of her thick thighs. “gonna need you to say something, angel.” you asked softly , digging your nails gently into her thighs. she shuddered softly, the authority written all over your face.

“yes, you can touch me baby.” her voice is low, barely above a whisper as your eyes darken. you smile in response, leaning to give her knees two quick kisses before your hands come up the expanse of her thighs and to her pants button

you pop it open with ease, sliding the zipper down and with sevika’s help as she lifts her hips, her pants come off in one swift movement. you discard them next to you, eyeing her clothed cunt. you look up at her and meet her gaze, her eyes lids lowering, pupils widening.

you lean in, your nose bumping against her clothed clit. you inhale deeply, smelling her arousal and mail, your mouth watering to get a taste of her. you lick a soft stripe up her clothed cunt, a shudder leaving her lips as she watches you with a lustful gaze.

“can i taste you?” you ask softly, eyelashes batting up at her as she nods quickly, moving to push her boxers down before your hands rested on hers, sopping her movements. “let me, baby.” you coo, authority dripping form your tone but your gaze is gentle as you speak to her.

she feels her cunt throb at the action.

you leaned forward, taking your fingers and hooking it into the crotch of her underwear, drinking in the feeling of how wet she made the fabric. she lets out a soft gasp as you reveal her wet cunt to you, the cool air hitting her lips and making her shiver.

“another thing that’s pretty is this pussy,” you breathe out, looking up at her momentarily before you take your other hand and thumb her clit slowly, pulling the hood up just a bit to reveal the rest of her swollen clit.

her hips jerked in reaction, a grunt leaving her throat as you sat there and touched her, softly. you didn’t do anything else with your hands, your eyes just fixated on the way her cunt clenches gently in anticipation, under her gaze.

leaning in, your tongue poked out jsut enough to circle around her clit, tasting her on your tongue instantly. you let out a soft groan as you taste her, your eyes rolling shut as you position your hands to keep her thighs spread wide for you.

“fuck…” she breathes out, leaning back in her chair and moving her hips forward to give you better access to her cunt. your tongue makes slow movements, licking down her clit, her folds and to her dripping hole. you circle the tip of your tongue around her entrance, making her flesh hand come to grip the back of your head.

“don’t tease me, babygirl.” she groans as she pushes your face a bit further into her cunt. you obey her command, gripping her thighs as you slip your tongue into her cunt, warm and wet around the muscle. you moan, and you can tell she’s enjoying herself as she starts to needily grind her hips against your face

“just like that, shit…” she tips her head back, eyes fluttering shut as she focuses on the languid motions of your tongue against her folds, lapping up every single drip of slick that falls from her pussy. you could feel her arousal stick to your chin and cheeks, dripping down the chair and onto your skin.

you didn’t care, you loved how messy she was getting, her moans getting louder and deeper with each thrust of your tongue fucking into her hole. you brought one hand from her thigh as you pressed your thumb against her clit, firmly rubbing circles as you continues the assault of your tongue on her cunt

she squeezes your tongue, making a moan rip from your throat against her. she feels the vibrations of your moan rip through her from her cunt, her hips bucking against your face. you took your other hand, her legs staying spread, as you took your tongue from her hole. she whined in protest from the loss of your muscle, but shortly letting out a groan as you slip two of your fingers into her hole.

“there you go, baby. you like that?” you ask gently, peering up at her and watching as her chest rise and falls each each thrust of your fingers, moans slipping form her lips.

she lets out a whimpered, ‘yes,’ her back arching off the chair as she lets go of the armrests of the chair and right to your head, fingers digging into your hair and pushing you closer to her cunt, if that was even possible.

“pretty moans,” you moan against her as you suck her clit harshly, circling your tongue and flicking her clit as she moans out, riding your face and grinding messily into you. “you gonna cum, vika?” she moans in response, her cunt clenched your fingers as she meets your gaze, a fucked our expression across her features.

“fuck, yes, please i’m gonna cum…” he grips your hair as you feel her cunt squeezes your fingers as she cums, tasting her squirt on your tongue which made you moan as the taste, your fingers slipping easily in and out of her puffy cunt.

“that’s it, thank you vika, fuck…” you moan against her, feeling your cunt clenching and clit throbbing at the whole ordeal, how she spread for you like this in your chair, leaving herself vulnerable for you to take.

and you fucking have.

she frowns as she’s wheats you thank her for cumming against your tongue as you slip your fingers slowly from her cunt and into your mouth, sucking the digits while looking up at her

you lower face was covered in her slick, dripping down your chin. she leans forward quickly before you can even blink an eye, gripping g the back of your head with her metal hand and her flesh hand coming to grip your chin.

she pushes her lips against yours, moaning as she tastes herself on your tongue as she pulls you closer, a shim pier leaving your lips. you felt your body melt into the plush floor below you, into her touch and lost in the way her lips felt against yours.

she pulls away after a moment, her lips shiny with spit and her slick, eyes heavy lidded as she stares as you. “my turn to list all the things pretty about you now, doll.”