#Article Forge

[articleforgereview1]

Article Forge Review

Best review about Article Forge, Article Forge vs Jasper, pricing, AI, alternatives and vs ChatGPT.

[guttersnarls]

"I think that as a songwriter, especially one who is standing in this authenticity-craving world, there are always moments where putting yourself out there makes you think, ‘Is this a little bit too cheesy’ or, ‘Is this something that people want to hear. But then I just look to my mentors. Pick any Rob Halford lyric he was putting above screaming metal appearing like it was about machinery, and it’s actually about his love life and his struggle. The same with Mr Manly Man himself, the dude of all dudes, James Hetfield, who has proven himself to be vulnerable many times in his career. He was even showing vulnerability way before with Metallica, but it was only really credited on ‘The Black Album’. That’s when it makes me realise that we are good. That’s when you just need to dare to do and dare to be ugly and say stupid things.” - Tobias Forge (Rock Sound April 10, 2025)

[tngbabe]

How Do We Define Will Riker's Beard?

I love this article.....read it & you'll understand why....

[fairuzfan]

Please consider spending time to learn more about Afro-Palestinian experiences and living under occupation while Black and Palestinian, along with Afro-Palestinian resistance efforts throughout the years. Here are some valuable articles and resources:

Articles:

In the heart of the Old City, generations of Afro-Palestinians persevere in the face of occupation by Mousa Qous

Putting the pieces together: Fragments of oral history in exile by Samah Fadil

‘Afro-Palestinians’ forge a unique identity in Israel by Isma'il Kushkush

The Africans of Jerusalem by Mousa Qous

The History Of Afro-Palestinians, Past And Present by Fayida Jailler

African-Palestinian community’s deep roots in liberation struggle by Electronic Intifada

Remembering Fatima Bernawi: Historic Palestinian fighter and liberated prisoner (1939-2022) on Samidoun

Fatima Barnawi, founder of Palestinian Women's Police and veteran prisoner, dies at 83 by Middle East Eye

On Fatima Bernawi, Women's Struggle, and Black-Palestinian Solidarity by Elom Tettey-Tamaklo

Afro Palestine: the African Diaspora in Palestine (not an article but a quick video summary of Afro-Palestinian history)

Note: highly recommend checking out Mousa Qous, the founder of the African Community Society, for his writings above all!

African Community Society of Jerusalem:

Their website— organization centered around the Afro-Palestinian community in Jerusalem.

General info about the group

ACS's instagram to learn more about Afro-Palestinian history.

Here is a write-up about the African Community Society, their impact within Palestinian society, and Afro-Palestinian history in Jerusalem specifically. Highly recommend taking the time to read this if you can.

Please take the time to watch this Documentary by Stephen Graham about former Israeli prisoner Ali Jiddah where he takes the viewer on a tour throughout Jerusalem and describes the unique struggles the Afro-Palestinian community face. He is quite a friendly guy and very funny:

[emcaffs]

ive noticed that those who center their entire personality around being authentic tend to be the same people who can't keep stable relationships/friendships. once again: empathy as identity suits the chronically online bc little is asked of you in terms of actual activism/human compassion....

[thewitchblue]

Out of all the family members, Y/N had a favourite, and it's arguably the least likely person: Tim Drake. Tim, for the life of him, can't figure out why, either. He's oftentimes indifferent towards people, and he's often too tired to care what the consequences to his actions are.

You must have picked up on this pattern and decide to fix Tim's bad habits because soon you were asking him to cuddle under the guise of a nightmare (but really it's because you heard him typing in his room at 4 am) or asking him to spend the day with you at the arcade so he can show you "how to cheat the system" (but really it's to get him away from the Batcave.) He became your favourite because you love him and care about his health.

He feels a familiar tug on his shirt and sees big, innocent eyes and knew he was going to be dragged somewhere else. He knew that excited gleam in your eyes and that bright grin so well. You hatched a plan, and all you needed was Tim, and damn, Tim is weak for his little sibling.

"What did you come up with this time?"

He asked, trying to hide the smile on his face. You shined so brightly with him next to you that he began shining, too.

"Bruce wants to host a gala but I need help with picking out an outfit. Can you help me? We can cuddle after."

How can he say no when you pout so cutely at him? He gave a resigned sigh but agreed. He hated galas, but they are especially hard on you. You were the one the reporters borderline harass because you were the bright star amongst the family of shadows and fake smiles. Your smiles were real and inviting. You were the bundle of joy the family needed in their lives.

The press eats up every time Tim steps up to protect you from the attacking questions. Sometimes, he even straight up picks you up and carries you away when the questions get particularly nasty or rude.

He would never admit that he loves that he can pick you up and just carry you away like a knight in shining armour. You never put up a fuss when he places you on his shoulders and simply walks away from the reporters hounding you.

He felt so smug about being the obvious favourite. All the photos of him carrying you, him falling asleep on your lap with a gentle smile on both faces, you tackling him with a hug and a grin on your face, the way he laughed when he fell after the tackle.

The public ate up your relationship like candy. They love, love, love to see the way you are so close and love it even more when they see it in real life. Just seeing you both out on the streets of Gotham left the bystanders grinning.

They love the piggyback rides Tim gives you, the way you chase him with a wild grin and a watergun in your hand, and all the times you kiss his cheek at a coffee shop or play fight in the park. They love every interaction. You never thought much about it. You loved Tim dearly. Of course, you are going to show it.

Tim is easily your favourite, and you don't care one bit about who sees it. You don't care if the reporters take millions of photos of Tim winning you a massive teddy bear at the carnival that's the size of you or if they write thousands of articles gushing about your sweet relationship with your brother. You both are enjoying the moment, and that is what matters to you.

Dick was jealous, Jason was confused, and Damian was annoyed beyond belief. Ew, they get it, you love each other deeply, but must you be so obvious?

Dick joins in when he can, but it's always been Tim and you. You forged Tim and you into twin souls, attached at the hip and taking on the world together.

[findrahil]

also they shouldve kept the scene in s1e10 where frmc sees the masts of erebus in shallow water off the adelaide peninsula and, realizing that the skeleton crew has sailed her here and thereby forged with their lives the last link in the northwest passage, says, ‘bravo, gentlemen.’

“more than god loves them” in s1e9 makes me fucking FERAL

[concretejunglefm]

Will you wait me out?

Summary: You were once the best of friends—maybe a little bit more—and maybe, if life hadn’t gotten in the way, things could be different now, but instead, a decade after you once knew Noah, you see his face again and find yourself chasing ghosts in the form of old memories, before finally coming face to face with the past.

Part 2 here

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really, a little bit sad a lot of pining by reader, implied old feelings, old friends, potentially high school sweethearts, lots of ‘what ifs’.

The first time you see his face again, it’s like seeing a ghost. He looks older now—his features sharper—and though his hair is much shorter than the overgrown wolf cut you remember, even in grayscale, you recognize those doe-like brown eyes.

His face sits front and center in a group shot on the cover of a magazine—a rock magazine highlighting Bad Omens as Best International Artist. Something inside you swells and flutters. Pride, you think. You always believed he would go far with his words, envied his ability to lay them out so eloquently, weaving them into songs.

Maybe if you had, too, he wouldn’t feel like a footnote in the story of your life. The bond you shared, that special something you’d been too scared to name back then—love—could have come to fruition.

The magazine sits on your coffee table for a week—unopened, but face-up—so you can glance down at him and the rest of the guys. You didn’t stick around in Virginia long enough to meet Jolly, but you’d briefly crossed paths with Folio and managed to forge something of a friendship with Nicholas—Noah’s best friend.

It takes you another week before you finally open the magazine with the intention of reading it—at least the article. Most of it’s about the music, the new album, the trajectory of it all. Then your eyes glaze over the part of the interview that touches on the recent popularity of their song Just Pretend on TikTok. He doesn’t have to name you outright for you to know what influenced it, how the lyrics were written about you. He never had to explicitly say, because you always knew.

You never really ventured into the band’s discography. You followed subtly, heard their name crop up here and there, but it seems they’ve recently broken new ground—though it doesn’t surprise you. Nick and Noah had always been talented, and with the addition of Jolly and Folio, you can only imagine what they’ve achieved.

When you finally take the plunge, diving into their music from the start, you find yourself struggling through parts. There are too many similarities about you and him hidden in the subtext of the lyrics. You make it through, even as it tears at your heart, dredging up memories you’d long since tucked away—kept safe in a lockbox deep inside you.

Three weeks pass, and you find yourself buying three more copies of the magazine: one you saw on display in a coffee shop, one from a convenience store, and one from a Hot Topic window—though that one took a bit of bartering.

In double that time, the number increases to nearly quadruple. At this point, you’re probably the sole owner of almost every copy in the city. You’re not sure when or why the collection began, but now it follows you from place to place, and in every new location you reach, you pick up another. You read them just as often, too—your first copy as beaten and battered as you feel every time you dare to torture yourself by re-reading the same passages of the interview you know will tear your heart to shreds.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go for the two of you—him writing songs about your what ifs, and you learning everything you can through the tiniest pieces of his soul he bares in his music and interviews.

The thought of it breaks your heart all over again.

Less than a month later, you’re in a new town. As you pick out a postcard for your family back home, you find yourself choosing another—for him. You don’t know what prompts you, exactly. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been on your mind a lot more lately.

You send it to the band’s P.O. box. It’s the only form of contact you have left, after being laughed at by a stranger on the other end of the phone. You had called the number listed on the band’s record label website, hopeful that maybe—just maybe—you’d get to speak to him. The woman who answered wasn’t apologetic. In fact, she seemed amused, as though you were just another eagle-eyed fan chasing a long shot. Maybe things would’ve gone differently if she had known who you are to him… who you were.

Your message is simple—a response to his lyrics:

I’m still out here. I’ll wait you out. – x

You consider adding more, but decide against it. There’s always next time. If there is a next time.

There is—multiple, in fact. Every new place you go, you find a postcard just for him. Your messages are short, pointed. You mention the things you’ve been doing—the ones you once promised you’d do together someday. You tell him where you are, even though it doesn’t matter. By the time he gets it, you’ll already be somewhere else.

Do you remember when I told you my biggest fear was roller coasters too, and that one day we’d conquer that fear together? We weren’t together, but I went—for you. For us. I threw up afterward, and all I could think about was how you’d be fretting over me for at least an hour. I always think about things like that. Your caring heart. I miss it. I miss you. – x

I went ice skating at the Rockefeller Center. I remember you once told me you’d never been, that you couldn’t skate. I promised I’d take you. There were a couple of kids there who looked like they were in love. They held onto each other as they skated. They made me think of you. They made me think of us. – x

I never told you, but I always knew you’d go far with your music. I’m proud of you. – x

I thought I saw you today. I followed the guy for about ten blocks before I realised it wasn’t you. In fact, he looked nothing like you. I see you a lot lately—in the faces I pass. – x

I think of you a lot. I only hope you still think of me too. – x

It’s confirmed: Chicago does have the best pizza. They also have the best hospital vending machine selection. (Only one night in A&E) – x

My family still asks about you sometimes. They remember you—call you my “funny friend” because you always made them laugh. It hurts to hear them call you my friend. You were always so much more than that. I’m sorry I was too late to realise it. – x

Even now, his face continues to haunt you. His ghost follows you, lingering in the memories you’re making alone—the ones born from promises you once made together. You carry him with you still. The nine magazine copies have doubled. Magazines, CDs, even a Japan-exclusive edition you found tucked away on the back shelf of a Goodwill.

You convince yourself to go to a concert. It’s not a large venue—one of their smaller shows. You’re in town, not by coincidence, so why not? You stay out of sight, near the back of the crowd, and you’re thankful you thought ahead, because when he starts singing the opening lyrics of Just Pretend, you feel your composure slipping.

You don’t make it through the whole thing.

You slip away before he has the chance to see you, bumping into someone on your way out. For a brief moment, you freeze—panicked, apologetic—until you lift your gaze and find yourself staring into a familiar face.

You’d almost forgotten the possibility of Davis—the second person Noah has known as long as Nick. You catch the flicker of recognition in his eyes and move quickly to slip past, but then you hear him calling your name.

You don’t respond. You don’t look back. You just leave and hope to God he doesn’t realise he’s right.

You’ve been checking every date since the band’s tour schedule was released. You’ve followed nearly every city with the intention of going, of seeing them—of seeing him, but every time, you back out, lose your nerve.

You wonder if maybe it’s best to leave well enough alone. Is there any point in digging up the grave another time?

At the last tour date offering a meet-and-greet opportunity, you swallow your fear—and your pride. If you don’t do it now, you never will. You saw him once, though barely. You heard his voice, and it broke something inside you. For so long, you feared never hearing it again, and now, all you want is to hear it again, to see him again. Even if it’s just for one last time, for one real goodbye.

Your hands are sweaty as you wait. He’s thanked hundreds of people before you—each calling him their favorite, each naming their favorite songs or quoting their favorite lyrics. The rest of the band mostly go unnoticed, or are appreciated by only a few. That makes your heart ache, especially for Nicholas, who you always knew to be one of Noah’s biggest inspirations—his steady, guiding hand.

Each time you dare to glance at Noah, you catch pieces of the performer’s facade—the bright smile that feels just a little too forced to be real. You remember his real smile all too well. Even his laugh sounds animated now.

It feels like watching an animal in a zoo—a monkey trained to perform. Keep the line moving. Keep everyone happy. There’s a flicker of guilt, because maybe you’re part of the circus now, too, but your intentions aren’t ill-meant.

You’re getting closer now. You start counting down the people ahead of you.

10.

You’re rehearsing what you’ll say. Every scenario you’ve ever imagined is playing in your head like a movie reel—a script you’ve prepared.

7.

But what words could ever cover the span of a decade?

3.

You wonder if it’s too late to back out—if you could slip away unnoticed.

You pass the Nicks first, unsure if either of them really registers you, but you’re too caught up in your thoughts to notice the way Nicholas elbows Folio with a subtle nod in your direction.

Before you can process it, Noah is sitting in front of you. Your mouth goes dry. You choke on the words. An apology? A hello?

You’re prompted to speak by a young man about their age, wearing a cap and a Lord of the Rings T-shirt, keeping the line moving at a steady pace—the same line you’re now holding up.

Noah hasn’t looked up yet, as if waiting for you to say your name so he can sign, the same way he has with everyone else before you. You wonder if he knows. If he can sense it’s you standing there, and when you finally find your voice, you say the only thing you can think to say—your name.

The moment it reaches him, his head lifts in recognition. His eyes widen, as if the sight of you is deceiving, and suddenly, your pounding heart is in your throat—overwhelmed with a mixture of joy, anticipation, and the distinct urge to throw up.

The only thing Noah says in return is your name—so soft it’s barely a whisper. As if saying it aloud might wake him from a dream. As if, by naming you, he might lose you all over again.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens  @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @bluehairpunklol @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @swissy23 @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @kenjipepsi1 @birdie-in-arcadia @blackcherrywhiskey @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @limerinseme @lilgarbitch @pipidoll @heyyoplayer @iconic-taurus @flowery-mess @jesuisunchaton @bloody-spades @bluestdai

[divadepreshawn]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

Summary: A case brings the past back

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader

The team was gathered for the briefing, a somewhat complex case because it involved important people, the suspect was targeting specific people, guards, lawyers and judges.

Hotch enters the room and sits next to Rossi “Garcia, what do we have?”

“Two guards and a lawyer were killed with a point-blank shot in a 5-day interval, a judge was attacked but survived, he is in the hospital recovering from surgery” She hands a folder to each of them.

“He doesn't seem to enjoy it, he's not an exhibitionist” Emily comments analyzing the photo of the crime scene.

“And he's not even targeting the number of victims, he has a specific target” Reid points to the name of the place where the lawyer was killed “This place is busy, he could have killed more than twenty people, but he didn't”

Morgan flips through the files “He's targeting authority figures, maybe a resentful ex-colleague or ex-inmate, any suspects?”

“The victims’ families don’t know if they had enemies. As for former inmates, the list is huge. About 1.46 million people have been arrested in the last 5 years in the United States, and only ⅓ of them were for minor crimes. About 10,345 people were released after their unjust imprisonment was confirmed,” Garcia says as he shows a slide with the data.

