#girl i Know you did not find this text extremely interesting don't lie to me.

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 1)

☆ pairing: toji x afab!reader ☆ summary: toji, your objectively hot neighbor, needs a babysitter, and you need some cash. however, things are getting weird because he hasn't paid you in a week and rent is due... ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI. choking, oral sex (f!recieving), implied parent death, some public nudity, slight power dynamic ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: lowkey wrote this with one hand if you catch my drift ꈍ .̮ ꈍ i'm thinking about doing more parts loosely based off of each other following y/n and a love triangle between gojo and toji. yes, they will be horny and yes i will *try* to have some plot let me LIVE okay (°◡°♡) let me know if that's something people are interested in :3 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"megumiiii~", you sing lightly, "it's time for beeed". it's way past 9pm, and if toji finds out his son was 30 minutes past his bedtime, he'll never let you forget the next time you babysit. not that you have any issue babysitting for your extremely built, ripped, hot, dilf of a neighbor, that is.

megumi groans and tears start lining his little eyes. "but i don't wanna~" he cries out. "there's only 30 minutes left on this show...", he tries to beg. you pick up the candy wrappers you secretly gave megumi after dinner as a treat for eating his veggies.

"okay, first of all, i let you stay up way longer than i should have. second, there's no way in hell am i gonna let you stay up and watch...oh god. you're watching euphoria?!" you exclaim, eyes widening at the thought of megumi watching all the inappropriate content without you even realizing. you hope it's too late in the night and he's far too sleepy and tired to actually retain anything he just watched. you grab the tv remote and turn it off, and pick up megumi in your arms. "c'mon bubs, you've got school tomorrow, and your daddy will be home soon", you whisper softly in his ear.

megumi yawns and mumbles while slowly drifting off. "but i'm not even that sweepyy...". by the time you make it upstairs to his room, megumi is knocked out. you smile softly at him, before quitely closing the door and heading downstairs to the living room to clean up the mess megumi had made.

you look at the time again. 9:45...toji should be back soon, you think to yourself. you decide on reviewing some of your notes for a final next week while euphoria continues to play on the background. you've personally never watched the show, but your roommate, shoko, was obsessed with jacob elordi and loved euphoria, but there was far too much nudity in it for you.

as if right on cue, shoko shoots you a text.

shoko: pls tell me ur balls deep in toji rn babe me n utahime are bored as hell and we need something exciting this friday night 😭

you giggle. it was no secret between you and three that your next door neighbor was insanely hot. you guys always joke about sleeping with toji. you quickly type back:

y/n: stfu what if he was next to me and read this text huh? never gonna happen you know that 🙄

it’s not like you’re not not down for that. you just don’t want to be all over him like everyone else in the neighborhood. you and shoko have seen the way some of these girls did not know how to act on nextdoor whenever toji went on one of his shirtless runs or drove megumi to and from school.

it’s also not like you’re a total virgin either. you’ve had your fair share of ex-boyfriends in the past, but you won’t lie…it has been a while since you’ve been with someone. your thoughts are interrupted by a response from shoko.

shoko: riiiighttt, that's why you asked to borrow my shortest n sluttiest skirt to "babysit" tn 😏

you shake your head, scoffing at your cheeky roommate. you love her, but there's a final next week that isn't going to pass itself. muting the show and putting on your headphones, you get lost in your class notes, reviewing all the important key points and ideas before your final next week. you don’t even notice toji opening the door and his keys clanging on the table as he takes off his shoes and groans after a long day of…work? you’re not entirely sure what he does for a living but you never really bothered to ask. and it’s partially why you were feeling nervous to ask toji about your babysitting payment for the last week, as he hadn’t paid you at all for it. toji heads to the kitchen and opens a cold bottle of beer and saunters to the living room, only to be met with a pair of 4k hd bare titties on the 60 inch tv in his living room and you on the sofa.

toji clears his throat loudly. “whatcha watching, y/n?”, he says cheekily. you look up at toji, startled by his entrance, and you look at the tv, and squeal at what’s on display.

“oh my god, mr. fushiguro! i-i-i have no ideas w-what’s playing. ohmygodidon’tevenknowwhatshowisplaying-” you start rambling, looking around frantically for the remote to turn the tv off.

“relax, y/n-kun”, toji coos. “i’m not judging you. never known anyone to do their best studyin’ while there are a pair of tits on screen, but you always find a way to surprise me.” toji chuckles as you turn off the tv, and moves closer to you so he can sit across the sofa.

“stop teasing me, mr. fushiguro~”, you whine., crossing your arms and pouting. “you know i’d never-“

“c’mon y/n, how many times do i have to tell you to call me toji? i’m not that much older than you, you know that right?”, toji reminds you.

your pout slowly turns into a smile as you laugh slightly. “okay, whatever you say, boomer,” you tease. you and toji both laugh gingerly. you both stare at the blank tv screen, marinating in the comfortable silence you both were familiar with. toji was right when he said he wasn’t much older than you. he was, after all, your age when he had megumi and was somehow making ends meet as a single parent, although you would be lying if you said you hadn’t seen a few women here and there that toji brought home every so often. it was never the same girl more than once, but you definitely knew he had some game, whether you liked it or not. wait, do you not like that he brings girls over?

you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you recall the uncomfortable conversation you need to have with toji. he senses the change in your mood and how you body stiffened up instead of its usually relaxed posture. toji frowns. “hey, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“umm…well, i hope you don’t mind me asking this but…well, i’ve got to pay my portion of rent soon. a-and i’ve noticed that i haven’t gotten paid for the last w-week yet. sorry, i know things are rough but…i was wondering…” you trail off, pleading inside that toji can fill in the blanks himself and can figure out what you’re asking.

toji shifts towards you and locks eyes with you. you don’t really know what you were expecting to see but it sure wasn’t him smirking. you swear you saw a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes as he inches closer and closer to you. almost instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying really hard not to think about the effect locking eyes with toji has on you.

“aw, i’m sorry, pumpkin.” toji feigns sympathy to you. “you see, i was going to pay you last week. remember when you went to tuck megumi in after last thursday? i had an envelope with the cash i owed you, and i went to put it in your bag, when your laptop chimed with a new message.” your face immediately drops. this can’t be what you think it is. you’re not entirely sure what toji could’ve seen, but also, isn’t this a violation of your privacy? you hold your breath and gulp, daring not to let toji sense how nervous you are.

“oh god, y/n. i didn’t want to look but it’s hard to look away when there’s a message that says ‘so have you fucked your hot dilf neighbor yet?��� don’t tell me you were only babysitting for me because you wanted me?” toji asks, raising an eyebrow, the scar near his lip lifting up slightly in a teasing grin.

“i-i don’t know w-what you’re talking about, toji~ why were you looking at my messages!” you accuse, your face growing hotter by the second with embarrassment and…lust? wait what no, he’s your neighbor you can’t do this! you can feel your panties getting more soaked by the second and you cannot bear to look at toji’s stupid handsome face, so you look at his hands. the way his large fingers rest on the sofa. how would they look around your neck? oh my god, snap out of it!

“why are you telling everyone but me you think i’m hot?” he counters, pulling you from your thoughts. “that reallyyy hurts my feelings, y/n-kun”, toji says as he pretends to pout. wait, when did he get so close to you?

“it’s s-so unprofessional i didn’t want to-“ you start rambling. toji is right next to you, his knees touching your knees. he stops you mid sentence by using his hands that are practically the size of your face to grab your jaw and force you to face him, as you let out a pathetic little whine.

“cut the shit, pumpkin. it’s just babysitting, okay. it’s not that serious,” toji spits harshly. every muscle in your body is on fire, and you have to actively prevent your eyes from rolling back. you swear you had a fantasy dream like this once (oh god, was it with toji?).

“don’t think i don’t see you looking sooo disappointed when i bring yet another girl home with me. hell, it even makes me feel bad…” toji trails off, as he loosens his grip on your jaw, slowly using his fingers to trace your jawline. you shiver at his touch. “hell, even i feel bad when i see your sad sad face drop. my poor girl…”, toji feigns a frown as he starts to softly trace the outline of your lips.

instinctively, you let out a quite moan when his fingers touch your lips. “i do, toji. i feel so sad when i see you with those other girls. i can’t stand it when someone else has you.” you confess, almost embarrassingly easily. your wide bambi eyes look at toji’s, and you’re not sure if you want to cry or beeline back to your place and forget this ever happened. or perhaps a secret third option where you give in to the desires you’ve had all along?

toji groans deeply as he shifts slightly in his seat, but before you’re able to look down and see the hardening tent in his pants, toji shoves his index and middle fingers into your mouth, taking you by surprise. you stifle out a moan before toji sticks them deeper down your throat.

he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck on them as you instinctively start to do so, making a show of gagging on them for toji’s pleasure. you feel warm as you hear toji let out a groan as he slips in a third finger, making you choke on them. your moans vibrate against his fingers and he hums in approval of how well you’re doing with no instruction from him.

“you’re doing so well, pumpkin,” toji hums, a string of saliva connecting his fingers to your mouth as he slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth.

alright, fuck it. this sends you over the edge. your lips crash into toji’s, teeth hitting each as you both get to know the shape of each others mouths. you bite his lip and that’s all it takes for toji to pull you onto his lap and deepen the kiss with his tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth. you feel the vibrations of his groans and your hips grind into his thigh as you put your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you can to him. your legs wrap around his torso as his hands grab your ass harshly. you let out a yelp into his mouth, daring not to end the kiss.

“oh you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, pumpkin?” toji breaths against your neck after breaking the kiss. he begins to kiss your neck and you moan his name embarrassingly load.