“Given the way the victims are killed, I believe it’s revenge. We should focus on unjust imprisonment.” Rossi thinks for a moment. “Do we know anything else?”

“Of the 10,345 people unjustly imprisoned, 2,300 people were released three weeks before the murders began. Of those 2,300, 1,000 people were imprisoned due to psychiatric reports. The families all went to the same company. It redid all the reports and proved that they were forged.”

“Which company?” Hotch asks, looking up from the report.

Garcia hands him a sheet of paper “Themis, it’s a multidisciplinary company, lawyers, psychologists and psychiatrists work there. After they close the case, the names of those involved are omitted from the database.”

Rossi nods “I’ve heard of this company, they’ve worked on important cases, the big judges and the best law firms only work with them, they also provide advice to some lawyers.”

Reid closes the report “I read some articles by the founder about the State×mental health, she has really interesting points about the way society views crimes and how our morals affect judgment.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, confused “Founder?”

“Yes, there aren’t many pictures of her on the internet, but she wrote many articles. She said that society fails to spread information about mental disorders and that the State also fails to consider this when judging cases. She founded this company so that everyone could have access to legal assistance when it comes to mental disorders. Which fits with the name of the company, since Themis is the goddess of law in Greek mythology. Daughter of Uranus and Gaia, the deity was the guardian of men’s oaths and the law. She was often invoked in trials, which is why she was often seen as the goddess of justice-”

Morgan touches Spencer’s arm, a silent and gentle warning that he was rambling. Spencer stops talking, mumbling a small apology.

“Okay, JJ and Rossi are going to the hospital to talk to the judge, Morgan and Prentiss are going to the crime scene, Reid and I are going to the company to see if we can get the list without needing a warrant, we leave in thirty minutes.” Hotch closes the report and puts it in his briefcase before leaving the room.

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Being a successful woman had its price, a very high price to be honest, you worked so hard to have your space and be respected in a sea of ​​men. In the beginning it wasn't easy, you worked to your limit, for renowned lawyers, judges, big law firms, at the same time you continued studying and doing research to improve yourself and be able to open your own company.

You were analyzing a report when Ella, your assistant, entered your office.

"Y/N?" She asked hesitantly

"Yes?" you hummed in response without looking away from the computer.

"Don't freak out now but there are two FBI agents wanting to talk to you"

Ok, now you were paying attention, you stop what you were doing and look at her, your head starts to go over your whole life, did you forget to file your income tax? Did someone in your family get arrested? Oh my god, did you kill someone and you don't remember?

"To me? Did I do something?" you ask panicking.

She looks at you confused “I don’t know, did you?”

“No,” you shake your head as you stand up “Did you do something?”

“What? I didn’t!” She shakes her head with wide eyes.

You sigh trying to calm yourself down “I’m going now.”

You head towards the mirror in the corner of the room, fixing your skirt and hair slightly. If you’re going to get arrested, you should at least look nice.

As you leave the room, you can see Ella talking to two men. They have their backs to you. You glance between them quickly. One of them has a sweater over his shirt. That’s cute, you think. Your gaze turns to the other. He’s wearing a suit, and he looks expensive from the way the fabric hangs on his body.

“What do I owe you for the honor of your visit-” you stop talking abruptly when your eyes land on them and you recognize one of them.

“Aaron? Aaron Hotchner?” You smile. What were the chances?

He frowns for a moment as he studies you, his eyes lingering on your sun-shaped necklace, you can see the understanding dawning in his eyes.

“Y/N?” He asks in surprise

You laugh as you nod, who would have thought you would end up bumping into your ex-boyfriend from college.

You were serious, you dated for practically four years of college. You fell in love with him because, well, he was gorgeous, smart and funny, a stark contrast to the scowling man you saw a minute ago. But to be fair he looked even more handsome now, God is that fair?

You can see a slight smile playing on his lips, though it soon returns to its previous expression.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you, how are you?” He asks softly.

You smile “I’m fine, how have you been? The last time I heard from you you were still a lawyer”

“I think I make more of a difference in the FBI” he shrugs not looking away from yours.

Yes, you know, he is the most selfless person you have ever met.

You nod, holding his gaze.

“Uh-huh,” the man next to him cleared his throat, catching his attention. “Do you know each other?” He looked confused.

You and Aaron exchange a brief look, you let him answer.

“We met in college” your tone was firm, not leaving room for questions.

Auth, just acquaintances? That hurt. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Oh sorry, I’m Y/N” you offer a soft smile.

“Cough the CEO” Ella says while faking a cough.

You scold her with your gaze turning to them.

“I’m Dr. Reid” he has a shy smile on his lips “I’ve read many of your articles on Psychology in the legal world, the one of yours about the death penalty is really interesting, I guess I never thought about it from that angle, you did a good job with the humanization of the victim. And the name of the company? Really great idea, Themis? Although I think you could call it Athena too-” Hotch lightly pats your arm.

“Spencer”

He stops talking, blushing slightly and mumbling “sorry”.

You smile gently at him “It’s okay, I’m glad someone understood the meaning behind the name.”

He gives a slight nod, looking more relaxed.

“So, why are you here?” You ask curiously, looking between them.

Hotch hands you a folder with three photos.

“We have a murder case and we believe it may be a revenge-motivated crime, we need the list of the 1,000 you helped free. Do you know any of them?”

You look at the photos but don’t recognize any of them. “I don’t know them, I wish I could help but I can’t give out my clients’ information.”

He sighs, taking the folder when you hold it out to him “Y/N, this is serious, I understand that there is ethical confidentiality but if you don’t help more people will get hurt”

Would you be a really bad person if you admitted that you didn’t pay attention to what he said? God, why did he look so attractive? Was it his clothes, his hair, his tone of voice, or the lines on his face? Maybe it was all of them-

“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” He scans your face for a sign that you understand the gravity of the situation.

“I..” you sigh “Ella?”

“Yes?” She stands up from her desk.

“Give Dr. Reid the information he needs.” She nods, guiding Spencer to her desk.

Hotch gives Spencer a slight nod for her to go with Ella, and then turns his gaze back to you.

“Thank you, that really will help.” He crosses his arms.

Your gaze immediately drops to your arms.

Why did you break up again?

“No problem.” You give him a toothless smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too.” He hesitates for a moment. “I’m… sorry about the way things ended. I was an idiot.”

Oh, yes, you just remembered why you broke up.

You loved him, but you had learned that love alone wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship. It took understanding, effort, and reciprocity. You knew that Aaron had difficulty expressing his feelings, a reflection of the traumas he carried since childhood. You tried to be patient, to fill the gaps with gestures and unspoken words, but in the end, you felt like you were carrying the weight of the relationship alone.

But that’s in the past. You were in your twenties. What did you really know about relationships? You’ve gotten over it.

He hesitates for a moment, looking down at his shoe. “I wish I could go back and fix things.”

Your heart skipped a beat. What is he trying to insinuate?

He turns his gaze to you “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but, would you like to go out on Saturday? I know a coffee shop near downtown that has that sweet bread you liked.”

Your heart melts, he still remembers.

Maybe it’s worth the risk.

You smile “I’d love to actually.”

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[nanaluvssevi]

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

University Professor Sevika x Fem reader. ₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Hi! this is the main story of this au. You can find the masterlist here! This story would continue, in the form of drabbles, short stories and headcanons.

I worked really hard in this so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!.

Kind of slow burn, but not really, they just take their time. No yearning or doubting

TW: Suggestive talk, talking about nudity, cursing, a little bit of angst, not too much tho, family issues, drug addiction, consumption of alcohol and weed, shotgunning, suggestive talk again, nudity, making out, they have sex. Fingering and Cunnilingus !reader receiving. Groping. Humping.

Also feet?? LOL. nothing sexual or suggestive but just fyi.

WC: 15.2K

Professor!Sevika, who could teach about every subject but wouldn't she just be so good at social studies and political science?.

Professor!Sevika, who was known for her sassy tone and remarks to make the lectures manageables but also for her impressive knowledge about what she teached.

Professor!Sevika, who didn’t tolerate any type of disrespect in her class, and when someone dared to disrespect her she would be the roughest and meanest professor in the whole building.

Professor!Sevika, who noticed you on the first day of the new semester, she didn’t know why at the moment but you just stood out from the rest.

Professor!Sevika, who despite her relatively young age for a professor she had forged a great and known career path. She had started teaching as soon as she could, and you could notice that in her expertise. Someone who had collected degrees like they were easy to get, expanding her knowledge every time she could. Knowledge and expertise you could notice only by looking at the way she moved around the lecture hall, how her low, deep and raspy voice for too many cigarettes captured the attention of every person who put a foot in her class. With the days you started noticing that special glimpse of pride that made her grey eyes sparkle when she got elbow deep on the class topic of that day.

Professor!Sevika, who doesn’t talk much about her but more about what she knows. Who is excited to help the moment she sees your name as the remittent of an email asking for papers or articles to read about the matter she talked about in that day's class.

Professor!Sevika, who always dressed similarly, a button up in darker colors, sometimes in a deep red or an eggplant color when she got tired of the most neutral ones, that usually got tighter around her bust and arms, with the first two buttons always loose and the sleeves usually rolled to mid forearm letting you see part of her tattooed right arm and the black color of her prosthetic left arm. Her eyes are always half covered with her glasses that rested in that beautiful nose. You never saw her haircut change; it was always in that sharp cut that went from short in the nape of her neck, leaving a beautiful undercut behind, to longer closer to her cheeks. Her slacks were always black or dark gray. Combat boots were her staple and even if she owned different pairs the dark purple shoelaces were present in each of them.

Professor!Sevika, who always was capable of keeping you hooked at her words, at the side smirk that covered her plump and dark colored lips while talking. How could you not put all of your attention to what she was talking about? There was an inexplicable energy that she radiated that made you want to wrap yourself around her and listen to her talk about anything for hours without an obvious end.

Professor!Sevika, who got used to paying attention to you, you intrigued her to an enigmatic level. Firstly, you weren’t close in age to the rest of her students. It wasn’t hard for her to notice your experience when reading your work, watching the way you took notes, and the attention to detail in every essay you sent. It made sense that you excelled in her course.

Secondly you weren’t hard to miss, at least in her eyes, without fail you were 5 minutes earlier than the rest, with the same coffee cup every time, consistently dressing in just a style that screamed ‘you’.

And lastly because of the amount of attention you put on everything she says, sevika was used to capture everyone's attention but yours just felt… different.

₊⟡.

Professor!Sevika, who was the strictest professor you had encountered in university. It wasn’t hard to imagine how hard she could be as an outsider, after all what she wanted was the best for her students, she wanted to make them excel, she was not going to permit unfit people to pass her course.

For the same reason professor!Sevika normally wasn’t kind to the idea of befriending or being close to her students. A self imposed rule of just keeping all of her relationship with students strictly professional. She knew people would tend to get close to her with the idea that being friendly would make them gain something from her, a few points here and there, or any type of advantage… She would just laugh inside at seeing the poor job some students did at the end of a semester to try and get anything she was noble enough to give them (she wasn’t noble at all, at least not with those who didn’t put in the work. After all her heart wasn’t made of stone as you could imagine, she would help the people she knew did their part during the school year.)

But… there could always be an exception, right?

₊⟡.

Professor!Sevika, who didn’t want to be surprised when you approached her before class started, but she was anyway. You were earlier than ever before, your hands occupied and your voice sounded as soft as always with a hint of something she couldn’t decipher in that moment. She never had the chance to hear you talking only to her, she was accostumbrated to listening to you talk with your classmates or when you always so cleverly answered a question in class, but directly and only to her? never had the chance to hear more than a few words, until today. Maybe what has been stopping you was her gaze, that gaze that seemed to be the only one that could make your knees tremble, and it wasn’t because you weren’t confident, you were, but it was sevika after all. The only times you directed your voice to her and her only was just as you entered her sacred place of teaching, a small cordial greeting when you entered the class and a soft nod accompanied by a “goodbye” after classes ended. A small paper bag was gripped by your perfectly manicured nails and a drink carrier that sported two cups that rested in your open hand when you entered the hall this late afternoon.

She didn’t know how you got stuck with this class schedule that was normally the least desired one, after all… who wanted to take a lecture on a friday at 4pm?, but today she was pleased with it. This class normally has the least amount of students so it tends to be more relaxed, although at the same time this is the one where the tiredness that she accumulated during the week usually gets to her.

A surprised look appeared on her face when she saw you, with a small rise of her eyebrow. She was willing to be the one who started a conversation, until you got ahead of her.

“Good afternoon, professor” The words left your lips slenderly while a soft and shy smile appeared on your lips. This might be the first time she heard your voice clearly with no other sound to interfere, now that she had heard it loud and clear she found it enticing, a sudden spark of curiosity arose in her. Only a greeting wasn’t good enough, she wanted to hear you talk more.

“Good afternoon,” your name left her lips like it was covered by slick honey. “you are earlier today” Her usual smirk now plastered on her lips. Her thin metal frame glasses were lower on her gorgeous nose than usual, letting her eyes peek from the top of them. A soft blush appeared on your cheeks, she said ‘earlier’ which only could mean she had noticed that you were here before your usual time.

“Oh! Well… I was on my usual coffee run, it’s been a rough week for all so i thought it would be kind to bring one for you. I hope this isn’t an overstep.” She didn’t know where you kept all of these words before, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. This sudden rush of confidence from your side and the detail of thinking of her made a smile appear on her lips, suddenly her tooth gap was on display only for you to see.

“It isn’t an overstep, don’t sweat about it. And thank you for this, I was almost on my way to grab a cup from those vending machines.” A short chuckle left your lips. Sevika was never used to kindness, at the end of the day her background wasn’t colourful. Everything she had made of herself was thanks to her effort, unthinkable hours spent on working and studying at the same time, sleeping when and where she could, having to endure men thinking and telling her she would always be ‘a no one’. She was used to always thinking the worst, especially coming from students, and although this time it felt different the little voice in her head told her to not let her guard down. While her mind was quickly filled with information you occupied yourself taking the cup from the holder with only one free hand. She thought about what could have driven you to do this; you didn’t need extra points on your assignments, your work was basically perfect, you weren’t failing for the same reason, so then why?.

“But those suck!” You quickly interrupted her train of thought. She blinked slowly, focusing on you. “I didn’t know what you would like so I chose just a latte, I also asked for sugar and sweetener in case you preferred that”. You said as you put everything you just mentioned in front of her.

“They indeed suck. And I don't really mind the way the coffee is made. Coffee, it's coffee after all.” Confused was how she was feeling, she couldn’t really understand it, again why?. Before she could stop herself she asked “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did” a soft laugh escaped your lips. Ah! now you’re toying with her, her own smile grew a little bit more making her gaze look gentler. “but yes, of course”

“Why?” Now you were the one surprised.

“Why?” This time you were the one asking the question.

“Yes, why?” A look of confusion appeared on your face.

“The coffee?” A small nod came from her side, a hot tingling sensation took over you, you could feel it on your naked shoulders and the back of your neck. You could feel it in your face too, probably a soft blush appeared on these areas as you stumbled with your words, she still made you nervous after all. You were grateful that you weren’t that young anymore, if you were still in your early twenties your hands would sweat and your whole body would start to tremble. After a soft sigh left you, you answered. “I don’t think there is just a specific ‘why’, you are probably my favorite professor and your lectures always leave me with this sensation of wanting to know more. I thought making a move to be closer would be great, after all I am really interested in what you teach and would love to have someone to talk about all of this and who is better for that than an academic that teaches about it.”

Her gaze softened the more you talked, her left mechanical hand held the cardboard cup close to her mouth to take a sip. After she was confident that you were done talking it was her turn. After she cleared her throat she talked in her characteristic deep voice. “That’s fine by me, after all I'm the one who reads what you write. You are different from the rest of the people in this course, I can notice your actual interest in everything I teach.”

She had also noticed your slim fingers taking notes, and the smile that appeared on your face when you where learning something new, she also notice the furrow on your brows when you were focused, and the way you bit the corner of your lips at the same time, but she wasn’t going to tell you that, it was dangerous, at least for now. What was that about a rule?.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

It never felt easier for sevika to get comfortable with someone, after a few minutes talking the hour of the actual class was about to start. You went to your usual seat, third row and in the exact center of the room, in her eyes you were glowing like a beautiful firefly in the middle of a forest of faces that blended in one dark mass. Before the class started she directed a smile just for you.

You have classes with her two times a week, Fridays and Wednesdays. A weekend and two days separating the times she would be able to see your face. Days that for some reason never felt longer to Sevika, you have grown like a vine around her thoughts.

She wasn’t dumb in the slightest, she started noticing how she felt about you on a sunday morning while her usual coffee started pouring in a cup, she was preparing her big girl to go on a run. Jaan, her blue merle australian shepherd, her little baby, the only animal that saw her softest side. When the black coffee was ready the smell brought her back to last Friday, to that softest smile and the smallest portion of shyness that had escaped from your lips while you talked. She noticed the smile that adorned her face in the reflection of the microwave door. After just a shrug of her shoulders and a sip of the piping hot cup she went with her day. She wasn’t a child anymore and neither were you, so, why would it be a problem to have a little crush?.

Yeah… it wasn’t just a little crush. Every single time she smelled a coffee she was transported to that day, every single time remembering something different about that few minutes you talked… and about the duration of the lecture and how you looked while listening to her talk… and at that disgustingly sweet smirk that you gifted her before waving goodbye. And it was going to begin being a problem if she didn’t do anything about it.

Sevika was never someone to wait for things to happen, if she needed to take the initiative she would do it, and this time it would not be different. When Wednesday rolled around you appeared in the class ten minutes before it started. A white top with a square neckline that did a really bad job at covering your chest while a black flowy skirt that would be touching the ground if you weren’t using platform shoes covered your legs. While you walked closer to her, a small slit made its presence, the slit going up the right side of your leg until mid thigh, the sight of your soft skin made her swallow hard. Before she could keep on detailing every part of you she heard your voice snapping her back to reality. “Good morning professor!” Oh she was one hundred percent going to lose her mind if you kept smiling like that.

“Good morni-” she got interrupted when a soft combination of chuckles erupted from your throat, one of her eyebrows went up with curiosity while she saw how you covered your mouth to try to stop them from coming up. “Something happened?” Genuinely preoccupation started seeping from her. You started shaking your head ‘no’ while signaling her chest.

“You… Your overshirt, you put it inside out.” The blood drained from her face quicker than ever before. She looked at her arms, noticing that the seams were showing up.

Trying to feel less awkward now was her time to chuckle, her left hand going to the right cuff to start pulling from it. She started talking while completing the work of taking the overshirt off so she could put it on correctly. “At least it was the overshirt and not the actual shirt. I don’t think it would be a good idea to undress in front of someone before a first date” Your eyes were fixed on the flex of the muscles on her right arm that looked like if she forced them a little more the shirt would rip in half while trying really hard to focus on the words that leave her lips.

“Well, you are still undressing in front of me before a first date, sadly not completely.” you crossed your arms under your chest making your breast more pronounced, her eyes this time stopped there for less than a second, but you noticed, your smirk growing every passing second.

“We should change that, don’t you think?” She copied your actions, both can play the same game, she thought. Your throat felt dry for a moment, with your eyes fixating on her biceps. Oh how good would her arms both flesh and metal feel around your waist, and her tall and broad figure towering you from behind. FOCUS!

After a few seconds you talked. “Are you inviting me to a date professor?” with a faked severe expression you looked at her. Your eyes attempting to send daggers to the stormy ones that were looking at you.

“I was talking about undressing completely actually, but a date sounds like a better first step.” Laughter erupted from both of you at the same time, she watched in awe as you tilted back giving space to your lungs to breathe so you wouldn’t choke. In her eyes you looked ethereal, like a nymph. With your hair cascading behind you and hands resting on your stomach for a little bit. She noticed in that second again that she was too deep, she was into you and it felt good to think about it. After you relaxed yourself your eyes sparkling with the wetness of tears that formed from the force of your laughing and a big smile covering your face you talked.

“I'm free for the rest of the day after this class and on the weekends, professor.”

“Today works perfectly, and please, call me Sevika.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

The weeks went by quickly, every wednesday like clock work after class you two walked together to some place close to campus to eat something, sometimes it was your favorite café when she made you know that her favorite type of coffee was just plain black coffee. Every so often you eat at that pizza place that looked like just a door from the outside but once inside you felt in another country where you talked about the love you had for any type of bread. Sometimes one of the two made something to share and went to a nearby park to eat sitting on a bench under a gazebo observing the people walking while conversations just flew by.

You talked a lot, not only in person. You had also interchanged numbers, normally talking by messages but sometimes a call would happen in the middle of the week, the days passing without her voice felt like a torture for you. Even if you enjoyed her voice in a cell phone you would always prefer those conversations face to face more. You learned more things about her in those, like that time you noticed she was only a softie, even if she didn’t accept she was, you saw it in her eyes while she showed you pictures next to Jaan, also when she also explained her name ‘soul’ and ‘life’ were the most usual connotations for it, but it was also ‘darling’. She explained to you how her grandparents came from india and that she felt the necessity of connecting to her roots, also told you about her favorite food, which to no one surprise was a indian dish her mother made when she was a child ‘Rogan josh’ she grew up with the one that wasn’t spicy but now that aspect was the one she enjoyed the most today apart from the tender lamb meat.

You also made a habit of getting half an hour earlier to class every Friday with her favorite coffee, an unsweetened black coffee, and your usual, a deep long macchiato, and an assortment of different types of pastries each week. You two made a bet, she told you that you couldn’t guess her favorite dessert after you said she was a basic woman for sticking to just plain coffee, until this moment you have failed; donuts, cupcakes, typical desserts, brownies, cookies, croissants, cakes, lemon pie, pound cake, tiramisu, every each of them was just not it. The bet was that she was going to buy for you whatever you asked (under a price limit of course), and you were a woman on a mission.

One day you saw at the bakery a beautiful bunch of just cream puffs covered with a dark chocolate, you only picked those that day, your bank account could not support you paying for 5 different desserts each friday. When you made it to the classroom with a smile on your face she was focusing on organizing something that looked like sheets of paper.

“Are those last week's tests?” You said dropping the bag softly in front of her while walking to peek from behind her.

“FUCK!” She did a small jump on her seat for the surprise before reincorporating looking at you. “why are you so silent when you enter, you scared me to death”

“Uhhh professor I don’t think it’s very professional for you to curse in the classroom.” That was probably the best trait from you in her eyes. You weren’t scared to play with her. In your eyes she wasn’t this strict monster that noticed every detail and graded accordingly, she was just another pair.

“Oh shush, yes they are, you got a 98%. What did you bring this time?” She said opening the bag while she received the cup you were handing to her.

“It’s a surprise, something basic for a basic woman.” You watched from your seat a few feet away from her as she rolled her eyes taking the red box from the paper bag, opening without much care put into it. Her eyes that before denoted false annoyance were known bright while a grin grew on her face.

“What was that thing you wanted?” Now you were on your feet with your arms raised above your head with a smile that shined proudly.

“We can discuss that lately, Sevi.” You receive an eyebrow raised while she takes a bite of one of the pastries and offers one to you.

“Sevi?” she asked, her forehead relaxing and her face looking softest as ever.

“It’s that alright?” a delicate pink covered your cheeks while taking the pastry to your mouth.

“Yes, it is… smarty pants.” Laughter arises from her while watching your face contorn on exasperation.

“Oh my god, you have to be kidding me.”

“I am indeed kidding you. What should I call you then?”

“I don’t know, you have full autonomy, just anything that isn’t smarty pants.” Another bite was made to the sweet dessert that was picked between your fingers, a little of the crem from the inside smearing in the corner of your lips. The world seems to stop when you feel her calloused hand grip your chin softly when her thumb cleaned up said cream carefully. Your cheeks tinted red watching how she took the finger to her plump lips, liking it clean.

“I think I like sugar, is it fine… sugar?” She tested it on her tongue with a grin as watching you crumble a little bit, for surprise, for confusion, for excitement, for appreciation, for shyness.

“It is fine.” When your smile accompanied hers everything felt right. She didn’t need to know you were going to scream on your pillow when you made it to your apartment and run in circles in the living room. You were just keeping your calm right now. You were going to act like the look in her eyes didn’t affect you in the slightest, like you didn’t feel your knees trembling when you heard the nickname with her gruff voice that you had grown accustomed to listening to on a daily basis. Like your heart isn't beating with all of its force in your chest. Like you weren’t falling in love with her each passing second you spent next to her.

“And just so you know, the same with black coffee, they may look simple but to perfect them you need to master the recipe.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

One day talking on a voice call you let slip that you wanted to start moving more, just to help your muscles take a little shape. She almost instantly asked if you wanted to accompany her and Jaan on their sunday runs, in an act of foolishment from your side you accepted.

So that’s why you are here, in the slight heat that spring brought. Dressed with some running shorts, the comfiest shoes you could find and a fitted long sleeve shirt with a zipper that runs in the middle of it. Sevika was helping you stretch correctly while Jaan waited expectantly watching every movement her momma did.

“Just because you’re new here we are going to go slower, but Jaan gets anxious and would want to run at some point. So we are going to stay close to the park so I can let her roam free when she gets bored of us.” She stretched her back lifting both of her arms over her head leaving in sight a little of the skin on her waist with a patch of dark hair that went from her navel down and disappeared on the inside of her shorts.

“Does she run much?” You tied your hair carefully to not let your ponytail neither too tight nor too loose.

“You are going to see yourself, don’t worry.” She took the strap attached to the collar of her dog before signaling with her head to start walking.

₊⟡.⋆

She was trying to kill you, you didn’t have any doubt of it. First she looked extremely hot in this moment: sweating with her back damp from said fluids, the muscles on her legs looking like she was an ancient Greek statue by how sculpted they looked.

And secondly and probably worst: acting like this was just light work while you struggled to keep her pace.

“THIS ISN’T SLOW, YOU LIED.” You barely screamed at her while you stopped in your tracks flexing your lower body and putting your hands on your knees trying to catch those breaths that you felt like were escaping away from you every second you runned next to her. The first twenty minutes weren’t hard, it was enjoyable until she started incrementing the pace and you started to fall behind.

A few seconds passed between your stop and a comforting hand roaming up and down on your back and a softly cooing that accompanied it. “You should have told me to go slower, sugar. Sorry, I didn’t notice you were struggling.” You straightened yourself letting her hand rest on the small of your back, a smile plastered on your lips for the feeling of warmth on your body.

Although you have grown closer day by day it was hard to get her to touch you, at least in more intimate areas. And your insides were screaming for her touch. To be able to sense the feeling of her hands on your body. The feeling of skin on skin. To be able to take her hand in yours, to observe the scars in her human one and the details on her prosthetic.

Neither of you have brought up the talk about your evident flourishing relationship, you two knew you weren’t just friends but felt scared to bring the subject even though it was obvious that you both wanted the same.

“I’m okay now. I also didn't want to make Jaan stop, she looked happy.” After you said her name you started looking for the dog watching her run across the field in front of you with her mouth open and her tongue sticking out. Carefully and without thinking about it you leaned into Sevika’s touch, making her hand move slowly to your hips sitting there comfortably, no one said anything about it. You two just stayed there and enjoyed the feeling of just staying close for a little while.

“I brought some fruit and snacks, should we go look for them?.” Your voice came out dovelike while your eyes went to focus on her face this time, a small ‘hmm’ left her lips while her eyes stayed focused on the dog.

“Yeah, but let’s just…” Her grey eyes, light like the smoke coming from an ongoing fire and glowing like a pair of diamonds, went to meet yours in an instant with her velvety and husky voice she continued. “stay a little longer.”

“Let’s go, we can walk like this, and I also brought a picnic blanket.” a small chuck left your lips when immediately after you were done talking her eyes narrowed, her characteristic smirk coming to her lips followed by a strong and loud whistle that made Jaan come back to you two in a few seconds.

“Did you say something about a Picnic blanket?”

“I did, indeed.”

₊⟡.⋆

The food was already eaten, the dog laid with her back on the grass while Sevika herself rested her head on your bare thighs, one of your hands tangled in her short hair while the other worked as a support for your weight. You three rested under the shadow of a big maple tree enjoying the chirping of the birds, the gasp of the wind, but most importantly the closeness. The calm went interrupted when Sevika's phone started ringing, a confused look appeared on her face while taking the device from her crossbody bag, a smile appearing on her lips immediately, one different from whatever smile you have seen from her before. She picked up the call quickly.

“Hi sweetie” your hand stopped moving instantly after hearing the nickname. Why is she referring to this someone with such a lovely name? Did she have a girlfriend she forgot to mention?, you didn’t even ask if you remember correctly, after all who would be flirting and going on biweekly dates if they were in a relationship, you at least wouldn’t. “Could you pass the phone? Thank you.” Was there more than one person on the other side? A crawling feeling went up on your spine, the trickling sensation making you stiffen up. “Hi. No, I’m not home right now… Yes, Jaan it’s with me… Who else?” Her eyes went to your face, you can’t imagine what was your expression right now. You surely were trying really hard to appear normal, to don’t show on your face the sensation of pressure that grew on your neck and the weight that had found place inside your chest that was making it so fucking hard to breathe.

Your hand slowly withdrew from her hair without looking at her face trying to focus on something you could see, hear or smell. You wanted to escape, to go running but as far from her as you could, you wanted to scream and cry in the loneliness of your own space without some of the most beautiful eyes you ever seen watching you. But the space you created didn’t last much longer, she changed her phone to her left hand while her right went to catch yours to keep it in between her fingers squeezing softly as a way of reassurance. “I’m with a… friend, yes Jinx a friend. No she isn’t going to steal from us don’t worry. Yes, she is pretty. No… maybe, I can’t answer that right now. Yes, tell Isha I will be there in a couple of hours. Buy some pizza if you want, save me a few slices.”

Confused was short to describe how you were feeling right now. Your mind felt hazy, you didn’t notice in the moment the call had ended or the gruff she left out while sitting normally.

“Sugar?.” You heard her voice and your eyes flew directly to her face, your hand still trapped in hers.

Before talking you cleared your throat. “Can I ask who it was?.” A nod came from her side at the same time she reincorporated. A specific expression crossed her face, it was easily recognizable it was the one she made while preparing to start lecturing. She was organizing her way to dive in the conversation.

“Will you listen and not interrupt?” You let out a doubting nod while still focusing on her. “Alright, it’s a long story, before everything, I’m sorry for not telling you before” Oh that’s it, you are breaking up before even being something. Like she could read your mind she kept on talking. “I’m not in a relationship. I will not be flirting with someone if I was taken. Loyalty it’s the bare minimum for me.” She took a break passing one of her hands through her hair. “I was the godmother of this kid, Jinx, when her father died I was the only person available to take care of her. Her older sister was… not available at that moment. I took care of her from when she was 11 until today. She is 21 now. She is not living with me anymore, at least not full time.” Her eyes focused on the look of your hands between hers.

“When she was 16 I was going back to the apartment when a little child started following me. I was completely alone on the street, no one around us. She had the softest smile of all the world, and the cutest gap tooth you could imagine. With all the heaviness of my heart I took her to a police station. Isha is her name, and she was an orphan. They tried to take her away, but I don't trust those assholes and I also couldn’t leave her with them and let her go into an orphanage. Jinx's sister it’s called Vi, it took a long time for me to grow kind to her. Her girlfriend was a student of Social Work and she was also at Law School at the time. She also comes from this big rich family. After a few calls I was taking her as a foster child. I was already able to take on foster kids, for all of what happened with Jinx.”

She took a break to look at you, she was expecting you to go up and run away with a quick ‘Sorry, I can’t make this.’, after all you were still younger than her and probably would probably prefer to be with someone who didn’t already have two children. She wasn’t expecting you to have the most understanding eyes and a comforting smile plastered on your face, no pity, just pure sympathy and understandment. So she continued. “She was almost four years old at the moment, no one knows how or why she was on the streets alone that day, but I'm glad I was the one that she decided to follow. She is now nine, she doesn’t like to talk much, she has selective mutism, only talks when she is really happy and when you answer a call, she finds joy when you say ‘Hi’ to her on the phone.”