“tojiiii~” you whine, “i need you, please~” you try to move your hips against him to feel some friction in the place you need it the most.

“shhh, you’re gonna wake m’gumi up,” he slurs in a low voice, already drunk off of your warmth. "not so fast, pumpkin", he says as he stills your hips, "i call the shots here." he grins and before you even know it, your back hits the sofa and he pulls your legs up on his shoulders.

you feel exposed, as shoko's pleated skirt does a poor job of leaving anything to the imagination, and all of a sudden, you really wish you wore your trusted boy shorts instead of your black lace thong under it. as he starts to kiss your ankles while looking deeply into your eyes, you see nothing but primal lust on his face. he lightly bites your ankle, making you slightly yelp before covering your mouth, remembering megumi upstairs.

toji's eyes wander to your sweet spot, and it's taking everything in you not to thrust your soaking core into his hungry face. "oh, is that where you want me to touch you?" he teases, his hands running down softly from your ankles to your inner thigh. your hips wiggle side to side, hoping his fingers end up grazing your aching core, but toji holds you hips down roughly. he scoots back and peppers your leg with kisses, slowly inching up and up until he's mere inches away from your panties.

he plants a wet kiss on your clothed mound and you let out a pathetic mewl as toji shoots his head up and stops dead in his tracks. "make another noise, pumpkin, and we end this right now and you go home frustrated and upset." he warns. unfortunately, this turns you on even more and your hands are over your mouth immediately, eyes shut closed, praying toji pities you and gives you some release.

you feel toji take off your panties agonizingly slowly, and your breath hitches. "oh, your panties are fully ruined. better get rid of them." toji says as he tosses them somewhere across the room.

"it's your fault..." you say, you voice a low whisper through your hands.

toji starts back at your mound again and moans into the kiss in agreement. his fingers lightly touch your core, and you shiver in anticipation. "oh, this is where your sensitive, right?" toji teases, as his fingers finally start circling the part of your delicate bud you've been aching for toji to touch. you bite your hand to prevent yourself from moaning loudly, and take deep breaths so to not make any noise.

toji starts circling your sensitive bud with his fingers, moving with your hips as you get to a rhythm that has you on cloud nine. you feel the familiar build up beginning, when toji abruptly takes his fingers away, leaving you breathless and practically whining from his lack of touch. "ohhh, don't worry, pumpkin. i just wanna taste you," he coos, before diving mouth first into your sensitive bud once more, tasting every inch of your delicate core.

this time, you're unable to hold back and your deep breaths are practically moans. you're laughing, whining, crying...you're not actually sure. you're mind is clouded by the pleasure toji's tongue is sending through your body.

toji's fingers start teasing your entrance as your hips buckle and you start grinding on his face. you're making a mess on his sofa but you don't even care, and neither does toji. "oh, toji, fuck~ that feels...soo good...fuck~" you whine. you're practically begging for his fingers inside you, and toji finally complies and inserts his finger inside you.

"please toji~", you whisper, "i need more, please, please."

"wow, someone's a bit greedy. one finger just isn't enough for a slut like you, huh?" toji chides, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your body. he inserts two more fingers, and you feel a pang of pain, which makes you yelp.

"toji~ it's too much," you cry out, unable to handle three of his large fingers inside you at once.

"oh, now it's a problem? you can take it, pumpkin." toji encourages, moving his fingers at a moderate pace while his mouth is still playing with your delicate bud. the pain slowly turns into pleasure, and the pleasure slowly turns into an inevitable build up that's starting to cloud your vision.

"toji~" you whine. "i'm getting so close, please..." you trail off, trying your hardest to lower your moans.

"please what?" toji asks, knowing full well what you wanted, and that he was the only person able to give it you. toji's member was practically begging for escape against his dark pants, but he was far too drunk on your sweet nectar. he doesn't remember the last time he tasted someone as addicting as you.

"please, can i...c-can i...?" you don't get to finish your sentence before toji groans a "yes" into your core, and the dam that had been building finally burst as you release all over toji's face.

you pant heavily as you finish, hoping you weren't too loud. toji lifts his head from between your legs and immediately darts to your lips, kissing you deeply before you can say anything. you moan into the kiss, still feeling the effects of your orgasm rippling through your sensitive body. you taste yourself in toji's kiss and you never want it to end. a whine escapes your mouth when toji's lips finally disconnect from yours, an unashamed smile playing on toji's face. "did you like that, pumpkin?" he asks.

you're still catching your breath as you nod and smile, gazing at him softly. you can't help but want to return the favor for toji, as you slowly get up and scan toji up and down. god, he's so fucking fit.

you scoot closer to toji, maintaining eye contact, and placing your hands on his upper thigh. oh my god, his legs are just pure rock hard muscle. your hands shake slightly as they make their way on top of toji's hard straining member. toji chuckles as you grasp him over his dark pants, stopping you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist and moving it away from him.

"woah, hold on there y/n. it's 11pm. a bit too late to start something now, dontcha think?" he inquires, raising his eyebrows at you.

heat rises to your cheeks and you feel so embarrassed you could combust. oh my god, wait, does he not want you to return the favor? the insecurity showed up immediately on your face, with your lips frowning and eyebrows scrunching. toji cups the side of your face endearingly and his thumb grazes your lower lip before letting it sit there.

"hey, don't give me that look. i want this. i want you but...it's late. megumi has school tomorrow and it's parent teacher night. i know you have class, too," he explains.

you pout, but not before sucking toji's thumb that was grazing your lower lip and giving it a wet kiss. "that's not fair~ i really want to return the favor toji..." your voice trails, as you already know this conversation is over. you sigh as you turn away from him and reach for your notebook and laptop on the coffee table. you get up and bend down to grab your bag and start packing your belongings and fishing out your keys.

you hear toji hum and turn around to see the gears twisting in his dark eyes that are fixated on you. wait, hold on. he's not looking at you. he's looking at your ass. and he's being so obvious and unashamed about it, too!

you blush and roll your eyes as you chide toji. "wow, so you don't want me to suck your dick but you're gonna look at my ass as i leave?"

toji laughs earnestly and the sound of his laughter makes you feel warm and relaxed inside. you could probably live the rest of your life hearing that laugh. wait, what? rest of your life?

"first off, i do want you to suck me off, pumpkin. second, am i not allowed to respectfully admire? anyway, i was thinking. maybe you come with us to the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow? you practically help the kid with his homework every other night, and i think he really sees you as someone he can trust." toji says, bringing you out of your thoughts. you notice the hidden solitude behind his eyes, and feel a pang of melancholy in your heart. you don't know much about toji and megumi's mom, and you never thought it appropriate to discuss with either one of them, so you always let it be. a part of you is curious and another part is afraid to touch such a vulnerable side to toji, fearing it may alter your relationship with him permanently.

"we can grab dinner before, too. my treat." toji winks, and you scoff. he never even makes sure there's food for you at home before he leaves, always leaving you to pay for your own dinner every night you babysit, let alone pay a meal for you.

you roll your eyes, trying to act upset, but a giggle breaks out anyway. "yeah, i'd love to." you respond genuinely.

you finish packing up your things before searching for your discarded panties in toji's living room. "looking for these?" toji teases, holding up your lacy black thong, still ruined with the mess you made earlier today.

"give 'em back, toji~" you say, trying to reach for the panties from toji, before he stuffs them in his pocket.

"i think i'll keep these actually. they need to go in the laundry anyway, might as well be here." he teases, as you pout. toji cracks an evil grin, knowing deep down you must love having to go back home without any panties in your short skirt.

and he was right, you kinda did love it. a blush creeps up to your cheeks as you shake your head in dismay. "you're so fuckin' annoying, y'know?" you say as toji interlaces his fingers with yours as he walks to you to the door.

"yeah, i know. let's see if you're still that mouthy after you choke on me tomorrow," toji says, giving you a playfully menacing look.

the cool air of the late night nips at your skin, making you shiver, but you know deep down that has more to do with thinking about all the things toji will do to your poor throat tomorrow evening. "hm, we'll see...," you say, as your breath hitches slightly. you stand up on your tippy toes to give a quick peck goodnight to toji.

you honestly should've known better because toji immediately leans forward and turns the quick kiss into a deep make out session in the chill yet humid night air. he's quick to grab your ass, and you're quick to regain your senses and break off the kiss. oh my god, what if someone saw us, you think, recalling all the girls in the neighborhood that fawn over toji and the fact that you weren't wearing panties thanks to toji.

"stop toji~ it's late like you said," you whine, wriggling out of his strong grasp. you turns you around, you back flush against him and he laughs into your neck, arms wrapping your hips tightly from behind.

he releases you but not before giving you one last squeeze. "goodnight, pumpkin."

"night, toji," you say softly as you turn around and head to your car in the driveway. you do a poor job of pulling your skirt down as low as it can possibly get without you looking incredibly stupid, and cross your arms in the cold breeze.

you hear the door close, and start up the car engine and back out, relying only on muscle memory to get you home, as you spend the entire five minute car ride thinking solely about everything that happened today. how were you ready for another release already? you make a mental note to charge your vibrator when you get back to your apartment.

just as you pulled into the drive way, you jaw fell and you remembered. oh shit wait, he still hasn't paid me.

[schalotte]

lukewarm takes in the reading response moodle forum 😔

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 6 "Seven Minutes in Hell" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

Everyone would immediately assume the killer is me.

Are you one of those idiot savants who's heavy on the idiot, light on the savant?

I am simply a victim of my times.

Are you aware your pants are on backwards?

Then whose fault is it?

I am never talking about anything ever again!

Yeah, super sorry about what happened down there.

Why are you laughing?

What about that fit you threw down there?

You're not mad at me?

Oh, I meant everything I said about you.

I still think you're useless. I'm just not sad about it.

You never, ever want to be the boss in a time of extreme crisis.

As soon as you become the boss, you get a target on your back, from the feds, the other families, ambitious underlings.

Sure, seems like you have all the power, but you also take on the most risk.

Oh, don't judge me for trying to stay alive.

Do not give an inch.

What's your game here?

I trust you about as far as I can throw you.

I know we don't know who the killer is, but we know it traces back to this house.

There are two things that always happen at a slumber party; someone experiments with lesbianism and secrets are revealed.

We can create situations and scenarios to really prime the pump.

We'll lock everybody up overnight, and we're bound to find out something.

A slumber party sounds fun.

Let's play spin the bottle.

Someone always goes lesbian.

We're playing spin the damn bottle.

Why spin the bottle?

That is not a nasty rumor. That is a true rumor.

So I propose a panty raid.

You taste like wax.

I guess we have to kiss.

You're a great kisser.

Was I interrupting you?

I was just practicing looking disinterested.

I'm pretty sure I was born without that part of the brain that actually feels stuff.

We have so much in common.

I'm starting to think we have something very important and specific in common.

My sex life up until this point is what you'd call unusual.

I think the only way to be sure of your feelings is if you let me gently rub your uterus right now.

When I love someone, it drives them insane.

Believe me when I say that if it was possible for me to feel anything I would totally be crying right now.

That doesn't seem healthy.

All the doors are locked solid. Windows, too. Upstairs and down.

I decided to have the whole house turned into a panic room.

But wait, doesn't that mean that there's some sort of switch somewhere to deactivate it?

I hate being trapped in small places.

There's only one reason why the killer would do something like this-- to pick us off one by one.

Guess it's just a matter of time before one of us or all of us ends up dead.

You have to help us.

Look, I'm prepared to say I'm sorry I did that.

What I'm not prepared to do is say the sex was bad.

Yeah. I'm not gonna apologize for that one.

I'm about to get murdered, so can you please just hang up and get over here?

How on earth are we supposed to get in if all the doors and windows are locked?

Dude, we climb up the ladder, break the windows upstairs, save all the girls, climb back down, then it's vagina city for all of us.

Why would you bomb-proof upstairs windows? For what, like, a flying bomb?

Don't be an idiot.

It's hero time.

Save me and I'm yours forever.

I'm not really sure I'm ready for that level of commitment.

Break the glass!

Stand back, fair maiden.

Give him the dignity of watching him die.

Someone in this house definitely knows who the killer is.

It's truth or dare time.

Whatever it takes to stop the douche that's trying to kill everybody.

I mean, do you ever just stop and ask yourself if we can actually pull this off?

Maybe we all just need to get out of here.

The best way to avoid a shark attack is to not go in the water.

We all have a crisis of faith sometimes.

Maybe you're hiding something.

I'd pick truth and then just lie.

If you want to lie, you can just pick dare.

That's the whole point of truth or dare. You can't lie.

Does your vagina have teeth?

I'm not lying.

My vagina doesn't have teeth.

Does your vagina still have teeth?

So it used to have teeth, but you got them removed?

So your vagina still has teeth.

Sounds like you're trapped in a web of lies.

You're forfeiting your turn, bitch.

Okay, I guess it's my turn, then.

You promised you wouldn't tell.

Sorry. I had to tell the truth.

Of course you're the killer.

I propose we take a little break, You know, take a whiz, get a refill.

You know what? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever trusted you.

I wanted to talk about the other thing you said, about how you thought you had feelings for me.

The only feelings I have for you now are rage and pissed offedness.

Now go sit in that bathtub and think about what you've done. And try not to rub one out, okay?

Come on! I said I was sorry!

If anybody's down here, please don't jump out at me.

Is that blood?

Wait. If you're gonna kill me, at least show me who you are first.

I knew it. I knew it was you.

Please. You don't have to do this. I could help you.

There's never any food in there. Just laxatives.

I got the impression that you and I are on the verge of being the next "it" couple.

See, this is the problem with texting, you know? You can't hear the context.

Even though I decided to not wear a bra, you haven't been staring at my shirt raisins once.

Okay, look, I was waiting to talk to you about this 'cause secretly I was hoping you'd be killed and I wouldn't have to hurt your feelings.

I just don't think it would work out with us.

You're nuts, and not like a typical crazy-eyes co-ed, but wake-up-with-my penis-in-a-jar lunatic.

I love space mountain. Best ride at Disneyland. But I love my penis more.

Number one-- I never take second place. And number two-- I don't stop till I get what I want.

Was that salad spinner hitting on you?

I am super turned on from her, and I need some sweet release.

Is there any, like, Crisco or cooking oil here? Just, like, dry handies bum me out.

I propose we treat ourselves to a little heaven. Seven minutes in heaven.

Whatever your plan was, it isn't working.

Would you like to pat the little man in the canoe?

I want to take our relationship to the next level.

I want us to be together, but I want it to mean something.

I love boning girls all over this great land. But really, at the end of the day, I just kind of want to bone one girl. Like, that one special girl.

I just didn't think that girl was you. Because, obviously, there's so much wrong with you.

Will you get back together with me?

I would consider taking you back under one condition.

You have to pinky-pledge that you will be monogamous to me.

You will not have sex with anyone else. Do you understand me?

Dude, she looks like prepackaged meat from the supermarket.

Oh, god, has someone checked on the kids?

Pretty convenient that you're the one who found the body.

You're the darkest bitch of them all.

Those are some serious accusations, and they make no sense.

I would be opening myself up to a lot of trouble if I were to turn you in to the authorities.

It doesn't do any of us any good to start accusing each other with no evidence.

I suggest that we just have someone stand guard and watch me for the rest of the night, or until someone else dies, therefore proving that I am not the killer.

This feels so good.

I tried to scream, but nothing came out!

Interesting. That's all I'm gonna say. Interesting.

There is a trapdoor with, like, a tunnel system.

But wait, there are secret tunnels in this house perfect for a killer to use, and you neglected to tell us?

That's a little suspicious.

We are losing sight of the big picture here.

I'm not going down there. I do not dig on cobwebs, and I'm guessing there are loads of cobwebs down there.

If you get murdered in those tunnels, I promise I will never bang anyone harder than I banged you.

You're so rich and hot.

These are the nicest secret tunnels I've ever seen.

Wow. What amazing legacies they all have. What do you think ours will be?

If we can get through this year without everyone getting killed, I think we'll go down as the greatest of them all.

You came back for me.

Purely selfish.

You are probably the worst cop ever.

Wait, where are we going?

I won't go!

In three seconds, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out of here.

I just kind of came over here because I farted over there and it smelled bad.

Wait, you're a lesbian?

Basically, I'm in love with love.

The next time I feel love for someone, I'm going to tell them. Right away. Just in case they're murdered before I can.

I just feel like I'm never gonna find a guy who likes me.

I'm a freak.

Nobody actually likes me.

You are totally gonna find another guy.

They're custom-made pink nunchaku.

Thank you for making that announcement that no one cared about.

No slumber party is finished without a kickass dance party.

This is so wonderfully random.

What a great way to pretend all these people we know weren't brutally murdered.

[animanightmate]

[Image description: A series of tweets by Q. McLamore (@GhawinRiver). Text follows:

"Remember when girls were just tomboys?" I see this talking point a lot, and I call BS.

No, actually, no I don't. What I do remember is parents being paranoid their girl was a lesbian and trying to force them into ballet classes instead of boxing and football like they wanted.

What I remember is the DSM-IV explicitly calling a refusal to wear dresses and an interest in video games symptoms of a mental illness. I remember girls begging their parents to let them have short hair and their parents putting them in Bible camps over it.

So, no, ads run on my feed by Texas Conservatives, I don't remember when girls were "just tomboys," because you creeps didn't accept that either in the '00s and don't actually accept it now; you just find it less objectionable than a single-digit percentage of Gen Z being trans.

Like, if the image of a girl kicking a boy's ass on a playstation is supposed to be "the good old days," why'd I have to smuggle Pokemon on a game boy to girls I was friends with because that was "for boys?"

Why'd my partner's parents only ever get games for her brother and never for her? Why'd they never accept her masculine interests in fighting, or engineering, or mathematics, or contact sports? Why'd they police her body and food intake to make her more feminine?

Any way you slice it, gender non-conforming girls never did get to just "be tomboys," because you assumed their "masculine" interests were a phase and wouldn't let them get better at them than the boys were and would insist they let the boys win to spare their pwecious feelings

This narrative they're trying to spin, that they were fine with gender-nonconforming kids, is just a bald-faced lie to anyone who actually remembers the last 30 years. They weren't fine with lesbians, and they weren't fine with hetero tomboys either, and they still aren't.

Because the second they've successfully rolled back queer and trans rights, they'll start looking for any sign of closeted trans and queer people, and suddenly they'll start policing expressions of non-traditional femininity YET AGAIN, because that is how this always worked.

End image description.]

Source: here.

Hi! 47yo nonbinary Brit here, cackling at the idea that being even the teensiest bit tomboyish, even in households like mine that prided themself on being "progressive" was anything other than policed to fuck in the 80s.