You don’t know at what moment your whole body relaxed and both of your hands were on hers admiring her profusely with a grin on your face. You also don’t know what possessed you in that second to say what you said. “Can I kiss you?.” The pure shock on Sevika’s face lasted less than a second before both of her hands were on the side of your face pulling you in a kiss. It was all you could wish from a first kiss with her, the movement of her plump lips on yours made you gasped, your hands resting on her thighs while you rearranged your position to till yourself closer to her, the softness of her touch made you feel hazy, the warm of her lips and the daintiness of her touch make you feel like you could crumble at any second on her hands. Your brain went quiet the second her lips touched yours all preoccupation you had before had already dissipated in the air. The soft scent that was so her covering all of your senses, woody tones that mixed wonderfully with a rich jasmine and a little touch of what you read as pomegranate. After what felt like just measly seconds but probably were a few minutes you two let go of each other, one of her hands lingered on your face while the other stayed put on your waist, and yours remained on her shoulders, you didn’t even remember how they made it there. Soft giggles escaped both of your lips almost in unison.

“You are so beautiful.” Her thumb brushed your cheek with care while you closed your eyes and tilted your head to feel her closer.

“I can say the same thing about you.” humming came from her side before her lips left a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I don’t think today it’s the moment because it’s a lot of information to explain, but I understand you. My two younger sisters are like my own children. I think all of this just makes me fall even deeper for you.

“Are you falling for me? It isn’t so professional of me to let a student fall for me, sweetheart.” Your eyes opened again with an inquiring look on your face, meeting a mischievous smile on her face that made you roll your eyes.

“You exasperate me, you know that?.”

“Oh I know, but now I also know you are falling for me while I already fell for you.” An affectionate grin came from you this time while you closed the distance between the two of you once again.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You were officially dating now. It came up naturally during lunch together at her house, the conversation went so easy that you almost got undressed in front of her of how hot she sounded. There isn’t a label yet, but everything has worked beautifully.

Although you were dating your actual professor in class she would still treat you like what you were in that second: her student. She still graded you like each one of her students, your tests weren’t easier just because you two spent hours making out on your couch, or because you have spent a few nights just sleeping over at her place. In class you answered the question as always, and did your research how you would before dating her. And it felt nice, it felt nice to have someone you could count on, someone to kiss, to spend time with, but also to care for someone that was such a good teacher, to see her do what she loved and appreciate every constructive critic to your work, because being with her felt like she was making you a better person.

And she felt the same. She felt safe around you, she started to understand herself more being by your side. She understood she was able to give love and to receive it, she was able to be given kindness, and softness. She learned that she could talk about her little family, and that it shouldn’t be a turn off or a reason to stop caring about her. She would say that with you it went the other way around, you were interested in how good Jinx did in her last project in Art School, or how Isha was doing in her first year at elementary, if Jaan paw had healed correctly or when her next vet appointment was. But she also had a great student, someone who was always willing to learn more and to investigate even more of what she taught you. Someone to talk to for hours about this new perspective, or someone to consult when she didn’t know how to get a point across. You too were making her a better person.

Today you were at our usual Friday lecture, you two shared some sweets before class and you were still sipping in your coffee when all of your attention was on her. She was given away the last arrangements and fixes to be made on next week's paper, when she got to your seat she talked.

“Here is yours, I just put the grade on it. There aren't any arrangements to be made. You still can make changes and send it my way before the deadline and I would grade those accordingly.” You took the paper gracefully with a smile on your face. Before you could answer her a grumble was heard from a few seats back, an inquiring look was painted on her face, her usual eyebrow raised, her sharp eyes looking at the person where this sound came from.

“I’m sorry, is there anything any of you want to complain about how I manage MY class?.” Her arms crossed in her chest when her face transformed in that robust expression that could make the legs of every person in this room crumble. Yours didn’t crumble, they just got a little wet.

“We all know you two are fucking, of course she is going to get a 100% in everything.” An audible gasp came from your mouth and apparently from everyone else in the class. You were starting to stand up when she signaled with her hand that she was the one who was going to talk. ‘Hot’ you thought while sitting back down again, rage either way sipping through your pores.

“First of all, whatever goes between her and I in our private lives it’s none of your business.” She was never known as someone with a big patience and even less if it was directed to a man. The steps got louder by the second until she was standing in front of him. “Secondly, I don’t let whatever happens in my private life numb my thoughts and my knowledge, and for that same reason it doesn’t change the way I grade.” Her human hand now was in front of his face with her index and middle finger extended to be pointing at his chest. “But you know what does? disrespect. So I hope you know that you fucked your way out of this course, if you want to pass it you would have to give 200% extra of what your pairs are doing. And that I would be the strictest I have ever been in my more than 15 years of career, so you better toughen up little boy.” The furrow of her brows accentuating the harshness of her eyes. You were pretty sure that if looks could kill you he would be 10 feet under the soil. “Now get out of here for today your class it’s over, and I hope that you ask for forgiveness from your colleague before you step foot inside of my class again.” The guy who probably was less than 25 now looked like a child, trembling and pure fear plastered on his face. He also appeared to have lost every single drop of blood from his face, looking as pale as a ghost. He stumbled while taking his stuff and almost fell running outside of the room.

After he was out she talked. “Everyone can go home, today class is over. You all will get an email with today's topic and content to visit it on the time we would have been in here. To those who didn’t get their paper, you will receive the corrections between today and saturday in another mail, and the amount of time it takes for these corrections to get to you will be added to the deadline so it is fair for all. Hope you all have a great day and a great weekend.” In a matter of minutes every person in the class picked their stuff up and started getting out of the class, except you.

When the only people occupying the space were you two she walked to where you were still sitting. “Everything okay? Did whatever that asshole said affect you?. Promise to Janna I wanted to slap his face so fu-.” Before she could keep talking you took her face in your hands closing the distance between your lips. Her prosthetic arm immediately grabbed your waist while her human one went to the nape of your neck, grasping into you like you were trying to escape from her. The kissing part was nothing too new for the two of you. What was new was the force that you both were applying to it, the feeling of her hand gripping you with possessiveness, and the constant fight of your tongues for dominance. A small moan quickly got away from you, getting trapped inside of her mouth. Her teeth bit your lower lip when you separated from her.

“Fuck you looked so hot talking to him like that. Wanted to kiss you since you told me to sit down.” A chuckle escaped her when your confession touched the air, she leaned in to leave a quick kiss on your lips once again.

“Did I now? good to know you like when I get angry.” You started picking your stuff up when she started walking to her desk. She continued talking while stuffing the paper sheets on her usual folder. “Wanted to go eat with you after this, but now thanks to that son of a bitch I have extra work to do.”

You were in front of her with your bag on your shoulder. “We can go eat dinner and drink something in the night. It’s friday after all and my hot professor that it’s supposedly fucking me so hard and giving me a 100% in each of my assignments without of me putting any effort on them already left me free for this weekend.” A strong laugh came out from her and now you were being sad that what he said wasn’t real, you still were putting your energy and knowledge in your assignments and she still wasn’t fucking you.

“Well your hot professor did leave you free of anything to do, so she would accept this proposition happily. I know a place. Can I pick you up? I think nine it’s a good hour.”

“Yes you can, and it’s perfect. I have to go to the library now, so, see you in a few hours?.”

“Oh you will see me sweetheart.” A chasté kiss was left on your lips while her hand traveled to the small of your back to start walking out of the room.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Night has come, after you left the library you ran home, and started getting ready. A bubble bath was the first step, while lounging in the bathtub you took the time to see your body. You propped your leg on the lip of the tub. You appreciated the feeling of your skin, checking the scars of years behind, of little falls and accidents of a younger you. You watched the hairs sticking down, will it be ok if you shave them? You didn’t think Sev would care much about that, it would make you feel more confident though, so you did. You went to your arms next, they felt a little dry so a little scrubbing was made and a soothing butter came after. Your hair was washed after you stepped up, a deep conditioning applied on it as you went out of the shower. Your skin was moisturized with a body butter that smelled like strawberries.

Standing on your feet you looked at your toes, they maybe would look pretty painted. While letting your hair air dry after rinsing the conditioner off you started painting your nails, hands and toes, all in black. After they wew dry and your hair done in a simple hairstyle that puts your hair up in a relaxed look with two delicate curls framing your face, you start looking for clothes. Your closet wasn’t huge, and there wasn’t so much information of where you were going, picking your cellphone up you texted her, receiving an immediate answer.

₊⟡.⋆

You 19:58

Are we going to a fancy place?

Sevi 💌 19:58

Sort of.

But no need to dress too formally, doll.

There was a small break after her last message with the bubble with three dots started blinking.

Sevi 💌 20:00

One of your usual skirts should be good enough ;).

You 20:00

OK. Thank uuu.

<3

Sevi 💌 20:00

See you in an hour. xx

₊⟡.⋆

A small blush covers your cheeks, a skirt will be it then. You picked a black one, a little bit higher than middle thigh length, with a few pleats. For the top a deep red blouse with long sleeves and a deep neckline that exposes your cleavage beautifully. Although it was still the start of spring the nights were still chilly, when you went to pick a leather jacket you stopped in your tracks imagining the chance of her just giving you hers, she was always running hot after all. For shoes, black knee high boots with a few inches of platform, paired with some cream high socks under them.

You looked at the clock after you were done dressing, less than thirty minutes on the clock for her to show up. You took a seat on your desk taking everything out of your makeup bag, it has to be something simple. A dark brownish red went on your lower eyelid curving up in the corner to create the appearance of an eyeliner, blush on the higher parts of your cheeks, mascara coating your long eyelashes, and a dark cherry lipstick went on your lips. You packed the last item on your shoulder bag next to your keys, phone and your wallet.

When you were walking to apply on perfume your cellphone ringed with the special tone you have picked for her. You quickly applied your favorite perfume before answering your phone. “I’m closing the door right noooow.” You extended the last vocal while doing said action after hanging up. You took the elevator down, walking at a quicker pace to find her.

When you saw her you could hear a soft curse in the silence of the night, you felt her eyes ogling after your appearance while you walked towards her. When you come to a stop in front of her a grin emerges on her lips.

“Hi beautiful.” her right hand went to yours taking it to her lips leaving a soft kiss. The sensation of it lingering on your skin. You took the chance to get a good look at her. It wasn’t uncommon to see her in formal clothes, and you have grown to watch her in more casual outfits. Today she was wearing dark washed jeans and a deep red shirt styled the same as always, two buttons open and sleeves rolled up. Her usual combat boots are also on her feet. ‘We are matching.’ you thought to yourself. Her brown leather jacket that she took out when she saw you walking without your own was now being offered to you.

“Hi handsome. Thank you.” You said while she helped you out said jacket on.

“You look amazing today.”

���Well I followed the advice of someone who always has good styling choices.”

“Is that right?.” A slight chuckle left you while she walked you to the passenger seat of her car, she opened the door, let you slip in, and then quickly returned to her side.

“It is, she said she loooved how I looked in skirts.” Now was her time to chuckle, she helped you to put your seatbelt on and put hers after.

“Hey, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh!, you don’t love how I look on skirts?” She started the car and began to drive to the restaurant.

“I also didn’t say that. Because that would be a lie, and I hate lying.” A soft laugh erupted from you as you dedicated the time on the road to watch her. You would never get tired of doing that, of using your time to observe her, at the little furrow of her brows, at the look of both of her hands gripping on the steering wheel, just at her.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You two made it to the restaurant fairly quickly, it wasn’t that long of a ride. It felt expensive but cozy at the same time. You were sitting next to each other, both decided to take a booth that gave the chance to stay right by the other. The menus came and went easily, in the end she decided for both because you haven’t any idea of what could taste good, two different plates with the idea of sharing. You asked for a mojito and she asked for just water.

It wasn’t long when you were a few mojitos deep, the food already eaten and probably the best slice of cheesecake you have ever tried was already half eaten. You were tipsy, it wasn't hard to miss, a smile that seemed to never want to leave your lips, glittering eyes thanks to the alcohol. Your right hand on her shoulder while you were leaning into her, exposing without noticing everything under your shirt. She looked at you with an expression that if you didn’t know better would have thought was one making fun of you. Her hand rested comfortably on one of your thighs, the roughness of it making contact with the soft plump skin of your leg.

“Mmmm, you haven’t drank anything, that’s unfair.” a pout formed in your lips while your slightly teary eyes softened making you look like a poor puppy.

“Mmm, you are right, but I'm the one driving, sugar.” You stopped for a second thinking about what she said giggling after realizing the point she made.

“But that’s unfair!! I want to see you drunk!.” She took a quick look at her wrist looking at the hour, it was close to eleven, time had as always flown around you.

“We can go to my place. I have drinks there if you really want to see me drunk.” You clapped happily while drinking the rest of your third mojito and raising your hand looking for the server.

“I would love that. I think you are a sappy drunk, and I have never seen you being sappy!!.” She already knew for this first instant that you transformed into a bubbly creature when tipsy. If you asked her she would probably say you were either a horny or a screaming drunk.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

Back in the car you were singing to the songs that blasted the speakers, she has let you put your phone on the aux. You said this was like a free concert and she wouldn’t think otherwise.

���Sugar.” a humming sound came from your side asking her to continue. “Do you mind the use of recreational weed?.” You shake your head ‘no’ while sitting even more incorrectly than before, fully facing her.

“It’s only allowed if you share.” An approving smile appeared on her face as she started to park her car outside of the house she lived in.

“That’s ok by me, let’s go, we are here.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You love her home, everything screams ‘her’, the leather and dark wood furniture, the faint smell of tobacco and incense, the toys of Jaan are always in the same corner of the house. The dog slept in her own house in the backyard, being able to go in and out whenever she liked. But at the same time it was full of things that reminded you of her children. Pens, pencils, paint over a tray in the island of her kitchen. Toys and children's books on a big bookshelf reserved for them. Pictures of a smaller Jinx and Isha graduation pics of High School and Kindergarten. Drawings put against her fridge and a big painting that occupied almost a full wall. Said children sleep at the house at least three times a week, sometimes the full week. Jinx had her own apartment closer to university and to Isha school for when they wanted more alone time. After all Isha also felt Jinx as her own mom, and also her best friend, they were inseparable. Sometimes they would crash at Vi’s apartment when they felt like they needed to bother someone who wasn’t Sevika. Her voice took you back to reality.

“Ok, we have bourbon, wine, rum, and some beer. What does the princess want?” She asked while she prepared her own glass with bourbon and ice.

“If you have coke then a rum and coke. If not just straight rum.” She laughed slightly at your words while preparing the first option. You have already taken a seat on her couch sitting with bent knees making sure your shoes didn’t touch any furniture. You are still dressed in her jacket hiding your nose behind the garment to soak all of the smell.

She took the place next to you offering your glass, in the kitchen she had already drunk half of her glass and refilled it to be in a similar condition than yours. “Aren’t your shoes bothering you?” She said with genuine interest while letting her glass on the coffee table. You nodded at her question. With a few slaps on her thighs she signaled to extend your legs to her so she can help you, something you of course did. With extreme delicacy she takes them off slowly and lets them next to the couch.

“Do you want to smoke right now?.” She asked going to the small tin box that rested on the table opening it to take a pre roll from there. After you nodded again you got closer to her, leaving your glass on the table exchanging it with hers to take it close to her lips. She took a long sip from it before you put it on when it rested before. Her hand went to your lips placing the blunt between them, with a quick movement of her fingers she lightened up letting you take the first puff.

The cigar went back and forward in her lips and yours, on and off, the taste of it felt amazing mixed with the liquor and the kisses exchanged in between. At a point in the middle you ended up sitting straddling her legs. When the pre roll was close to and end Sevika’s hand went up to your chin taking a good grip of it that made your lips part. Smoking a big part of what rested slowly she let the smoke that came from her mouth curl its way inside of yours. A low moan came from you while your eyes instinctively closed.