Sure, I was allowed to climb trees and wear trousers at the weekend, when we didn't have company, but my hair was long, and I was expected to wear dresses/ skirts for every other occasion. After the age of 13, I was expected to get into makeup. I was berated for "walking like a boy" and for cutting bread (man's job) or carving meat (guess what). My father, who taught me these radical habits, plus various DIY skills, still insisted on dresses, e.g. at his wedding, so my expression was still being policed in my 20s, after I'd left home.

(Terrified that he'd queered me, my father's third child was brought up extremely femme in case she developed The Gay. She and I both think this hilarious, now she's in her 20s. As far as we know, she's straight. She's also rejected her parents' fears and is one of the staunchest allies I know.)

Ironically, even in the androgynous 90s, my gender expression in queer spaces was seen as proof of being straight, despite being extremely bi. I'd have to disguise myself aa butch enough to pull/ not be barged on the dancefloor, because I was too indie chick for the butch lesbians - neither masc nor power femme enough for the scene.

But that's another story for another time.

The huge moral panic over femme boys and butch women was a problem even on parts of the queer scene, judging by the sheer number of "straight-acting" self-descriptions in gay dating ads. And do NOT get me started on how bi people were treated. I'm afraid I can't tell you much about how trans people were treated as I met a total of two out trans folk, and watched another transition angrily (her, not me), but mostly, if I'm honest, trans identities were pretty much ignored, definitely unsupported, and that breaks my heart to remember.

I want to boost everything this person has said and add on.

The reason I call myself a tomboy now, despite it being seen as a childish word and having had someone swear at me over it because ‘tHeRe’S nO suCh thInG as BoY thInGs anD giRL thIngS sHut uP’ is because I couldn’t call myself that or be like that when I was a kid. It was seen as a negative thing and I was already bullied enough. “Looking like a boy” was the worst thing that could happen to a girl.

And I’m not even 26 yet. We aren’t talking 30+ years ago, we are talking 2000s and even 2010s. It’s only since trans people have become more accepted in the past few years that gender nonconformity has too.

And the people who helped me accept my gender nonconformity more than anyone else? Were trans people. They taught me, “there’s nothing wrong with how you feel. You’re still a valid woman no matter what you wear, how you have your hair or what you’re into ❤️”

And don’t even get me started on how people treat gender nonconforming men. JK Rowling has a lot of nerve to be like “uwu boys can wear dresses and only us gendercrits accept that!” when she has, even in recent works, made femininity in men a negative trait, as well as making masculinity in women a negative trait also.

A lot of people still don’t accept gnc people even now. Just last year I had someone tell me they’d never let their daughter “dress like a boy”, and I’m always terrified to walk into a bathroom in case the next JK Rowling is in there, sees my gender expression and pepper sprays me or worse.

“There’s no such thing as boy things and girl things.” I don’t need to be told that and I’m sure 99% of trans people also don’t need to be told that. Tell that to the society that hates us both instead of actively encouraging that hate.

[rwbyremnants]

WARNING: Angst, Drug use. Non-Freezerburn chapter.

Note: From here on in, there won't be any Freezerburn for quite a few chapters. Don‘t worry, it won‘t be forever, but there will be a lot less of them interacting directly for a while – and there will be other ships instead (we'll try to mention it in the pre-chapter notes though). You have been warned.

=Chapter 22

Ruby Rose was beginning to feel extremely anxious about her sister. It had been almost three full days since the last time they Skyped, and that had mostly been a lot of sobbing and Yang telling her that she couldn't talk, that she had "things to do". There was a lot of apologizing, and self-hatred, but none of it made sense; just a load of gibberish. Since then, she'd only received one text message the day before: 'I'm okay. Sorry to worry everyone.' Short but to the point.

She had just returned from the library with an armload of books, and Penny was out getting some food from the dining hall for both of them. This seemed like as good a time as any to try calling Yang for the hundredth time.

Except this time was not like the last ninety-nine. Because Yang answered. There was a lot of background noise, people chattering and laughing, faint radio music, but it was definitely her sister's voice on the other line. "Hey, Ruby."

"SIS!" Ruby burst out, gripping the edge of her desk and leaning in - as if it would make any difference. "Where have you been - what happened to you?! Weiss has called me a bunch of times, freaking out! I mean, it's cool that's she's calling me, and I still can't get used to that - BUT WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

"Currently? I'm about half an hour from Blake's place." Surrounding Yang was the interior of a rather old diner, filled with quite a few people all being loud and mouthy. She'd been known before to go out for a drive on her bike when she was annoyed or upset, but not this distance. Still, she leant in to the phone herself. "I needed to get away."

"But… why? What's wrong? Weiss said you just picked up and left, and she was really mad one time and really sad the other time, and…" Ruby squirmed. She felt bad, like she was making her sister feel guilty, but she hated being caught between two friends like this, regardless of whether or not one was related to her.

Straight away Yang's hand went into her hair, grasping a good handful and pulling hard as she tried to get her thoughts together. She knew she'd have to hear about Weiss's reaction eventually, but it wasn't any less painful to hear. She could already feel her own tears beginning to well up.

"I know, I know… I bet she hates me, and I'll deserve it. I deserve all you guys ’ hate. But it's way more complicated than that. I had no choice."

"Come on, you know what Dad would say: 'You always have a choice.'”

“Like I could talk to Dad about this,” she sighed wearily. “He did push me to open up, but I don’t… I didn’t know what to say.”

“Sis…" She got up from the desk and carried her phone back over to her bed, laying on her back. She had to adjust her glasses when they tried to slide up onto her forehead. "Just tell me what happened."

Yang's breath had already started to get shaky. She managed to notice a few of the other people in the diner were looking around occasionally, some even pointing and questioning their friends. For someone usually so confident, all Yang wanted to do right now was turn invisible, disappear entirely.

"Winter." She got straight to the point, managing to hide herself in her coat. "Winter happened."

"But… it's still Spring. What are you talking about?"

There wasn't even a faint chuckle. That was how much this had affected her. Everything that made Yang, Yang had seemed to have disappeared, her sense of humor for things being the main one. Instead she just explained further, "Her sister, Winter. Not the season. She found pictures of me from my old Ying Facebook, threatened to out me to the press. I don't care if my reputation gets pulled through the dirt, but it won't be mine on the line if it gets out. It'll be hers."

To Yang's surprise, however, Ruby snorted with laughter. "Oh come on, you're gonna have to do better than that. She can't have a sister named 'Winter', that's dumb."

Sobbing quite clearly down the phone, she stared downward toward the table a moment, trying to keep the tears in. She couldn't cry here I public, not when right now she was still on the news occasionally. Weiss would see it, or worse, Winter would. "God, how I wish it was all a lie and I was making it up, but it's true. She didn't even let me say goodbye, or leave a note. She told me to just take off…"

"You're… you're serious. But Weiss wouldn't do that! She'd never put her reputation above you, not in a million years - that's not the kind of person she is! You know that, don't you?!"

"I know. But Winter is," she emphasized, now simply staring at the mug of coffee that remained on her table, nearly untouched. She hadn't been eating or drinking properly the past few days, unless forced. And this was no different. "I don't care what they think about me, they can call me the T-bomb, a cross dresser, anything under the sun, I don't care. But in the end, it's not gonna be me in the spotlight, it'll be her. The media won't leave her alone if this gets out. And I've done more than enough studying on the subject to find out what happens to celebrities her age that get a story like this all over the media. And it's not pretty."

“Yang...”

She sniffed once more, grasping her hair tightly. "I can't let her risk her entire career for me, her future, a-and maybe even her mental health, just for me. I can't let her do that."

"And you didn't… you don't think Weiss deserves to talk to you about this? I mean…" Ruby wasn't sure what else to say. This was so unlike her sister, to walk away from a situation instead of confronting it head-on. Of course she had Weiss's best interests at heart, but would this really be in her best interests?

"If I have any further contact with her, Winter will release the picture. I can't talk to her about. No matter how much I want to." Pulling at her hair even more, she was beyond caring how much it was starting to hurt. If anything the pain was just a distraction. "Don't you get it? My choice is either risk ruining her life, or look like a piece of shit. I can't win!"

"But you…" She knew she was grasping at straws now, but she couldn't just let her sister believe that the situation was completely hopeless. She couldn't believe it herself; that wasn't allowed. Nobody could put her sister in a situation where she had no choice but to hate herself this way. "There has to be something we can do!"

"I am doing something." Yang finally loosened her grip on her hair, giving herself that relief as she tried to calm her breathing. She'd had plenty of time to think of a plan while she was packing the essentials for Blake's, while she had to keep ignoring the nonstop calls and messages from Weiss that came the first two days. Now, there was just the odd one or two per day, starting to sound more and more defeated with each one. That had spurred on her plan.

"I'm staying away, so she can find someone she deserves. Who she can be happy with. Someone who's not a circus freak."

Ruby sat bolt upright. "Stop it! I c-can't- you know I can't stand it when you say stuff like this, even if it's about yourself, I- you're not a freak! You're my beautiful, strong, awesome sister, anybody would be lucky to have you, even someone as incredible as Weiss, and I… and I'm so mad right now!"

But the blonde just continued to stare outward into nothing. Occasionally she'd catch a stranger's glance again, and end up looking away and hiding herself. Her sister's words meant well, but when she was constantly being watched and pointed out, it didn't help at all. She felt like they were judging her, laughing at her. Like they had the exact same thoughts Winter did. The longer this was going on, the more of her confidence she was losing. The more she was starting to feel like Winter was right – that she was a freak, a sham of a woman. A fake.

And sure enough, she was beginning to sob again, voice high pitched and cracked thanks to the lump in her throat. "J-just… T-tell her I'm safe, I-if she's worried. You can't t-tell her what I told you about Winter though… Please."