“Mmh you shouldn’t do that doll.” Her free hand rested on your hips making sure you didn’t move. “We are both intoxicated, we can make out all of what you want but nothing else, yes?.” A pout formed in your lips before nodding, starting a kiss quickly after.

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

What you think was about two hours or more passed easily, in between kisses, a few refills to her glass and a few normal cigarettes. You still were on top of her, your hands interlocking in the back of her head, your face resting on the crook of her neck leaving a trail of soft and wet kisses from the sharp line of her jaw to where the shirt interrupted your path. Her human hand rested on your thigh, her fingers about half way up your skirt, leaving designs of soft circles. Her head tilted to the side leaving you enough space to be comfortable.

In a few seconds you stiffened up while you took your time to appreciate the smells that mixed in the air, the most notorious one being the one of the cigarettes she had lightened up. A soft laugh found its way out of your throat. Laugh that quickly turned into broken sobs. The second sevika noticed she put off the cylinder to take a grip on your face.

Her velvety voice was lower than ever. “Everything alright sweetheart?.” Humming came as an answer while her inquiry continued .

“It’s just, the smell reminded me of home, of my grandma. She used to smoke like a fucking chimney, I told her it was goin to kill her one day, and it did.” Her hands went up to clean your tears. You let her for a few seconds until you went forward rubbing your face on her, her skin, her shirt, her face trying to get that smell all over you. If you were a cat you would be purring right now. Light kisses were left on the top of your head while she pulled you into an embrace.

“Are you ready to talk about it?.” After a few minutes you took a deep breath nodding.

“Well, you know that I'm not the common age that someone ‘should’ have in the 3rd year of a career. I entered university at 18, I had an important scholarship that covered almost all of my expenses. I had to break myself apart studying to maintain it, but it was all worth it. I always enjoyed learning. Who would have thought I would end up with an actual professor that I spend hours talking about what I learn, right?.” A humorless chuckle left your lips.

“There were five children in my home. I’m the middle one, two younger sisters and two older brothers. When I entered my second year everything was going right, or at least that’s what I thought. My two older brothers already lived on the other side of the country, they didn’t have the same luck as me to be able to study.” Your hands traced senseless patterns on her skin. “My dad died when my younger sister was 2, so I was around 12. Mom always grieved his dead, for what I can remember they were deeply in love.” You left a soft sigh before continuing. “She was on antidepressants the biggest part of my teen years. I grew up seeing her as this emotionless person, so different from the one I remembered from my childhood. The antidepressants worked until they just didn’t have such a strong effect to numb all of her feelings anymore, and she decided to take on something stronger.”

“I don’t know specifically what she was in but I know that she started when I left for that semester, and when I was in the middle of it, she was already wrecked. I remember it was finals week, my grandma called telling me she was gone out and hadn't come back. My mom left my two poor babies alone for at least two days before she could go check on them, 9 and 13 years old, feeding themselves on whatever scraps of food there were in the fridge, without notifying any of us.” Your hands had transformed into fists that gripped the cloth of her shirt. She didn’t appear to mind. “I had to leave as soon as I could. Lost my scholarship for skipping a final. When I arrived home I noticed she wouldn’t come back. The only thing she left apart from wrecked stuff in her room was her wedding ring, with a note where she didn’t even ask for forgiveness.” Tears were streaming down your face at this point.

Sevika tried comforting you slowly, cooing and cleaning your tears as best as she could. After a deep breath you continued. “We moved into my grandmother’s house because we couldn’t afford rent anymore. She didn’t only leave us but also the mess she created. I started working in everything I could while also being a mom for my sisters. My brothers helped when they could, they had their own families now. Grandma was old so she only could just do much, cooking, maybe washing some clothes, everything else was dropped on my shoulder the moment she stepped out. I did my best, I promise I did. Went to every recital of their school, helped with their homework and projects, went to football games, all while maintaining two jobs at the same time. I didn’t sleep much, or eat much, well, I didn’t live much. I didn't have time for it. Got really sick at some point but I didn’t stop, I was the only thing they had, I had to be there for them.” You took a break downing whatever was left on the two glasses before continuing.

“When I was 22 she died, found dead somewhere. I didn’t investigate much more. I-” your voice cracked mid sentence, the furrow in your brows was deep and your eyes lost in the background without focusing on anything, doing your best to not cry. “I didn’t go to the funeral, or the burial. Didn’t let any tears spill in her name, I couldn’t give it to her. She didn’t deserve them.” Her hand cupped your face slowly, when your eyes catched hers you felt clarity coming from the cloudiness on them causing the dam to break. “And I hate her, and what she did. But at the same time I cared so much, so deeply. Spent nights without sleeping thinking if she was ok. I didn’t go looking for her, I abandoned her, like she did with us. It could even be my fault that she is dead.” Breaking sobs left your lips while her comforting arms wrapped around you in the most warm way possible. You don’t remember the last time you felt so cared for, where someone cuddled you instead of you to them.

“Nothing of what happened to her it’s your fault darling. You can keep thinking it is, maybe you couldn’t even change anything if you did reach out, but we will never know. You are safe now, and so are your babies. You are the strongest person I know, I don’t think a lot of us could have survived like you did.” Your head rested in the crock of her neck while her hand moved soothingly on your back.

“I miss her sometimes, like a little kid. I never cared to admit it because I was so busy hating her. I miss the way she laughed, and her smell. I still haven’t been able to find her perfume. I miss the way she looked at dad. And how she was before everything happened. But I still have troubles thanks to everything, I have this crippling feeling on my body always that I feel something for someone, like I was 19 again and would be left alone in this big world. I don’t know if I forgive her, but maybe accepting that I do care for what she was will make me feel better.” An understanding sound came from Sevika while she made you look at her.

“It’s probably the best first step, baby.” A smile formed in your lips when you noticed the freeing sensation that stood in your chest. Then a loud yawn made its presence. A soft chuckle came from her side. “We should go to bed.”

“Mmmhm. Can I ask you to do something for me?” You crossed your arms behind her neck while her strong hands went under your legs keeping you raised while she started walking to her room.

“Maybe.”

“Can you be the one to change my clothes?. I think that if I stand on my feet I will fall to the ground.” A laugh came from her while she nodded.

“Yes I can do that for you, sugar.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

You were already on her bed sitting with your legs on the border of the mattress. “I didn’t think the first time I would be undressing you was to dress you again.” A drunk giggle came from you.

“What a waste hmm?.” You put your arms above your head while both of her hands got busy lifting your blouse up. Revealing a lacy black bra that cupped your tits perfectly. A side smirk came to her lips while she took the time to pass her fingers over the border of the clothing item, you felt the sensation of her cold metal hand and the roughness and heat of her human one.

“Hello to you two.” maybe it was the alcohol but you felt bubbly letting her appreciate and care for your body. Your hands went to the mattress slightly behind you so you can extend back letting her eyes roam over you. “Foot up darling.” Softly she took your socks giving a short massage to your feet followed by a little kiss, she did the same on the other one. “Hmm, how should I take your skirt off darling.” She asked more to herself while her fingers fumble with the zipper, slowly letting it go. “Rise your hips baby.” You followed her order without saying a word . The cloth left your legs leaving you only in the matching set you have put in case something else happened. And although it wasn’t what you expected you were still enjoying it. She took a step back to be able to observe every detail of your body. The softness on your skin, the stretch marks that cover your hips and part of your tummy. The freckles on your chest, and whatever birthmark she could pick up. “You are so pretty.” She came closer to leave a kiss on your lips before busying with her own clothes.

“Wait! Can... Can I help you?.” A grin made its presence while you rearranged in the bed, flexing your knees to be sitting on top of your calves. When she agreed your nails went to her shirt, un-bottoming it with care. When it was open you left a small gasp out, your hand touching her abdomen after asking for permission silently and being answered with a nod. Slowly your slender fingers went up, passing over her bust to her shoulders where you helped the shirt for it to roll down her arms, taking the chance of letting your hands linger in both of her biceps. Her left arm was the one with a prosthetic. She still haven’t told you much how it happened, apart of that it was a chemical burn that went to deep fucking the nerves and muscle of her forearm. The prosthetic initiated in the middle of her arm, being articulated on her elbow.

Your hands went to her belt, opening it giving you access to her jeans. You easily let it open letting it fall to her feet hearing the clanking it did when touching the wood floor, you haven’t noticed she didn’t have shoes or socks on. Your eyes went up all the way from her legs to her eyes, watching a little bit sober than before how big she was and the towering she did to your figure. Her body was now only covered by her underwear, a pair of short boxers and a gym bra. “You don’t sleep with a bra if I remember correctly.” The same way as before you asked for permission and she granted it to you. Your hand slipped to the lower elastic of the item. Your finger going under it feeling the lower margin of her boobs enjoying the sensation. In a few seconds the item was discarded on the floor next to the rest of her clothes. Your mouth was slightly open as you drank in her figure, noticing the two bars that went through her nipples, you could feel your mouth watering. “You are so beautiful Sev.”. You felt a soft kiss in the center of her chest and one over each one of her nipples, laughing when you saw them erecting.

“You are a menace.” She laughed cupping your jaw before walking to her closet to take some stuff so you can both sleep comfortably. You stare at her ass all the time her back was turned to you. She came back with a t-shirt for you and a few makeup wipes that she used to clean your face.

“Maybe. You know I sleep without underwear so you still have work to do.” A raise of her eyebrows followed by her characteristic smirk occurred while she got closer to you after throwing away the wipes.

“It’s my pleasure to do so.” Her human hand went to your back easily opening your bra in mere seconds, letting it flop out of your chest exposing it to her eyes to see. She also couldn’t keep her hands to herself and cupped both of them with the smile of a child looking at a candy shop. “Fuck you are going to make me go crazy.” You giggled while putting the t-shirt over your head.

“You still have to take my panties off.” An acknowledgment sound came from here while she help you stand up, her hands starting it’s way down in your bust taking in the shape of your waist and hips while slipping under the cloth to grab the elastic of the underwear sliding it off your legs letting them fall to the floor with the obvious shiny spot in the middle of them.

“Time to sleep, my girl.” The possessive tone of her voice made you smile while you climbed into bed again. She following you quickly after.

“Good night Sev.” Your hands rested under the side of your face.

One of her hands took place around your waist. Her chest making contact with your back and her nose buried in your hair. “Good night Doll.”

₊⟡.⋆☕ ᝰ.ᐟ

The place was extremely silent, no shower running, no clacking in the kitchen, not even footsteps were heard. You stood up walking to the bathroom, Sevika had never left you alone in her home before, so it felt strange to be habiting her space but without her presence there. She wasn’t in the bathroom as you expected for the lack of signals, you took your time to do the usual stuff you did in the morning, including a shower. After leaving that room dressed in one of her clean t-shirts and nothing else you went to the kitchen passing through the living room, still not signal of her presence anywhere in the house. If you were in your home you are sure you would start to panic at this point, but you weren’t so you tried your best to make your heartbeat go back to normal. The girls weren’t coming today for what she had told you yesterday.

You took the chance of being in her kitchen to drink a few glasses of water to help with the dehydration that the alcohol had left in your body. You were thankful for never having to live with headaches after a night out, and today wouldn’t change that. You tried to recall where your phone was, probably dead so it wouldn’t be helpful. You remembered what she said yesterday in class about sending the mails. You took a look at the electric clock that marked that it was in fact saturday. That’s it, she is in her office.

You stretched your back while walking slowly to her work place. You have been inside just two times. The first time you only stayed in the door calling for her to go eat. And the second one you helped her to organize it after she couldn’t find one specific document. When you got there you use your fist to knock two times. A ‘come here’ was heard so you did as you were told.

You opened the door slowly entering the room. It was only lightened by her desk lamp and whatever entered from her semi opened blinds. Both of these lights made her look effortlessly gorgeous, even as she was dressed in just some pants and a grey tank top and only accessorized by the cigarette that rested in between her teeths. Your eyes focused on her face. Her glasses were on and her fingers tapped relatively slowly on her keyboard. Next to her computer there were two small piles of paper sheets, one that looked like it only had a few pages clipped together while the other one was much bigger and taller.

“Working early, I see.” You walked slowly to where she was sitting standing next to her while looking at the screen.

“I’m going to make that asshole fail the class, I assure you.” Her right hand went to her face rubbing with disdain over her skin. A humming came from your lips as your hands went to her shoulders massaging them slowly. A sound of enjoyment came from her lips while she moved in the chair separating herself from the desk. “I had to leave my gorgeous girlfriend alone in bed at 8 in the morning just to do this shit because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

A soft blush climbed your cheeks while you walked to accommodate yourself in between her legs taking the cigarette from her lips putting it off on her ashtray. “Am I your girlfriend?, since when?.”

Her hands went to your hips pulling you closer to her. Her face finding a place in between your breasts. “Since this exact moment, if you accept obviously.”

Her chin was now the only thing touching your chest while her bright and full of emotion eyes were fixated on yours “You can’t look at me like that and expect me to deny that offer.” A soft chuckle came from her as her hands bringed you to sit on her lap. “The only thing I am going to say it’s that I’m still naked under this and bothered from last night.” A knowing smirk appeared on her face as her flesh hand went up one of your legs to the back of your thigh up to the plump of your ass confirming the information. Where she groped strongly while the ashy color of her irises disappeared under the expansion of her pupil.

“Then we should celebrate the start of our relationship. Don’t you think, dear?.” Your hands went to the nape of her neck, going upwards to feel the softness of her short hair tangling your finger in the longer strands.

“Hmm. I don’t know…” A mischievous giggle came from you as you pulled her hair while shortening the distance between you two. You talked softly on top of her lips making them brush against each other. “Show me how you would do it, baby. Show me how you would celebrate it.”

Before you could react her bold lips took contact with yours, the bitter taste of smoke and black coffee mixing with the bright and clean of the toothpaste. Her free hand flew to your hips accommodating you on her lap, making you straddle her. Same hand that followed rapidly the movements of the robotic one going to your free asscheek squeezing the plumpness of the skin. A soft moan escaped your lips giving her enough space for her tongue to slip in. Without thinking much apart from the feeling of her lips and the growing warm sensation in between your legs you fixed yourself on her lap, getting as close to her as humanly possible. A low groan came from her when she put pressure on your skin making you slightly grind against her.

“Sevi… mmghm.” Carefully she broke the kiss leaving you room to talk, taking the chance to appreciate your looks, the dampness of your hair, your dazed eyes, the redness of your cheeks and the pink that colored your lips for the action a few seconds ago. “Please.”

“Please what, sugar.” You heard the smirk on her lips before you saw it going into another feverish kiss that lasted the same or more than the first one.

“I need you, I need you so much, please.” You talked over her lips before kissing her again. With an insane amount of care and show of strength she stood up with you in her arms, acting like you weighed nothing. Without breaking the kiss she walked into her room. You didn't notice that you were there until your back touched the fluffiness of the bedding.

“Fuck you look so pretty begging, my love.” Her human hand went to your face caressing your skin, making its way to your chin and then your bottom lip. As an instinct you opened your mouth slightly. She took the chance you were giving her, in a few seconds your lips were around the digit, your tongue flat against the surface for her to rub on, before you circled it over the tip. Eyes dizzy on hers succumbing to the slightest pressure of her dominance. Your cheeks were hollowed sucking at the length, a string of saliva started coming from the corner of your mouth dripping to your chin. “Look at you, so eager to please. Fucking drooling for only taking my finger.” A needy moan came from you while your eyes rolled back in your head.

You couldn’t focus on anything, your head was empty. Only occupied by the feeling of her thumb inside your mouth, the filthy sounds that it made when she moved it in and out of your mouth and the growl in her voice when she talked. Your legs were now open giving her a semi covered view of your sex, already covered in slick, not like it was hard around her, just looking at her could make you go wet. After a few seconds she took her finger out of your mouth leaving you empty, as an instinct you tried to take it again when she gripped your chin to make you look at her. “Tell me what you need, doll.”

“You.” Her smirk intensified while her robotic had busied herself by slowly taking your t-shirt off.

“You should be more specific.” A pout formed in your face while you lifted your arms for the clothing to fly to the floor of the room. Her hands started rubbing your shoulders going slowly down your chest until making it to your boobs. “So perfect.” She murmured to herself.

“I just need you, I need to be yours in any way you want me, I want you to do with me everything you pleased. Sevi, please.” The neediness in your voice was palpable and it made her brain short circuit. Her mouth went to your neck attacking it. Her humid tongue danced over your pressure points and her teeth slowly took the chance to bite. Her lips apart for the kissing was being used to suck on the skin to mark what now was hers.

“You are going to look so beautiful, full of bruises and hickeys. I need you so bad.” Her voice was so deep it sounded more like a constant growling, one that made all of your skin tingle. She made its way to your bust taking the chance to appreciate them before indulging in taking one of them in her mouth, lapping her tongue over your erect nipple and putting the smallest amount of pressure with her teeth, making your breath get caught in your throat coming up as a shaky whine. With a loud ‘pop’ she let it free going to the other side to do the exact same thing. “I don’t understand why I waited so much to make you mine. What a dumb fucker.”

Her words made you chuckle. Your head went back slightly as another moan made its way to fill the room. “Baby, please.” A gruff came from her as you went to lay on your back.

“Stop being so eager.”

“But sevi.” Your legs rub together without thinking about it, seeking a release for your neediness. A disapproving sound was heard before the noise of a slap was made when her hand touched your legs, making your whole body shake opening your legs once again.

“If you keep squirming I would not give you what you need, sugar.” Pouting lips and puppy eyes looked with her darkened ones. “Fuck you look so sexy acting like a begging pup.” Your mouth opens slightly to let a shaky breathe out. “You like that huh?, being called out for what you really are?. My needy baby.” Her hands went to your legs, opening them completely, giving herself a full view of yourself. You were covered in a glistening slick that made your dark curls look delicious in her eyes. “Mmhmm. That’s what I’m talking about. I should fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see how wet and needy you are for me.” You threw your head back once again while your hand gripped the bedsheets.

Even when lust was swallowing all of her facial features you could notice all the love behind it. Before you could beg again she gave you mercy, touching you where you most needed her, an immediate high pitch moan was heard as her long and thick fingers rubbed your slits. Going from your entrance to your bundle of nerves, taking with them all the slick they could possibly carry. Same fingers left you quickly to go to her mouth, when this time it was her that moaned. In that moment you were sure you could come only from hearing her moan. “You are like a drug.” Before you could say anything you were startled, her mouth went to your sex and suddenly you were floating.

“Oh my fucki-, fuck sev.” Your hand went to her hair in a second while your back arched trying to get even closer to her face. You were a mess immediately, moans coming from you like you were singing while she ate you like a starved woman. “Baby. Oh mmhgm. fuckfuckfuck.” Your lips were open completely letting everything that came from your throat touch the air. Her wet and warm muscles move with such an experience over yourself that you felt jealous of the people that could and had gotten this before you. Her lips went around your clitoris, taking it inside of her mouth, sucking at it with strength. You haven’t even noticed the cord that laid tight in your lower abdomen before it snapped, releasing yourself in her mouth.

“So delicious baby. That’s it, give it all to me.” She talked while continuing with the back and forward with her tongue.

“You should know it’s bad education to talk with your mouth full.” A laugh was heard muffled for your own skin that covered her mouth. You haven’t completely ridden your orgasm when you felt the coil tightening again. “Fuck baby just like that.” Her two point fingers went to your entrance, introducing themselves easily for the abundance of wetness that your orgasm had left behind. They started pumping and curling inside of you getting to that specific point with the ease only someone like her could have found it. Your fingers tightened her grip while the combination of her mouth and digits took you to your limit once again. “I’m gonna cum baby.” You said so quickly that she probably could only understand the ‘cum’ part.

You put your body weight in your elbows just so you can see her better. Your legs still trembling and she without even trying to stop, not like you were even going to ask. You saw the movements of her hips grinding against what she could find. You readjusted yourself so she could have access to the first part of your leg, thanking the added pressure she moaned with her mouth still stuffed with your cunt. Her moans were enough to keep you going for more as she added a new finger inside of you. “Cum for me Sev, please. You treat me so right. Fuck if only you could look at yourself right n- Aaahgg.” You couldn’t complete what you were saying before a whine interrupted you when you came once again.

You heard the noises of pleasure that escaped her and also the panting. You felt the eagerness of her hips before a growling moan surged with her as she made you sit up to take your face in her hands kissing you. You tasted yourself in her lips as you felt her own slick covering part of your skin as she came for rubbing on you.

₊⟡.⋆

You two laughed softly going limp on the bed trying to recover your senses to start breathing normally again. She rested on top of your chest with your hands in her back, a thin layer of sweat covered your body and probably hers too.

“Who would have thought that the severe professor Sevika would have such a filthy mouth in bed, huh?” A gruff came from her as she made herself look firm.

“Are you trying to mess with me? After you came three times? Only thanks to my mouth and fingers in less than what? 10 minutes?.” A blush covered your face as you laughed loudly.

“I am. And I have no shame in admitting that my girlfriend made me cum so hard and so good more than once in less than ten minutes.” Now it was her time to laugh as she sprinkled kisses on your skin. “You should be proud of it, some people date men that doesn’t made them cum in a fucking lifetime.”

“Oh I’m proud baby. How couldn’t I when you looked so good screaming my name.”

“Shut it.” A fist of giggles left both of you as you took her face in your hands kissing her freely. “I hope you know that now I would want to have sex on every surface and moment possible.”

“Well, I hope you know that I would be happy to please every desire you have.” Her human hand was resting in the plump of your ass.

“Sevi…”

“What happened baby?.” Your eyes locked on her reflecting all of the emotions of the last few months vibrated through your body. Your hands intertwining in the back of her neck.

“I love you.” A smile that showed her beautiful tooth gap made her eyes look softer. After leaving a short kiss on your lips she talked over them.

“I love you more, sugar.”

Please do not repost my work.

I hope you all enjoyed this, my dms are requests are open in case you want to drop something about this au <333.

[dontforgetukraine]

"Through pain, death, war, fear, and inhuman cruelty, Ukraine will persevere as it always does..." Dedicated to all those who have defended and are defending Ukraine. To all those who made this day possible. Eternal memory to all those who were taken by this war. —GSC Game World Team

The release of the sequel to the 2007 cult classic S.T.A.L.K.E.R is now live. The devs, GSC Game World Team, released a brief heartfelt statement in recognition of what it took to make this game under wartime conditions. Several members of the dev team are currently in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, and two have unfortunately died in battle.

One dev, Volodymyr Yezhov, was killed fighting russian forces near Bakhmut. He left behind a brother, Viacheslav Yezhov, who remembers him saying, "Ukraine’s fight today is forging a brighter future for our children."

For the entire dev team, this game is their "love letter to Ukraine". Consider getting a copy of S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: The Heart of Chornobyl to support the devs and to support Ukraine.

To read more about the struggles the dev team faced in the making of S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2, United 24 has an article that details the challenges they faced.

[whencyclopedia]

The Legend of Sargon of Akkad

The Legend of Sargon of Akkad (c. 2300 BCE) is an Akkadian work from Mesopotamia understood as the autobiography of Sargon of Akkad (Sargon the Great, r. 2334-2279 BCE), founder of the Akkadian Empire. The earliest copy is dated to the 7th century BCE and was found in the ruins of the Library of Ashurbanipal in the 19th century.

The text, most likely composed c. 2300 BCE, and also known as The Birth Legend of Sargon, describes the king's humble origins and rise to power with the help of the goddess Ishtar and concludes with a challenge to future kings to go where he has gone and do as he has done. Sargon was the founder of the first multinational empire in the world whose reign became legendary, inspiring many tales about him, but very little is known of his life apart from works such as The Legend of Sargon of Akkad and the literary piece Sargon and Ur-Zababa.

Both pieces today are sometimes classified as belonging to the genre of Mesopotamian naru literature – the world's first historical fiction – in which a famous figure, usually a king, is featured as the main character in a fictional work. This genre appeared around the 2nd millennium BCE and was quite popular, as evidenced by the number of copies found of naru works.

The purpose of naru literature was not to deceive an audience but to impress upon them some important religious or cultural value. In the case of The Legend of Sargon of Akkad, however, the naru genre seems to have been used to establish Sargon as a 'man of the people' who, beginning life as an orphan with nothing, forged his own destiny and established an empire.

The Legend & Naru Literature

Sargon of Akkad was keenly aware of his times and the people he would rule over. He seems to have understood, early on, that the common people resented the nobility and, while he was clearly a brilliant military leader, it was the story he told of his youth and rise to power that exerted a powerful influence over the Sumerians he sought to conquer.

Instead of representing himself as a man chosen by the gods to rule, he presented a more modest image of himself as an orphan set adrift in life who was taken in by a kind gardener and granted the love of the goddess Inanna/Ishtar. According to The Legend of Sargon of Akkad, he was born the illegitimate son of a "changeling", which could refer to a temple priestess of Ishtar (whose clergy were androgynous) and never knew his father.

His mother could not reveal her pregnancy or keep the child, and so she placed him in a basket which she then set adrift on the Euphrates River. She had sealed the basket with tar, and the water carried him safely to where he was later found by a man named Akki, a gardener for Ur-Zababa, the king of the Sumerian city of Kish. In creating this legend, Sargon carefully distanced himself from the kings of the past (who claimed divine right) and aligned himself with the common people of the region rather than the ruling elite.

The Legend, as noted, is considered by some scholars today as belonging to the genre of Mesopotamian naru literature, but it is unknown whether it would have been understood that way in its time. Scholar O. R. Gurney defines the genre and its origin:

A naru was an engraved stele, on which a king would record the events of his reign; the characteristic features of such an inscription are a formal self-introduction of the writer by his name and titles, a narrative in the first person, and an epilogue usually consisting of curses upon any person who might in the future deface the monument and blessings upon those who should honour it. The so-called "naru literature" consists of a small group of apocryphal naru-inscriptions, composed probably in the early second millennium B.C., but in the name of famous kings of a bygone age. A well-known example is the Legend of Sargon of Akkad. In these works, the form of the naru is retained, but the matter is legendary or even fictitious. (93)

The extant copy, made long after Sargon's death, conveys the story Sargon would have presented regarding his birth, upbringing, and reign. Naru pieces such as The Legend of Cutha or The Curse of Agade use a well-known historical figure (in both these cases Naram-Sin, Sargon's grandson) to make a point concerning the proper relationship between a human being (especially a king) and the gods. Other naru literature, such as The Great Revolt and The Legend of Sargon of Akkad, tell a tale of a great king's military victory or origin. In Sargon's case, it would have been to his benefit, as an aspiring conqueror and empire builder, to claim for himself a humble birth and modest upbringing.

Continue reading...

[lucifersyume]

Yanderes

Ft. Lucifer, Mammon, Asmodeus, Satan, Barbatos !!

Pov: His love grew so incredibly strong, so all consuming he had no other choice. He couldn’t risk losing the one he loves. No matter what.

Possible ooc warning!

Content warnings: mentions of kidnapping, manipulation, violence, abuse of power (barbatos), stalking (Barbatos)

Lucifer

- Anyone who dares ask of your whereabouts is quickly, yet silently disposed of

- if Diavolo however was to enquire—mock sympathy and worry, even though he knows you’re perfectly safe and sound locked away in his quarters.

- He doesn’t neglect you. He leaves you your favourite foods, and when the HoL is empty, he’ll allow you to walk around

- Yes, it’s nice. But that’s all part of getting you to stay. He can’t risk losing his little lamb, after all.

- he doesn’t let you forget your place, he’s still your captor, after all.

Mammon

- Acts ignorant when he’s asked

- “Hah? you think I care where that human went? They ain’t my responsibility!”

- His brothers notice his gambling habits have decreased, and rather he’s spending ALOT more

- on what? Why, gifts for his treasure, of course!

- Huffs and hands you them. “Here, take it and be grateful.”

- Whilst you are unaware—he definitely takes small parts of any of your savings, just to ensure you never have enough to escape him.

Asmodeus

- Flashes a sweet smile at anyone who would ask and shrugs.

“Aah, MC? I haven’t a clue!”

- Of course, puts on a worried and upset front whenever your name is mentioned

- Will NOT let you go physically when he’s in his room—he can’t risk you escaping and him losing you.

- definitely gives you a makeover so you are almost unrecognisable, that way you’re always his.

- Definitely charmed other demons into either hurting themselves, or straight up manipulating them into believing that you’re fine and safe if they get too close to the truth of him keeping you there.

- Probably has a pillow of yours that is endorsed with your scent that he keeps with him, and possibly if he’s pushed far enough, a more intimate article of clothing

Satan

- Should you attempt to run away, or deny his love, you TRULY discover why he’s called the avatar of wrath. He can’t help it! The thought of not having your love is just so utterly painful to him

- He is not the type to lock you up—he’s going to get caught that way. No, he lets you stay free, and he shows his obsession in other ways. Such as taking your books and clothing, displaying them like trophies.

- Again, he doesn’t lock you up, but rather will isolate you from others by twisting situations and others words to fit his way, to make you think they dislike you, that he is the only one who truly loves you.

- if his obsession began before you had formed a pact with him, when you forge that pact he ensures his pact mark is bigger and bolder than any of his brothers. Call it his way of branding you as his own.

Barbatos

- will not hesitate to use his power to frighten you, shows you terrible looking universes and tells you that is what could happen should you leave

- breaks you down mentally. Torments you slowly, while he doesn’t outright show affection, he makes sure you know your place.

- Oh? Someone caught your eye? Who are they again? He silently wipes them from existence, destroying any timeline in which they ever existed.

- WILL ensure you are aware of his torment of any suitors, nobody is safe from this ever growing, twisted obsession the usually stoic steward harbours for the exchange student..

- It is not his preference to harm you, but you only seem to listen after he gets into your head, tricking you, manipulating you into staying. You leave if he doesn’t — and he can’t have that.

- You feel a chilling presence every time you walk around the devildom alone, especially at night. Beautiful handwritten letters appear, addressed anonymously. They give you the same chill you get walking around, that same chill you get around the reserved butler..

[novaursa]

A Flame All Her Own (dragons after dark)

- Summary: You and Daemon are accused of indecent exposure after your recent escapades in Flea Bottom.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Daemon Targaryen (with hints of Viserys I Targaryen with both of them in the past)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: faithful

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The council chamber was quiet, an unusual peace resting over the small council—until Otto Hightower cleared his throat with a pointed cough. Viserys looked up from a map of the Crownlands, brow furrowed, as Otto shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable but also eager to get something off his chest.

“Your Grace,” Otto began, clasping his hands together with a rigidness that suggested this was no ordinary report. “There is… a matter of some delicacy that I feel must be brought to your attention.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, already sensing that this was not likely to be a straightforward discussion. “Yes, Otto?”

Otto leaned forward, glancing briefly at Daemon, who sat with his feet propped up on the table, looking very much like a prince whose mind was miles away, perhaps dreaming of dragon flights and not the least bit concerned about his present company.

“It concerns your brother,” Otto continued, his tone clipped, “and your sister.”

Daemon’s eyes flicked up, a faint smirk on his lips as he lazily removed his boots from the council table, folding his arms in a way that suggested he was ready to enjoy whatever fuss Otto was about to create. “Is that so?” Daemon’s voice dripped with feigned surprise. “Do enlighten us, Otto.”

Otto’s lips thinned, but he forged on, determined. “It appears that last night, certain… rumors have circulated throughout Flea Bottom.”

Viserys sighed, looking weary already. “Rumors?”

“Yes, rumors,” Otto repeated, each syllable laden with his disapproval. “About the prince and princess being… sighted in public, in a rather compromising state.”

At this, Daemon’s smirk widened, and he leaned forward as if savoring every word that left Otto’s mouth. “Oh, do go on. I’m curious about these rumors myself.”

Otto’s jaw clenched, clearly reluctant to continue but, being the Hand of the King, he did not have the luxury of discretion. “It is said that Prince Daemon and Princess Y/N were spotted… in various states of indecent exposure, as it were, during an excursion into Flea Bottom.”