The younger girl's voice was hushed when she said, "Don't do that. Don't… make me promise that, Yang - she's really upset. Not just a little, but a lot. Don't make me swear that I can't tell her…" But her voice already sounded dejected. She knew she would make the promise to her sister, and that she would keep it.

"I'm sorry…" Her own voice was just as quiet, just as defeated. "I'm sorry to put this on you, seriously, I am… but I have to protect her. I need to know you'll do that for me."

"Well… I'm not sure this is really protecting her. But I guess I can keep my lips zipped for a little while. As long as I think it’s not gonna hurt more than it helps. Wow, I'm so sorry this is happening, Sis - I thought everything was going so great…"

If anything, that made her sob yet again, finally wiping away the tears from one of her eyes. "It was. God it was, Ruby… That's why it hurts so much to know she's gonna have to hate me. Just don’t have any choice."

At this point Penny had finally made it back to the room, holding two bags full of food for them both from the cafeteria. But upon noticing Ruby was on the phone, she tried to keep herself quiet, only walking over to the desk to prepare each dinner quietly.

"Okay, um…" Ruby's silver eyes darted between her roommate and her phone, and she whispered. "I should go for now, but… listen. You are not a freak, you're not a bad person. And as soon as the semester is over, me and Penny are gonna take you out to Disney, or Knott's Berry Farm or something, okay? Just…" Her breath caught. "I know this'll be hard for a while, but you can get through it - and I can help, if you let me."

Finally, there was a shaky sigh from the other side the line. "I'll give you another call in a few days. Hopefully when I'm less… unstable. But if she asks… I'm safe. That's all she can know."

Penny looked toward her and mouthed "Yang?" , having finished plating up Ruby's pre-prepared meal, handing it over to her. But Ruby didn't take it quite yet. Nodding at her very briefly, she turned back to the screen and said, "I love you, Big Sister. Keep yourself safe or I'll kick your butt."

Then she gave an awkward little wave and disconnected the call. All Yang had managed to do was force a quick smile that didn’t even convince herself before it cut off. After which Penny passed over the plate of food again. Carbonara wasn't exactly doing to be a pick-me-up for something this drastic, but it was a start at least.

"Is she alright?"

"Not even a little." But there was no use in moping; not when she was literally powerless in the situation. Didn't do much to improve her mood as she dug into the food, of course, but it at least kept her from getting any sadder.

The last part of Yang ’ s journey was seen through teary eyes. The phone call was necessary, the final thing she needed to do before she could get on with her so-called plan, but it didn't mean it hurt any less. Now was when reality was beginning to kick her in the gut. The reality that now everything she had was twelve hours and several hundred miles away. Her family, her sister, her lover.

Or now, ex-lover. Yang couldn't see a way out of this anymore. Not when anything she could do would result in her picture being made public. Her career would be destroyed, no doubt her father would have a few things to say, and it would ruin her. Until a time when the world was yet more accepting of people like Yang, or even the possibility their favorite popstar might be gay when she hadn’t already paraded out in a rainbow suit, all she could do was step back, and allow Weiss to live the life she deserved. Without her complications.

The call to Blake wasn't any more fruitful than Ruby's attempts to get in contact. It had been just a quiet voice, asking “ Can I stop over for a few weeks? ” with no further comments as to why. Nor any jokes or witty humor that Blake had gotten used to now that her and her best friend were back in contact. She obliged, but had no clue what to expect when she would finally get there. But thankfully she wouldn't have to wait any longer.

The dark-haired girl smiled at her blonde friend as she made her way toward the townhouse, having parked the bike in a safe enough place. All she had on her was her guitar on her back, and the small trunk-attachment to her bike containing her clothes. She didn't exactly look too happy either, which made Blake step up to be the first to speak. "So… How was the open road? Feel free enough for you?"

But while Yang managed to force herself to chuckle at the comment, it began to descend rather quickly into a disheartened gaze into nothing. And then to teary eyes, then to full on sobbing right on Blake's doorstep.

Instantly, Blake was bending down to wrap her arms around Yang's shoulders. "Hey… hey, girl, don't cry. What's wrong?"

If she wasn't holding the case, she would have hugged straight back. Instead, all she did was nestle her head into Blake's neck, quite literally crying onto her shoulder. And she did so for a good few minutes before she could finally bring herself to speak again. But even that was very few words.

"I-I lost h-her… I-I can't… everything’s- W-We can't…"

"Lost who? Weiss?" Gulping, she looked around the neighborhood nervously and then gripped her old friend's bicep hard as she tried to help pick her up. "Come on, you can tell me about it inside - I'll get you some water."

They managed it eventually. "Here," Blake breathed as she pushed the plastic tumbler full of ice water into her hands. The ice cubes were shaped like stars; apparently, she had a special ice tray and had decided she needed them. "Now… I mean, you're totally welcome to crash in my spare room, but there's no bed in there. Just an old futon."

"That's f-fine…" She wiped away some of the tears with her spare hand, before taking a large gulp of water. The ice cold was a definite comfort to the lump in her throat, and was more than enough to calm her down as well. Downing already half of the cup, she finally placed it down on the coffee table, returning her hands to her knees as she kept staring into nothing.

"I left Weiss… I had to, to protect her. God it's all such a mess…"

Nodding as she sank down into the couch next to her friend, Blake said in a soft, soothing voice, "Yeah, I kinda guessed that. Start at the beginning…"

So Yang did. Blake listened patiently while the whole story about Winter came out, the old pictures and the threats-that-weren't-threats, her sudden flight from the skyscraper where the diva made her home. As they went on, Blake mostly just nodded, though her amber eyes were downcast and sad.

"Wow," she sighed at last, running a hand through her black bangs. "That was a really dick move of her, blackmailing somebody just because she doesn't like that you're dating her sister. What a piece of shit."

"A dick with a point, though…" Yang was still no better off. The tears had stopped at least, but she was still blankly staring outward, unable to give eye contact to even her friend anymore. Deeply sighing, she shrugged her shoulders. "If she can find those pictures so easy, someone who's a professional could, too. It's her or someone else…"

"Um… I hate to play a devil's advocate, but what's to stop them from doing that anyway?" Shrugging, she got up and grabbed a box from the coffee table, pulling it into her lap. It was patterned to look like a stack of old books, but was actually wooden. "You're all over the news still, you and that killer song you two made together. So like… you really think the interest is going to vanish just because you left?"

"Well duh. Of course they could. But if her and I aren't together, them finding out about me isn't going to damage Weiss's reputation, is it? If they did and it's me in the dirt, I don't care. But I can't let Weiss get smeared because of me… I just can't."

The other girl nodded as she opened the box up and began sifting through its contents. Some bits and bobs, a plastic bag. "You're doing better than I would. I'd probably have thrown that Winter jerk out on her ass and let the chips fall where they may, but that's just me."

"As soon as she called me 'sir' I wanted to punch her in the face…" At the thought, Yang's spare hand was clenching into a fist. But when she put the cup back down on the table, it was only then she noticed Blake's box. "What's that?"

"Something important," Blake told her as she opened the bag - and a sharp, earthy aroma filled the room. Taking a pinch of small green flakes from inside, she began stuffing them into the bowl of the pipe in her other hand. "Why didn't you punch her in the face? That sounds a lot more like you than running away, even if you were worried about your girlfriend."

Slapping a hand to her face, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought about that, and eventually groaned rather loudly. "I know, I know. But she’s my girlfriend's sister. And my boss's daughter. I'm pretty sure if I'd have been fired if I did punch her."

But within a few seconds, she sniffed the air. What was that? Yang recognized it, and yet she couldn't put her finger on just what…

"That's fair, I guess… well, not fair but it makes sense. About the least 'fair' thing I've heard of in a thousand years." Then she passed the pipe over to Yang, holding aloft a silvery Zippo lighter. No explanation was given, no hesitation; she just expected her to already know.

And then it finally clicked what that scent was. And what Blake was holding towards her face. "Hoooold the fuck up." She pushed the pipe slightly away. "Is this a hash pipe?"

"No, it's a half-pipe," Blake snorted sarcastically. "And I want you to grind it with your skateboard, bro." When Yang still looked between her and the pipe as if they were both independently crazy, Blake rolled her eyes. "Look. You just broke up with Weiss, and you couldn't control that. Wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything wrong - and you still ended up in this huge mess, being the scapegoat for her sister's bigotry. Now, I have some ice cream in the freezer, but all the ice cream in the world won't do you as much good as a few solid puffs of Mary Jane."

Yang continued to look between the pipe and Blake again. She was completely serious about this. She herself had never touched the stuff, only heard of it in passing and knew a couple of colleagues at Junior's used to smoke up. She was pretty sure Junior himself was on something stronger.

Holding the pipe, she chuckled to herself. "Y'know, never in a million years could I have guessed that my ex, who was such a goody two-shoes she'd never even kissed anybody before me, was gonna be teaching me how to get high."

"Oh," Blake said, trying her hardest not to laugh, "You're holding it backward. Here…" Turning the pipe around, she placed it back in her hand and then held up the lighter. "I'll do this part. You put your finger on that hole in the back; that's the carb. You hold that while you pull the first time, to help get the herb lit. Then you take your finger off and inhale more."

"…In English?" she teased. But holding it just as Blake asked, she knew she had the right idea. Once the herb was lit and the smoke was on it's way, Yang looked down toward it, taking a deep breath in…

Which was a huge mistake of course. Straight away, Yang ended up coughing and spluttering terribly, feeling her throat starting to close back up again. In a strained voice she managed to ask; "What the fuck was that?! Jesus Christ!"