Viserys paled. “Indecent exposure?”

“Precisely,” Otto said, barely concealing the satisfaction in his voice as he relayed the details. “Some claim they were… engaged in, ah… revelries. Others describe certain articles of clothing as being notably absent.”

A cough choked out of Viserys’s mouth as he looked at Daemon, who sat there entirely unfazed, his expression one of mild interest at best.

“Daemon,” Viserys said, voice exasperated. “What is he talking about?”

Daemon shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps they mistook us for someone else.”

Otto’s glare could have melted stone. “There were reports of a silver-haired woman and a silver-haired man seen, quite publicly, by no fewer than twenty merchants, three blacksmiths, and one poor tavern keeper who claims he had to close shop early due to the commotion.”

“Commotion?” Daemon chuckled. “I do believe we’re innocent in that regard. We were simply… taking in the night air. Can we help it if Flea Bottom is easily scandalized?”

Viserys buried his face in his hands, letting out a long, tired sigh. “Daemon, please tell me you didn’t…”

Daemon leaned forward, grinning. “We were enjoying a harmless stroll through the city, brother. Perhaps my sister stumbled. I may have… caught her in my arms.” He shrugged. “The streets are narrow, after all.”

“And how do you explain the… lack of clothing, then?” Otto’s voice was practically a hiss.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, looking delightfully unbothered. “The night was warm. Flea Bottom is hardly known for its air quality; perhaps we were a bit overheated.”

Viserys looked torn between exasperation and amusement, glancing between Otto, who was nearly purple with indignation, and Daemon, who was enjoying himself far too much.

“I’ll speak with her later,” Viserys mumbled. “Though it seems she’s blissfully unaware of this entire meeting.”

“Indeed,” Otto added, clearly affronted. “Your sister, Prince Daemon, is currently asleep, untroubled by the scandal she has brought upon the crown.”

Daemon smirked, tilting his head as he glanced out the window, towards where he knew you were soundly sleeping in his chambers, blissfully unaware of the ruckus you had apparently caused.

“You see, Otto,” Daemon said, voice rich with mischief, “some of us have our priorities straight.”

Otto looked as if he might explode on the spot, his glare enough to scorch even dragon scales. “Your Grace,” he said to Viserys, voice shaking with frustration, “I would suggest that the Prince and Princess conduct their… excursions with more decorum in the future.”

Daemon merely chuckled, clearly unbothered, as he rose from his seat, giving Otto a mocking bow before leaning over the table to clap Viserys on the shoulder. “Come now, brother. Life’s too short to worry about such trifles.”

One by one, the members of the small council shuffled out of the room, each with varying degrees of disapproval and exasperation. Otto departed first, his nose lifted as if the very thought of Daemon and Flea Bottom scandal was beneath him. Tyland Lannister muttered something about “Targaryen passions,” while Mellos whispered a prayer for “royal restraint.” Corlys chuckled under his breath, likely remembering his own youthful exploits, and Beesbury, well, he mumbled something entirely incoherent as he tottered out.

Finally, Viserys and Daemon were alone in the chamber, and the air grew notably less stiff. Viserys let out a sigh, shaking his head as he turned to face his younger brother, who stood grinning like a cat with feathers in its mouth.

“Daemon,” Viserys began, tone weary but still tinged with brotherly affection. “You know I have to address this. Flea Bottom isn’t some playground for you and Y/N to make spectacles of yourselves. We’re not children anymore.”

Daemon cocked an eyebrow, folding his arms as he watched his brother with that perpetual glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean, brother. We were simply… enjoying the night air.”

“Oh, of course,” Viserys replied, dryly. “And shedding half your clothes in the process?”

“Clothes are but an inconvenience in certain settings,” Daemon countered, smirking. “It’s not my fault that Flea Bottom took notice of a little, ah, fresh air between siblings.”

Viserys pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a laugh that threatened to break through his serious expression. “Look, Daemon. I won’t tolerate this again. If you and Y/N want to explore the city, I don’t care. But could you please… refrain from causing a scene?”

Daemon tilted his head, lips curling as he feigned shock. “You make it sound as though we’re entirely to blame. Perhaps Flea Bottom’s citizens simply haven’t the sophistication to understand royal comportment.”

“Royal comportment?” Viserys nearly snorted, giving his brother a look. “Is that what you call it?”

“A very dignified stroll, as I said,” Daemon replied smoothly, though the grin on his face betrayed his amusement.

Viserys sighed, straightening himself as he tried to assume a more serious expression. “Well, I’ll speak to her as well. Once she wakes. Hopefully, one of us can impress upon her the importance of… discretion.”

Daemon chuckled, the sound a low, warm rumble that seemed to fill the room. “You’ll talk to her, will you?” His eyes sparkled with the memory of mischief. “And what will you tell her, I wonder? That the king disapproves of his siblings enjoying themselves? You’ve gotten awfully proper since you took that throne, brother.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I wouldn’t call it proper. Perhaps just… restrained.”

“Restrained,” Daemon repeated, savoring the word as if it were a bitter taste. “And you think restraint suits you, do you?”

“Yes,” Viserys replied, though he didn’t sound quite convinced. He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping. “Not everyone can run about the city causing scandals, Daemon. Some of us have responsibilities.”

Daemon rolled his eyes, leaning back casually. “You used to enjoy our company,” he said, his tone almost wistful. “Remember? Back when you weren’t restrained or… boring.”

“Boring?” Viserys shot him a look, though his mouth twitched with a reluctant smile. “I am not boring.”

“Oh, but you are,” Daemon continued, grinning. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been together like that. The old Viserys would have been right there with us, laughing, celebrating, not sitting on his stuffy throne, worrying about what Otto Hightower thinks.”

Viserys opened his mouth to retort, but he hesitated, glancing away as if the memory of those carefree days was tugging at him. “Things… change, Daemon,” he said finally. “I am king now. I have to be responsible.”

Daemon snorted. “King. Yes, yes, I know. But the crown doesn’t mean you have to be miserable, chained to your duties like some prisoner.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice as he looked Viserys in the eye. “You’re Targaryen. We’re dragons, not gray little men sitting in musty chambers. What happened to the brother who would drink and laugh until dawn?”

“Daemon…” Viserys began, voice a touch softer. The memories seemed to hang between them, filling the silence in a way that was almost tangible.

“What’s the harm in a little fun, brother?” Daemon pressed, leaning back with a smirk. “Perhaps you’d remember that if you joined us again sometime.”

Viserys shook his head, his mouth quirking into a small, defeated smile. “I suppose I can’t change you, can I?”

Daemon chuckled, clapping Viserys on the shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Viserys sighed, smiling faintly as he looked at his brother, who stood there looking exactly like the reckless, loyal sibling he’d always known. “Fine. I’ll let this go. This time. After I talk with Y/N. But for the love of the Seven, Daemon, please, try to stay out of trouble.”

Daemon laughed, turning towards the door, his hand resting on the handle as he threw one last cheeky grin over his shoulder. “Oh, come now, Viserys. You know I’d be a poor Targaryen if I promised that.”

And with that, he sauntered out, leaving Viserys alone in the chamber, still shaking his head with a rueful smile, knowing that whatever mischief his brother might conjure next, there was no stopping it.

Daemon slipped quietly into the low lit chamber he shared with you, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. You were still sound asleep, sprawled across the bed in a tangle of silken sheets, one arm thrown over your head, hair splayed across the pillow like a midnight wave. It would have been easy for him to leave you in peace, but since when did Daemon Targaryen ever do the easy thing?

With a barely contained smirk, he approached the bed, slipping off his boots and cloak with the practiced stealth of a dragon sneaking into a nest. He slid into bed beside you, and without ceremony, he reached out and gently tugged a lock of your hair.

“Wake up, my scandalous princess,” he murmured, amusement thick in his voice.

You stirred, a soft murmur escaping your lips, but otherwise remained blissfully unaware of his presence. Daemon raised an eyebrow, feigning offense as he leaned over you, his face only inches from yours.

“Sleeping through your king’s summons, are you?” he whispered, lips twitching with a grin. “I’d thought even the Seven couldn’t wake you after last night’s ‘adventures.’”

You shifted, brow furrowing, before mumbling something incoherent and burying your face into the pillow. Daemon rolled his eyes, his grin widening as he reached out, fingers finding that ticklish spot just beneath your ribs.

With a startled gasp, you shot up, glaring at him with a mix of irritation and groggy confusion. “Daemon!”

He lay back, arms crossed behind his head, looking up at you with an entirely too-pleased grin. “Good morning to you too, darling.”

You blinked, still caught between sleep and waking, before the events of the previous night began to creep back into your memory. A flush crept to your cheeks as you recalled the, well… enthusiastic moments you’d shared in Flea Bottom.

“Daemon,” you muttered, pulling the sheets up to your chin. “You didn’t have to wake me like that.”

“Oh, but I did,” he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with humor. “You should have seen Otto’s face when he spoke of our little escapade. I swear he looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

You snorted despite yourself, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “I can only imagine.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to,” he replied, his grin widening. “Viserys has promised to speak to you personally about it.”

Your eyes widened. “Viserys? He knows?”

Daemon laughed, reaching out to tug the sheets away from your grip. “Of course, he knows. You’ve made quite an impression on Flea Bottom, love. They’re calling us the ‘Silver Specters.’” He paused, leaning closer with a wicked glint in his eye. “I think we’ve scandalized the city.”

You groaned, collapsing back onto the pillow. “Why did you have to drag me into your schemes?”

“My schemes?” Daemon looked wounded, a hand pressed to his chest in mock hurt. “Oh, dear sister, if I recall, you were the one suggesting we slip away from the Red Keep for a bit of fun.”

You opened one eye, giving him a skeptical look. “Fun, yes. Not… public indecency.”

Daemon chuckled, shifting closer to you, his hand resting casually on your hip. “Come now, admit it,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “You enjoyed every moment. Don’t tell me you weren’t thrilled by the danger.”

You rolled your eyes but felt the flutter of his words settle warmly in your chest. “Maybe a little.”

He laughed again, his hand trailing along your back as he murmured, “That’s what I thought.”

You sighed, glancing toward the chamber door. “What do we do now? If Viserys is actually going to talk to me—”

“Let him talk,” Daemon interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “He’s forgotten how to have fun. You, my dear sister, are the only thing keeping this court interesting.”

“Oh, really?” You quirked a brow, giving him a knowing look. “And I suppose you had nothing to do with our ‘adventure’ last night?”

He grinned, unabashed. “Not a thing. I’m simply an innocent bystander swept along by your rebellious spirit.”

You rolled over, pinning him with a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re an utter rogue, Daemon Targaryen.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pull you close. “And you love me for it.”

With a laugh, you let him draw you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace and the humor of the situation filling the room like a fire on a cold morning. Whatever lectures Viserys might have planned for you, they could wait. In that moment, it was just you, Daemon, and the quiet mischief that bound you together.

Later that day, you found yourself summoned to Viserys’s solar, a request you knew could only mean one thing: the dreaded talk. You walked in with feigned innocence, a small, polite smile playing on your lips, though you could already spot Daemon lounging near the hearth with an air of smug satisfaction.

Viserys stood by his desk, hands clasped behind his back as he gave you a look that was equal parts exasperated brother and disappointed king. It might have been intimidating, had Daemon not been sitting just a few paces behind him, barely suppressing a smirk.

“Y/N,” Viserys began, his tone solemn. “We need to talk about… last night.”

“Oh?” You blinked, wide-eyed, adopting a tone as innocent as you could muster. “Did something happen last night, Your Grace?”

Daemon let out a soft snicker, and Viserys shot him a look before turning back to you, fighting to maintain his composure. “Don’t play coy with me. You know very well what I mean. The Flea Bottom… incident.”

“Ah,” you murmured, trying to look suitably contrite but struggling to keep a straight face. “The, um, ‘Silver Specters,’ was it?”

Viserys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes. That. Do you understand the kind of scandal this has brought upon the crown?”

“Oh, come now, Viserys,” Daemon drawled from his spot by the fire, voice dripping with amusement. “It’s hardly the first scandal we’ve been part of.”

Viserys turned to shoot Daemon another glare, before turning back to you, struggling to resume his kingly seriousness. “Y/N, this sort of behavior… it’s unbecoming. You are royalty, and your actions reflect upon the Targaryen name.”

You tilted your head, an innocent glimmer in your eyes as you answered, “Oh, I seem to remember a time when all three of us did this sort of thing regularly. On Dragonstone, remember?”

Daemon’s smirk widened, clearly entertained, while Viserys looked as if you’d just struck him speechless. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he coughed, suddenly at a loss for words.

“I… well, that was…” he stammered, momentarily thrown off balance. “That was… a long time ago.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that long ago,” Daemon chimed in, the gleam in his eye betraying his enjoyment. “I remember it well. Especially that one summer—”

“Daemon!” Viserys cut him off, clearly trying to maintain some sense of decorum but failing miserably as memories of youthful indiscretions seemed to flash behind his eyes. “That’s… not the point.”

You couldn’t resist pressing further, stepping closer to him with an innocent smile. “Why, brother, you didn’t seem to mind then. In fact,” you paused, voice dropping to a more mischievous tone, “if memory serves, you were rather… enthusiastic about our nightly adventures.”

Viserys’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he glanced away, clearly flustered as he grappled with his authority and memories he’d rather keep buried. “Yes, well… I… that was different.”

“Oh?” Daemon smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, looking between the two of you with open amusement. “I’d love to hear how it was different, brother.”

Viserys opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. His gaze shifted from you to Daemon, caught somewhere between indignation and something else entirely, something softer and unspoken. His shoulders slumped a little as he let out a resigned sigh, his kingly facade crumbling.

“Perhaps… I’ve become a bit too serious,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself.

Daemon chuckled, stepping forward to clasp a hand on his shoulder. “You see, Viserys? That crown’s made you dreadfully dull.”

“Maybe it has,” Viserys said, glancing between the two of you, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “But one of us has to be the responsible one.”

“Oh, but I don’t think you’ve forgotten everything,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his, a flicker of shared memory passing between you. “You were always our leader back then. Wherever you went, we’d follow.”

Viserys swallowed, his cheeks still faintly pink as he looked at you, then at Daemon, as though some long-buried part of himself was surfacing. “I suppose,” he murmured, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “There were good times.”

Daemon grinned, moving to stand beside you as he gave Viserys a sly look. “Then perhaps it’s time we brought a little of that back.”

Viserys shook his head, though his smile had fully broken through. “I don’t know if I should be encouraging the two of you…”

“Oh, you should,” you replied, a spark of mischief lighting in your eyes as you leaned closer to him. “We’ve missed you, you know. It’s been too long since all three of us… indulged.”

For a moment, Viserys’s gaze softened, the weight of the crown forgotten as he looked at you and Daemon, the memories of simpler times gleaming in his eyes. He glanced away, chuckling softly.

“Well,” he said, trying to sound stern but failing, “as long as you two promise not to cause a scandal quite so… public next time.”

“Who, us?” Daemon feigned innocence, draping an arm around your shoulders. “We would never dream of it.”

Viserys’s laughter filled the room, and for a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the three of you were back on Dragonstone, young, free, and utterly unburdened by the crown’s weight.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter two Hiori discovers Miss Journalist might be a loyal fan of his — and learns the hard way that stalking someone on Winstagram can quickly get complicated. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, very hiori yo centric piece, reader is big hiori fangirl i guess masterlist

A few days later, Hiori noticed Bastard München’s group chat buzzing on his way to training. In just a couple of days, your article he had stumbled upon gained traction, spreading quickly among fans and media circles.

To his surprise, the team’s marketing team seized the opportunity to reshape the narrative to their advantage. They shared the article on the team’s official social media account, tagging you, with the caption: “Big W, thanks @/yn_offthepage for the awesome feature! We appreciate the support and dedication from all fans as we push forward this season. Don’t count us out yet!”

The reaction was immediate and electric. Fans who had been hesitant—some even critical—now rallied behind the team. Comments flooded in, sparking a renewed sense of hope for the Kaiser-less Bastard München. It was as if your article had breathed life back into a disheartened fanbase, bringing a spark of energy and support that the team badly needed.