This time, Blake couldn't suppress her laughter, and she pounded Yang on the back while her hand held the pipe still so none of the smoldering embers would spill. "That was your first hit! Huzzah!"

“You fu-” She had to break off to do more coughing. “OW! Ugh, couldn’t you have shown me-” More coughing “-how to do it first?”

"Yeah, that's fair, that's fair. Just wanted you to get first crack at it since… I mean, your need is greater than mine right now."

Taking the pipe from Yang, Blake raised it to her lips and pressed her finger against the carb, flicked the lighter again. Yellow flame sparked into life, then was drawn down into the bowl of singed green as Blake pulled in for a moment. Once her index finger slid off the end, the already-red weed glowed yet brighter. Then she lowered the pipe, looked casually over at Yang…

And nothing. Not for several seconds; no smoke came out. Just when Yang opened her mouth to ask what was going on, Blake finally blew out a heavy cloud directly at her. She coughed yet again, right away wafting her hand in front of her face to rid the smoke. But all she got in return was a smug grin from the woman in question. This still completely warped Yang's mind… That she had talked to Blake after all those years, and now she was getting high with her in her apartment. And they were having fun with it!

"Eww!" she laughed, taking the pipe back from her. "Keep your smoke to yourself, you damn filthy stoner."

"No," Blake told her defiantly. Then she bumped their shoulders together with a small smile. "I promise this is going to help you a ton. I mean, you don't have to - I'm not gonna kick you out if you wanna stop here, obviously. Just, I strongly recommend you try one more time first. See if you can get the hang of it - but try to kind of… 'eat' the smoke, almost."

"Eat the smoke… That sounds so weird, but I'll give it a shot."

Bringing it to her lips, she copied exactly as Blake did, letting the small amount of weed begin to burn as she pulled. Then she removed her finger, watching as it burned brightly. She could feel the smoke, only this time, she attempted to do as was recommended, taking in a small amount that bit at a time rather than just straight up inhaling it.

Satisfied, she lowered the pipe from her face and looked upward, blowing her own cloud upward and into the air. It was the strangest thing she had witnessed for a good while…

"Wow, that was a lot better," Blake said, actually impressed. "Then again, you've smoked enough cock by now…" Snorting, she slapped a hand over her face. "Damn, this stuff acts fast - I normally don't start spewing out stuff I really shouldn't for another ten or twenty minutes!"

"I still can't believe that you of all people smoke this stuff. You never even touched a cock before me," she teased right back. But Yang wasn't feeling any different just yet; if anything, just a little depressed. Had she taken enough? Maybe not. Looking back at the pipe again, she asked, "Can I go again? Or is this a one-shot thing?"

"Hey, go for it," Blake said with a shrug, laying the box of paraphernalia aside for the moment. "Any other day, I'd give you hell for bogarting the pipe, but like I said, this is all you this time. You need this."

"This is just all so new, it's still screwing with my head…" She kept talking about the pipe rather than anything else. Thinking about things may just make them worse if she kept going, and this was Blake's offer to try and help her get better. Taking another hit of the weed, she breathed out the smoke into the air again.

It was only now she was starting to feel the contented buzzing… and a slight numbness in her head. Like something had been opened up. It was a weird way to describe it, but it fit perfectly. Blake wasn't wrong.

Taking the pipe from Yang, Blake hesitated with her both of their hands still on it, eyes narrowed at her old friend. "Ohhhh yeah. You're feelin' it now, I can see it." Grinning mischievously, she raised it to take her own hit, then hesitated to say, "And I mean, I'm sorry if I seemed pushy about it before, but maybe now you're starting to get why."

Sitting right back on the sofa, she stared outward for no reason. She nodded to show she had paid attention to her, but was somewhat out of the conversation entirely. That was until she asked, "So was this your version of Break-up Ice Cream back in the day?"

"Huh?" Blake breathed out along with another plume of herb, lips pursing very slightly toward the end. Then she turned and asked again. "Back in what day?"

"Back when I… Ah crap." She cringed, closing her eyes tightly as she looked to one side. Was this how she was going to get over things? By going over and asking awkward questions about her other relationship. But when she seemed not to mind, she asked, "When it was me?"

That made Blake nod. She looked very slightly less comfortable with the conversation, but perhaps because of the chemicals now in her system, setting off reactions in her brain, it was a barely-perceptible difference.

"Nah. Back then it really was ice cream, and maybe a few appletinis at Junior's. I didn't pick up this habit until a year or so later. Some girl named Coco I worked with was always trying to get me to party with her, and I put her off, and put her off, and put her off…" Realizing she was starting to ramble, she giggled. "Buuuut not forever. Eventually I tried it, and it was just… freeing. Easy, and nice. Helped the troubles melt away, helped me relax."

"I can see the appeal. I mean, I just went for a shit tonne of booze but now that I think about it, that's really expensive…" She was beginning to ramble herself. Two hits were enough of the weed for the time being. It was enough to make her feel numb, but open her mind when thinking of what to say. And one thought…

"Wait, Coco… Tall girl? Never takes off her sunglasses or beret?"

"Yeah, that's her," Blake answered offhandedly, breathing out another hit of smoke; this time, she managed to make a tiny ring that slowly made its way up toward the ceiling. "And this shit can be expensive, too, but my guy has pretty fair prices. Nothing like what you'd see out in Colorado, though…"

"Maybe we should road trip there…" Although she was impressed by the ring that faded on the ceiling itself, she was clearly thinking herself, until she raised her hand up to snap her fingers. "Okay, I just remembered! That Coco girl was that girl I fucked… Like way back in school at a party I wasn't supposed to be at. Small world."

Blake was staring over at her with wide eyes, hand raised to pass the pipe back to her again. "You are shitting me. Yang, you are totally shitting me right now - you banged Coco?! That sassy asshole?!"

She stared at it a moment, debating whether or not to take another hit. But in the end she did, accepting it from her hands for a moment and getting it ready. But she continued first, "Dude I was, like, fifteen? She was a little older. I was a hormone-driven little virgin and we were both drunk as fuck. Put us in a room together and of course we'll end up banging each other's brains out."

"Well, I can tell you from experience that she was the lucky one in that equation," Blake laughed as she watched Yang took another long pull from the pipe, still full of disbelief. "You're a much better kisser - and I mean, we remember how the rest of it went."

Blowing it the smoke again, and attempting to make a ring just like Blake did, yet failing miserably, she looked back over, still holding the pipe to herself for a small while longer. She certainly did know the rest. With her mind buzzing as much as it was, she found herself grinning as she remembered the moments together. Even the sappy stuff. "I liked how you'd kiss me on the neck to try and get me in the mood, but then act completely innocent about it… Please tell me you do that to Sun, because he'll love it."

"Oh, God!" she laughed, mortified and covering her face with both hands. "Stooop! I was such a little dumbass…" Then she lowered them and pointed at Yang as she said, "What about you, with your smooth 'I'll act like I'm stretching so I can put my arm around you in the movie theater' routine?!"

But Yang only continued to smirk, and eventually gazed right back at Blake, raising her eyebrow. "What about that time in the movie theatre?"

Now Blake was squirming a lot more, cheeks reddening both from laughter and from that memory. "See? Even back when we were dating, you had way better moves than Coco - even if they were a little… primitive. And she kisses like she's a dog trying to lick a fire hydrant."

"Dude, dude dude dude; you banged Coco, too?!" Yang assumed, finally passing the pipe back over to her again. "I mean I get she gave you this stuff but wow."

"Wh-WHAT?! Oh shit, I said that, didn't I? Or not said it, but…" Thoroughly embarrassed, Blake had to sit still with the pipe for several minutes before she was able to continue.

"Yeah… I made out with her a few times, some heavy petting. We didn't really… um…" Her hand gestured a little too widely to be normal. "We weren't like you and me were, it was just when we were really stoned and feelin' it, but yeah. Kinda." Then she leaned very, very close and whispered, "I didn't lose my virginity to her like you did, though! Man… I mean, was she good? At that, not kissing; we know she's not great at kissing. She got better toward the end though."

"Nah you only lost your virginity to me." Ending up leaning right back into the sofa, and slightly into Blake as well. She wasn't lying about taking a few hits to unwind completely, all she wanted to do was giggle and/or sleep. But she didn't, she answered Blake's question after a bit of thought. "It was… embarrassing? We ’ re talking eight-ish years ago, though… I couldn't make her finish, she had to do it herself while I made out with her. Or more, while I got a dementor's kiss."

"DEMENTOR'S-" Now Blake laughed so hard that a few tiny bits of weed jumped from the pipe onto the floor, despite her best efforts. "Shit! That's- ffffuuuuuckkkk!!!!"

Yang was too giddy and giggly to care, and simply leant against Blake even more. "She was okay up till then, but like, how does someone think sucking out your soul is a way to kiss? I've had better kisses when Zwei licked my face!"

"Right?!" When she looked down at the pipe, she noticed most of the herb was ash, so she managed to push herself to her feet. "Whoa…" Wobbling, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "Be right back," and headed for the bathroom, carrying the pipe with her.

While Blake had left her on her own, Yang kept sinking further and further back into the sofa, only now taking the opportunity to rest her arms across the back of it. She was tempted to do it while Blake was sat with her by habit, but stopped as soon as she mentioned it was an old tactic of hers.

Not that those thoughts of Blake were back. That ship had sailed, which was a firm belief even when she was high as a kite. But some cuddling and giggling wouldn't hurt, not after the miserable half week she had just endured.