By mid-day, another notification caught Hiori’s attention—a link to an old podcast clip that had resurfaced from an episode a few weeks prior to the start of the season. He opened it, surprised to see that you had been a featured guest in Anri Teieri and Ego Jinpachi’s Japanese Football Association podcast show.

The video began with the three of you sitting around a cluttered table with JFA signage and merch. Anri wore her usual JFA-branded polo shirt, and Ego wore a dark dress shirt paired with his signature bolo tie. 

You, however, were dressed more casually this time—casual but sporty. You donned a simple oversized tracksuit jacket and pants, with your messy bun adding an almost charming touch to your appearance. Your cheeks were lightly dusted with blush, and somehow looked radiant under the studio’s lights.

The podcast attracted attention quickly, and for good reason. The topic of discussion? The top three teams to watch that season. When Anri posed the question to you, Hiori hadn’t been prepared for your bold and quick response: Bastard München. The choice raised an eyebrow from Ego, who clearly hadn’t been expecting it.

In the next few seconds, you defended your choice with a blend of sharp analysis and an unexpected warmth. 

“Bastard München may have their flaws,” you explained, “but this season is about more than just winning. They’re rebuilding, and that means everyone now has a chance to shape the team’s dynamics in a way we haven’t seen before. It’s exciting because of how the team chooses to play things out this season can make or break them.”

As Hiori watched the clip, he couldn’t suppress a slight smile. The way you spoke about Bastard München struck a chord.

Your words weren’t just empty praise. They held conviction, a belief in their potential that was oddly reassuring. It reminded him of why he played, of the love for the game that had gotten buried under expectations and pressure.

“Think of it this way,” you continued, “just like in the Blue Lock project, players are forged through fire and brimstone, transforming into better versions of themselves. But this time, it’s not just individuals. It’s a whole team, shaping their destiny together. Aside from snide fan remarks, the only limiting factor to their potential growth is themselves, with the season a ticking time bomb hovering over their heads. This is where real egoists evolve.”

Not many sports personalities, especially journalists, would have taken the risk of showing open support for a team with uncertain prospects.

She a Noel Noa fan? he wondered.

Regardless, he hadn’t expected to feel that weight behind your statement, but something about it felt... right. 

At practice later that day, the clip had gone fully viral. So viral that the team’s sly marketing team couldn’t resist showing it to the squad. And like clockwork, during their break, Coach Noa and the marketing manager flagged down the sweaty athletes and gathered them in the locker room to watch the podcast clip.

The team crowded around the big TV, and as they watched, Hiori felt the atmosphere shift. The weight of their previous defeats seemed to lift. Your public support for Bastard München—the way you called them the team to watch out for this season—was like kindling to their dying embers. 

Even without looking at each other, they can feel that there’s a newfound determination settling within them. Even Greisner’s grumpy self got visibly pumped, his potty mouth running nonstop, but in a good way.

Watching his teammates respond to the clip reaffirmed what he’d felt earlier. But it was Hiori who felt the impact the most. Your conviction, your words, as if everything was directed to him.

This wasn’t just about the praise; it was about being seen, understood, in a way he hadn’t known they needed. Your words had done more than lift him; they’d awakened the fire within the entire team, making them feel, for the first time in a while, like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

But what surprised Hiori was the next clip that Coach Noa played.

The clip showed Anri bringing out an exaggeratedly large whiteboard titled “Ego’s Top Player Watch List”.

It showed a list of the top ten players to watch this season, paired with a comically drawn cartoon face of a player beside their name. It listed high-profile names and football stars everyone was expecting to see. The usual suspects—Julian Loki, Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryuusei, the Itoshi Brothers—were all there.

But you interrupted Ego’s explanation mid-sentence.

“Not to be rude, but this looks like a ‘super fan’s’ wet dream.”

The team erupted in laughter. Hiori could hear Anri snort in the background, trying to cover it up with a cough after getting a stink eye from Ego himself.

Even Coach Noa couldn’t help himself, letting out a low chuckle at that unfiltered comment about his former brother-in-arms.

The camera panned to Ego, whose face was now a mix of curiosity and provocation. Through gritted teeth, he said, emphasizing every syllable of every word, “Is that so? What makes you say that, Y/N-chan?"

Realizing how rude that sounded, you bowed profusely, the tips of your ears red from the embarrassment. “I’m sorry! That came out wrong!”

“What I mean is, these are the players that football fanboys usually rattle off,” you said, catching yourself a bit too late. You just called Ego a fanboy. You winced but pressed on.

“These are the stereotypical names everyone expects to hear. But there are so many others who are just as impactful in their own way. Players like Nanase Nijiro, Niko Ikki, Agi, Miroku Darai, Alexis Ness …”, and for a second, you visibly, faltered, hesitating.

But you continued with a smile, “... and Hiori Yo, to name a few.”

“Oooh, that’s some hot take you’ve got there, Y/N-chan.” Anri laughed. “Also, two players from Bastard München?”

“So I’m guessing your favorite player is from the German club then?” Ego pried as he erased names on the board to replace them with Alexis Ness, Agi, and Hiori Yo’s names.

“Is it that obvious?” You chuckled. “Actually, let me show you.”

The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as you started unzipping your tracksuit jacket and revealed a Bastard München black jersey with the big bold gold number on the front.

Jersey number 23.

Hiori Yo’s jersey number.

His jersey.

“Ooooh!” The team erupted in laughter and teasing as they eyed Hiori, who was clearly stunned by the sudden reveal.

And it didn’t stop there.

“He’s a strategist both on and off the field. A true genius." You leaned forward, eyes bright with conviction.

“Everyone’s always focused on the strikers, but for me, midfielders steal the show. Playmaking is the heart of football; without midfielders to anchor the team, you’d just have chaos and confusion. Don’t get me wrong, I love the excitement that forwards like Julian Loki bring. But midfielders like Hiori Yo have their own kind of charm, a different thrill.” 

Your voice softened, your gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. “There’s something mesmerizing about the way they read the game, anticipating moves before anyone else sees them. They make football more dynamic, more unpredictable. What’s not to like, right?”

You paused, catching your breath, and glanced around, realizing you rambled on. Anri and Ego exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. Hiori watched as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks flushed as if you'd suddenly remembered you weren't alone.

It was clear you’d been watching him closely, noticing the subtleties of his play that often went unnoticed. And for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride.

As the clip ended, the locker room broke out in playful whistles, the whole Bastard München jeering at Hiori. Grins and knowing looks flew his way, as they egged him on this surprising development.

“Look at you, Hiori,” Ndiaye teased, nudging him. “Got yourself a fangirl.”

Hiori felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried to hide a small smile. But something stirred within him. Was it validation? Recognition? He couldn’t quite tell.  

“Who wouldn’t like Hiori? He’s, like, the ultra-sadist.” Isagi laughed as he elbowed Hiori on the side.

“Ah, shaddap, that was ages ago,” Hiori laughed, shoving him back. “But this ultra-sadist ain’t passin’ to ya if ya play like crap next match!”

“Damn, so cruel, so mean, Hiori.” Kunigami said.

“Guess it’s just my charm, eh?” Hiori grinned as he gracefully dodged a playful jab from a pouty, jealous Igarashi.

“Lucky! I’d kill for a fan in the press, so unfair.” Raichi groaned, casting a jealous look at Hiori.

Theo Sachs draped his arm around Raichi and said, “I doubt Miss Y/N would even write about you, even if you’re the master striker. You gotta be smart, not a smartass.”

“Plus, if we’re judging the team, you’d probably come in just above Igarashi at the bottom.” Yukimiya chimed in, laughing. “Even Gagamaru’s got a better shot at landing a cute fan.” Gagamaru simply huffed in smug satisfaction.

A loud clap broke their chaos as they heard Coach Noa clear his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. This is good publicity, yes, but remember, this puts all eyes on us for the next few matches. So don’t slack off. We’ve got a chance to prove them wrong, and I expect every one of you to play like it.”

The team erupted in shouts and cheers, clearly energized by the encouragement in the video. It might not have seemed like much, but having someone voice their confidence in Bastard Munchen out there for everyone to see lifted their spirits and boosted morale in a way they hadn’t expected. 

Football players are so single-minded, Hiori chuckled to himself.

The team dispersed as Coach Noa dismissed them with a wave, nodding with certainty at Hiori before heading to the field. The rest of the team scattered, eager to enjoy the rest of their break before afternoon training resumed.

He watched them go, but his mind lingered on the clip and on you.

Hiori felt a strange warmth unfurl in his chest. You weren't focused on the typical names, the usual flashy strikers; you spoke about the heart of the game, the grind, the transformation.

And when you mentioned the midfielders—the players who built the game from the ground up, who connected every move and controlled the chaos on the field—it felt like you were talking directly to him.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had seen that side of his role, had recognized the way he approached the game. He felt seen—not for his skill or his stats, but for the way he played, for the choices he made on the field.

This wasn’t validation from his parents or praise from a coach. This was different. It was like a piece of himself he’d almost forgotten was gently being uncovered again. And in that moment, Hiori realized he wasn’t just another player on the field. He was Hiori Yo, a player with his own way of seeing the game—and you understood it.

Hiori replayed the clip, slipping on his earphones as he sank onto an empty bench under the shade. He let the image of you in his jersey burn into the back of his mind. And that smile.

This feels damn good, huh?

It was strange. Most people dismissed his approach to the game as too quiet, too calculated. But you understood it, and that understanding warmed him from the inside out, like a light he didn’t want to fade.

Without a thought, he checked your Winstagram account he had bookmarked. He scrolled down further before stopping as he spotted the picture he had been looking for. He clicked on it, and it showed him a carousel of images from that podcast episode. He did linger a little longer on a candid photo of you in his jersey.

He tried to zoom in, double tapping the image. “Ah, shit.” he muttered, as a heart-shaped “like” notification popped up instead.

In a panic, his fingers moved before he could even think about it. His heart raced as he tapped it continuously, unliking it, then tapped it again, liking it once more.

He froze, realizing that what he had done probably made things worse.

“Well… no goin’ back now, huh?” With a soft chuckle, he hit the follow button before stashing his phone in his bag and jogging back to the field, a smile playing on his lips.

While in the middle of researching a story, you were drenched in sweat as your phone blew up with notifications. The JFA podcast going viral definitely wasn’t on your to-do list today. While the clip's popularity was undoubtedly a career boost for a budding sports journalist like you, the attention was overwhelming.

Many praised you for your insightful take on the team and Hiori, but others labeled you an overzealous fan, clinging to idealistic views. As you scrolled through the messages and comments, a creeping anxiety settled in. 

Was your conviction really misplaced? Maybe you should’ve just mentioned PXG, like the other “normal” fans.

Instead, you had blurted out your admiration for Bastard Munchen—and, to make it worse, wore the jersey of your favorite player on camera.

What was I thinking, showing that off in a recorded video? So stupid.

As you scrolled further, a few off-the-rails comments caught your eye: 

When she talked about Hiori, she gloooowed.

Hiori Yo's biggest fangirl confirmed?

Your face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and something else, something unexpected. You quickly swiped past the post, your heart pounding. Was it really that obvious? The beating in your chest wouldn't go away.

Your moment of procrastination was interrupted by a series of Winstagram notifications popping up on your screen.

hioyi_yo23 liked a post. hioyi_yo23 liked a post. hioyi_yo23 started following you.

“Shit. Shit, shit shit shit shit. What now?!” You choked on your iced latte and scrambled to open the notification.

You couldn’t tell if the universe was playing some twisted prank on you. Because when you saw what photo Hiori Yo—Bastard Munchen’s midfielder, jersey number 23, THE HIORI YO HIMSELF—had liked, it felt like the entire world had just shifted on its axis.

It was your photo, wearing his jersey. He saw. He watched the clip. And he knew your Winstagram account.

Wait—did he like it and un-like it?

You quickly opened his profile, you fingers trembling. His account was a stark contrast to yours. There was barely anything personal—just a handful of Bastard Munchen-related posts, a few photos of teammates and friends, and some glimpses of his personal life, like the computer games he played or events he attended.

Everything was cryptic, like the man himself, showing only fragments of his life.

“Well, here goes nothing,” you muttered, butterflies exploding in her stomach as you tapped the follow button.

You stared at the screen for a moment, holding you breath. A smile tugged at your lips as you read it again: hiori_yo23 follows you.

author's notes: after so many revisions, it's finally done! i rewrote this chapter and it turned out longer than i expected. but i wanted to show both hiori and reader felt, their internal thoughts and feelings. a friend (who hasn't read or seen blue lock) has been helping me with proofreading. i was pretty happy because he said, he's liking hiori's character and how the slow burn is unfolding. anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed it! lemme know what you guys think!

[ohnoitstbskyen]

So, considering what's going on with Riot right now, do you think Arcane Season 2 got caught up in all of this restructuring?

Yes and no. Arcane season 2 is part of the reason for the restructuring.

As I understand it, internally at Riot, after Arcane was a huge (and more importantly: prestigious!) success, the decision was made to basically hand the entirety of the game's lore and story over to the Entertainment division within Riot. These are the people in large part responsible for projects like Arcane, K/DA, Heartsteel, that animated series China got, all that sort of thing.

The writers at Riot were basically told to flat out stop producing new content and lore for the game - that's why there's BEEN no new story content for League for over a year - because everything was going to be consolidated under the Entertainment division from now on. This is why Riot started talking about "One Runeterra" and "Arcane is going to be canon" and so on.

The success of Arcane convinced executives that what League of Legends needs is a singular cohesive brand with its most successful public property leading the charge, Arcane is going to be the gateway drug, the hook on the end of the line that brings new players and new paying customers into the exciting world of the League of Legends multimedia IP universe!

Nevermind that Arcane's story and worldbuilding is fundamentally incompatible with >checks notes< the overwhelming majority of Runeterra as it exists and enormous compromises would have to be made to either the world of Runeterra or Arcane itself to make it work. Arcane is the big shiny prestigious mainstream Emmy-award winning project that every executive wants to put their name next to, and like companies Pivoting To Video in 2015 because Facebook showed them inflated viewership stats, Riot Games is Pivoting To Arcane. It's better than them pivoting to crypto and NFTs, at least, although I know for a fact that high ranking people at Riot tried to make that happen too.

Now, the primary cause for all of these games industry layoffs is that interest rates aren't zero anymore. Borrowing money isn't free, the curve of constant growth has ever so slightly slowed, taking on debt is becoming a little tiny bit more risky than it was previously, and corporations are responding to this with massive rounds of layoffs and constriction to show "financial responsibility" and prove to shareholders that they are prioritizing core growth strategies and blah blah blah etc. They're also trying to kneecap the growing labor movement in the games industry and exert downwards pressure on wages, but the interest rates seem to have been the main thing.

In Riot's particular case, a secondary reason is they want to pivot the focus of the company to support their One Runeterra pipe dream, so a lot of the people who got fired at Riot are writers, artists, creative leads and sometimes extremely senior and successful staff who are now surplus to requirements. This is also why Riot shut down Riot Forge in the same round of layoffs - can't have a bunch of talented indie devs going off making video games that don't adhere to the new One Runeterra policy. What if someone played Mageseeker and got confused how there can be mages all over Demacia but somehow there are no mages in Arcane's Piltover and Zaun. That's a plot hole! People write snarky articles about that sort of thing. It turns off new consumers! What if Cinema Sins makes a video making fun of it?!?

So yeah. A bunch of cocaine-addled fame hungry executive vultures at Riot are absolutely gagging on their own d*cks to put their name next to Arcane related projects, and since they were going to be screwing hundreds of people out of their careers, healthcare, and in some cases their fucking visa status anyway, it seems to have presented a nice opportunity to clear the board for their latest Visionary Scheme for the company IP.

That is as I understand the situation, anyway. I'm a bitter old man and most of what I hear is second hand and anonymous gossip through my social networks, take what I say with a grain of salt, but I've followed this company for (oh god) twelve years now and I have developed a tragically keen understanding of how its executive class operates.