By the time Blake got back, she was tilting her head and staring toward the ceiling, clearly deep in thought about something. "Ready for round two?" Blake was sighing as sat, reaching for the box. As she did, she caught sight of the look on Yang's face and said, "Or… are we? You okay over there?"

Still staring up at the ceiling, Yang tilted her head in Blake's general direction. At least to let her know she was talking to her. "If Plastic is made from dead dinosaurs… And dildos are made from plastic… does that mean I've been fucked by a dinosaur, or that Weiss fucked me with a dinosaur?"

Of course, Blake dropped the Zippo in surprise at the bold statement. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA, she what?!" Then she laughed slightly as she retrieved it from the floor. "Woooow, girl, you guys were deep in it if she was willing to buy dildos! I mean, especially when they have to go where yours go."

"Oh it was pretty deep alright. In both ways if you know what I mean… eh??" She was back to giggling again, face creasing up as she tried to stop herself from having another giggle fit. Although upon noticing Blake was going for more of the weed, she started to smile. "Remind me to get some of that one day, this shit's good."

"I'll hook you up before you leave, if you want." Packing the bowl a second time, Blake cleared her throat and asked, "I mean… I knew you said you took it in the ass when you were with guys. Kinda figured that. But I guess I wasn't expecting you to keep doing that if you're with… you know. A vagina-having girl." Then she flashed a sheepish grin over at her old friend. "Sorry if I said that in a dumb way."

"You're fiiiiiine." There was emphasis on that part as she finally looked back toward her again, eyes half closed in her happy daze. "I was surprised too. There I was showing her a nice hanfu I bought, then next minute there's a biiiig blue strap-on in my face."

"STRAP-ON!" Blake was literally gaping at her, jaw almost to the floor. "Wow, you guys- that pop princess actually…" Then her brow wrinkled. "What's a 'hanpoo'?"

Now Yang was in her giggling fit however, face creasing up yet again as she wore a ridiculous grin on her face. Blake now knew that a popstar who was once famous for her Christianity was apparently quite the freak in the bedroom. And that wasn't even the half of it. Though the pronunciation of the dress also didn't help her giggling. "It's 'Hanfu', it's like a nice dress. Something we wear at formal occasions."

"Something trans people wear at formal occasions? Why did I not know about this?" Finally finished packing the bowl, she raised it to her lips as she asked, "Does Laverne have one?"

Laughing yet again, she sat herself upright so she could be ready to take it after Blake. "You dumb fuck, try the other minority I am. Y'know, the Chinese side?"

Blinking, Blake sat there for a few seconds as she processed that information. "Ohhhh." Then she smiled over at Yang. "You were always kinda… resistant to your heritage. Didn't care much. That's great for you if you're embracing it more, like… yeah, man. Be all the parts of who you are, and stuff."

"Was more to shut dad up and sate Weiss's curiosity. Though it did look really nice I think…" Then gradually her smile was slipping. Still dazed, but slipping. "She's got the pictures though… I'll have to show you another time…"

Blake didn't notice at first; she was too busy hitting the pipe. Then she looked over as she blew out the smoke and saw Yang backsliding into melancholy. She looked at her for a minute, contemplating. This could get a lot worse if things kept going in that direction.

"Hey, wanna try something fun?" she said with a wicked glee.

Blinking a couple of times, she looked back around to her, tilting her head. That was a smile she recognized… But couldn't remember why. But she was too dazed to care. "Fuck it, whatever it is, go for it."

Still grinning and trying not to giggle, Blake took another huge drag on the pipe, sucking in far more smoke than was usual. Then she motioned for Yang to lean closer, turning in her direction with tiny wisps spilling from the corners of her mouth. Looking toward the smoke coming out of her mouth, she wondered just what she was up to. She had suspicions, but was too stoned to care.

Her suspicions were well-founded. The hand holding the lighter pulled down on Yang's chin just enough to open her mouth, then leaned in and pressed their lips together - but instead of kissing her, she started blowing the smoke hard and fast into Yang's mouth. And without warning, Yang was breathing it in. Thankfully she wasn't so unprepared she was coughing and spluttering like the first hit, but she never expected to be locked lips with Blake again. But again, she was too stoned to care about drawing back straight away.

Eventually she did however, and breathed the smoke out toward their side, ending up staring into the dilated pupils of her 'tutor'.

"…Well."

"Huzzah, Yang Xiao Long - you have just been shotgunned." Blake was smiling a secret smile, one Yang would remember all too well. A smile that displayed opportunities to her. But she didn't do anything else, didn't move in again; she just held up the pipe and lighter for Yang to take next.

Yang looked back down at it a moment, and then back toward her. Once again, the smile was beginning to come back. Tonight, Yang was going to forget everything for a while. Forget that she was still upset about what happened with Winter, forget the boundary she had set herself of 'never going back'. She was going to be selfish.

Taking the pipe, she copied just what Blake did, taking a deep breath in and holding it in her mouth. And then she took Blake's lips, breathing it out into her mouth just as she did for her. That was the first step, but she sensed there was more to come. This time, Blake also drew back to breathe the smoke out… but only an inch or two. They were too close, too intimate for just smoking buddies.

"This is… good stuff," she whispered, licking her lips. Yang's had been on them a second ago, warm and soft.

Even if she was still holding the pipe upright, Yang waited until both of them were finished exhaling the smoke, before she acted on her selfish instinct. In four years, she never forgot that smile, or what it meant. It was one of those things she knew by heart. Their lips met, and she was kneading against them slowly and intimately. At times she bit her lips, others she was lightly gasping for breath. Everything about it was needy, like she'd been deprived of it for years.

There was a surprised "Mmmhh!!" from the brunette when Yang changed the game, but she didn't resist, didn't pull away or stop her. After the first few seconds, her body began to respond, lips smashing back with as much passion and desire, hands coming up to wrest on Yang's sides instead of taking the pipe and lighter back. The familiar feeling of their mouths entwined gave way to tongues seeking out each other in record time, and quiet sighs of contentment came out through her nose here and there.

Memories were starting to push out the more recent ones. She remembered what Blake liked after all this time, memories brought back by her own 'style' of kissing. She brushed her tongue against the side of Blake's on occasion, still sometimes breaking to gasp and sigh in contentment. 'God I missed this,' she thought to herself, expression loosening from its melancholy to that of relaxation. A breath of cannabis was one thing to calm her down, but the breath of Blake was another altogether.

All the while, she tried to keep a hold of the lighter and the pipe, but that was getting increasingly difficult. After some time, Blake seemed to realize that the pipe was still in play. She drew back with a needy moan of regret and took them away from Yang, raising her pipe to her mouth without another word.

But her eyes… they stayed on Yang this time. It was as if she couldn't look away from her anymore. Didn't want to.

Just as Yang did with her. Maybe it wasn't in the same loving way she would have done those years ago, but it was still a need. A selfish need to try and pick herself up, and have what she wanted. Screw what anyone else thought, she was going to make out with Blake. And she was going to like it. No one could stop them, not even…

"Oh, fuck…" The dazed eyes closed shut tightly for a moment as she cringed. She never moved away, but the passing thought couldn't go unannounced. "Your boyfriend… Sun…"

"Right… RIGHT!" Blake set the pipe and lighter down on the coffee table very carefully with shaking hands, then turned to gape at Yang. "Shit, I was just chilling with you and totally forgot… that might be a thing, right? Oh man…" Running a hand through her hair, she flopped back against the couch. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this… I mean, shotgunning you, turning it into something else. Too far, and you just got here and everything!"

Yang ran her own hands over her face and dragged them downwards, pulling her lower eyelids with them a moment. Why did that thought have to come up now? When she was so stoned off her ass she couldn't think straight! Even if she wasn't panicking, which would have been a very Yang thing to do given the situation, she groaned outward.

"No, it's my fault," she began, looking down at the pipe again. "I shoulda just asked for ice cream as soon as I got in, or shoved you away… Awh fuck, I've ruined everything again…"

"Nah, dude," Blake soothed her as she petted along her glorious blonde hair. "You're fine, it's not…" Clearing her throat, she pulled Yang in and hugged her tightly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I got you stoned, and I'm the one used to handling my high. I was trying too hard to cheer you up and not thinking about how I was doing it, so… I'm really sorry, okay?"

Looking downwards toward the floor, she said nothing. Not agreeing, not disagreeing. They were both to blame, deep down Yang knew it. But with all of the self-hatred she was still feeling from the past few days, she couldn't believe it. She could only put the blame on herself.

And the flood of memories started to come back, as did the crashing reality of what she had done. She kissed someone else. Her ex. Her ex who was in another relationship, while she still was trying to get over hers. Even if she had to leave, it still felt like cheating. Cheating on the woman she loved with her best friend. And that crashing reality had bought the tears back into her eyes, and made her fall forward against her own knees, putting her face against them as she cried loudly once again.

"Fuck," Blake breathed, clutching at Yang's back all the more tightly. "God am I an idiot… don't cry, Yang, I d-didn't mean to make it worse…" But Blake was already crying herself, from the mere fact that Yang was. "I was g-gonna get us ice cream next… I'll get you some if you stop, okay? Damn it…"

"I-I just… ruined your relationship too…" she sobbed, but instinctively leant into her warm hug. Even if it felt like the worst thing she could do, she was still so desperate for intimacy she did it anyway, nuzzling against her. "Why do I ruin everyone's lives?! What did I d-do to deserve this?!"

Blake pulled back to gaze into her face, one hand gripping her neck hard. "You're not ruining anything! This is just a… weird thing, we're old friends who are really high right now! I don't care, Sun won't care - it's not gonna be a big deal, I promise."

She didn't make eye contact, or at least she tried not to. All she did was continue to let the tears fall. Maybe the more recent events were salvageable, but she felt there was something that wasn't. "But I ruined everything with Weiss now…"

“ Shush with that, ” she told Yang, kissing her cheek gently. Like she was made of glass. “ You did the best you could with a horrible situation … I don ’ t know if I could even have done as well as you. Seriously, God, I would have clawed her eyes out if that was me! ”

Looking downward into the ground, Yang couldn't think of anything else to say about it. She did all she could, or, all she could without making things violent. Maybe that would be the better option. Or…

"Maybe she's right…" Yang said quietly. "She was young and never had even a kiss before me… Maybe I did take advantage without thinking about it…"

"Don't go down that road. I went there after we broke up and it didn't get me anywhere." Then she cringed. "Damn, shouldn't have said that; I'm not trying to make this about me. But yeah, I felt guilty about all kinds of shit, and blamed you sometimes, and I mean… what was the point? When it comes down to it, we would have torn each other apart if we stayed together back then, so it was just the best for everybody involved. Not that my brain was ready to admit that right away."

Sniffing again, Yang's sobs were starting to die down. It was only tears that continued to fall. "But this is different…" she began, hunching her shoulders. "We both had personal problems back then. I was discovering myself and you were still really anxious about people in general. Me and Weiss?" She was starting to ramble. But again, she was too stoned to care. Even if it was getting personal.

"I'm more or less done with my growing. But she… she has so much further to go. She hates her own body, hated it to the point she nearly cried when I first saw… all of her. And she's insecure of how people will judge her… How her father will judge her. A girl that's been repressed so long and I was the only one that treated her like a person… Of course she'd have felt things for me! But I should have held mine back, been a good enough person to let her grow more rather than take advantage…"

Tears were still spilling down Blake's cheeks from before, and Yang's tale didn't help anything. "You're such a good person… even though you were just trying to do what you thought was best, you still beat yourself up like this…" Her hand came up and began caressing Yang's face, thumb smoothing over her eye and nose on accident in her altered mental state. "You didn't take advantage of Weiss, okay? She's an adult, you're an adult, you were adulting together. It's just… one of those things."

Things had died down. Now she was just back to the same state she had been for the past few days. At least, now with the addition of being completely relaxed thanks to the weed. That was one plus side at least. After a moment of staying in Blake's grip, she sighed.

"Maybe I should think about this more when I'm not high as a kite."

"Maybe," Blake said with a shrug. "But I mean, sometimes being high helps me think shit through. Gives me a new perspective." She smiled cautiously as she added, "And I'm not going anywhere either way, you got that?"

Thinking on that for a moment, she backed herself up and out of Blake's grip. Only so she could lean forward and rest her head against her shoulder instead. It wasn't exactly anything like a hug or a cuddle, but it was all she had the energy to do, and the only way she could show Blake she was grateful. All that followed was a small whisper.

"Thank you."

[wilwywaylan]

also u know what a Misha / Yuki soulmate AU of ur choice would be great. Like. Especially if they *don't* realize when meeting that they are soulmates. And Yuki just being all "hoping my soulmate is like him but also I kind am falling for him what do"

Well if that’s not a BEHEMOTH of a text..... It was very fun and cute to write ! :D

It starts very slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Misha doesn’t notice it at first. He has observed his own skin, of course, like everyone, looking out for any word scrawled there, no matter how small or unreadable. But in eighteen years of existence, not once has he found a mere letter, and he finally let it go. After all, not everyone has a soulmate, right ? Some people just aren’t lucky. Maybe his soulmate has died young. Maybe his soulmate is too far away, is there a maximum distance ? Or are they very honest, so honest that they never lie ? Does that even exist ? He doesn’t know. And after a while, he doesn’t expect anything anymore.

Until one day, while he’s taking his boxing gloves off, he notices something on his wrist. Something neatly written in tiny cursive. It takes a bit of contorting to finally be read. “I didn’t do it”. Oh. He doesn’t know what he feels. He’s happy, of course. There’s someone at the end of the line, there’s someone for him ! Of course, knowing this means that the person had to lie. And it’s sad. And maybe they are in trouble ? They’re probably in trouble, but right now, with something as vague, he can’t do anything. But still. There’s someone. He has a soulmate. That’s what he says to himself, in the bus, during work sometimes, or when he’s at home. He has a soulmate. There’s someone.

It keeps coming, after that. More and more lies, that slowly develop from his wrist, climb along his arm, all the way to his shoulder. Is his soulmate a consumate liar ? It seems so, because they advance rapidly. Misha soon remarks that they all repeat the same things. “I didn’t do it”. “It wasn’t me”. “I promise”. “I didn’t mean it”. Worse, there’s a lot of “I’m alright”. “Everything is okay”. And the most heartbreaking of them all : “Don’t worry”. He wants to tell them that it’s alright, that there’s someone who worries, who wants to worry, who hears their plea for attention, for help. But how can he ? How can he find one person with only these indications ? He can’t. It’s impossible. Even if he tries with the whole town, it’s still impossible. The world is too big, and there are lots of people who hurt inside while trying to hide it.

Slowly, the lies swallow him, cover his chest, his back, and climb to his eye. He can still see, but the world is lost in a cloud of dark ink, and it starts being too difficult, trying to watch the world through a litteral web of lies. He covers his eye with a bandage, covers his arms with long sleeves and make up, and does his best to find his soulmate, searching high and low, and lying through his teeth to see if it appears on someone’s skin. It doesn’t. He doesn’t let go. And he swears that, whoever did this, whoever made his soulmate hurt so much, they’re gonna pay. They are gonna pay dearly. He counts, lie by lie, and each new one, each tearful denegation of guilt, each plea for help hidden under a reassurance, he’s going to make them pay. And he searches.

—

It starts very slowly. Just a few words at first, on the wrist, in thin cursive. It’s both a blessing and a curse. Yuki is just thirteen, young enough to be at the first stage of the soulmate process, the one where you look everywhere on your body, you hope and you dream that a lie will find a way to your skin, and that someone is waiting for you. And there is someone, someone who, furthermore, seems to be a good person, because the lie isn’t something she’s used to hear (“I didn’t take it”, “it’s not my fault”, and as she saw once, a dreadful “you made me do it”), but a “of course, I’m not angry”. The person is probably someone nice who doesn’t want to worry someone else.

But there’s a downside too. Because as almost all daughters from good families, Yuki has been bethroted to someone during her childhood. She doesn’t know him beside a few short meetings here and there, not long enough to discover him. And, for the bethroted, it’s very bad taste to have a soulmate that’s not the person you’re destined for. If your soulmate is the person, that’s right, that’s good. But that seldom happens. And the man she’s supposed to marry someday doesn’t seem the kind of person to reassure someone, anyway. So she smuggles them as she can.

And the next ones too. “I’m okay”. “It doesn’t hurt”. They aren’t too numerous, slowly climbing around her arm. She hides them with her shirt sleeves, silently thanking the school uniforms for their long sleeves. She has to take them off, of course, for dancing, and has to cover them with make-up. It’s only a stopgap at best. But what can she do ? She can’t break the link, no one can. When you have a soulmate, only death can part you. So she hides them, and prays that no one will see them.

Of course, they notice. And to say they aren’t happy is the biggest understatement of the year. Yuki gets punished. She tries to tell them that it’s not her fault, that she didn’t ask for it, and it just happened. But of course, they don’t listen to her. They never do. So what’s the use in talking ? She stops trying. They punish her for every new lie on her skin, and she never says anything.

People worry. At least a few of them, because even someone like her can have friends. She tries to reassure them. She’s okay, it’ll be okay. She’ll find the soulmate that leaves those kind lies on her skin. And everything will be alright. She doesn’t say what’s on her mind, that there’s no one on that planet who would want to bother with all the bagage she would bring with her. A soulmate wanting to be with her would have to fight her family tooth and nail, to get them to accept them, or at least tolerate them. That would be a lot of trouble for any person, and to get what in the end ? Nothing more than her. Nothing more than a tiny girl, not even pretty, bony, and who seems to have forgotten how to smile. No one would take the challenge, and she doesn’t blame them. It’s alright, she thinks. It doesn’t matter. I’m alright. And she doesn’t look for them.

—

But hope is a resilient flower. No matter how much you try to crush it, it blooms again and again, stronger and stronger. Regardless of how hard she tries to push all those stupid romantic ideas out of her mind to focus on her dancing, the only important thing (but then, the subject of those ballets doesn’t really help), it comes back to her. Especially when she’s at the gym, trying to concentrate on what she’s doing, while the students of the boxing class come to watch the ballerinas during their break.

They are…. she’s almost ashamed to say they are her type. A few of them, at least. Of course, she would never admit it, because having a type is shallow, and no one likes a shallow girl. But still. Some of them seem strong, and muscular, and she likes that in a man, that he’d be strong enough to protect his woman. And some of them are…. quite good-looking, too. Older than her (“shame ! Lusting after older men !”), lots of them with wild and curly hair (“disgusting. Men should be put together at all time”) or long, gathered in buns or ponytails like her (“horrid ! Long hair are for women and bums !”). They grin a lot while watching them (“distateful !”), joke with each other and with the girls when they take a break (“whores, all of them !”), sometimes play-fight between them before leaving (“men should act like men, not like children ! Idiots !”). Yuki still hears her grandfather’s harsh voice each time she glances at the people near the door, but it’s strange, how easier it is to silent it. She doesn’t go and talk with them, of course. Her upbringing is a strong restraint. But sometimes, she wishes she could.

—

It’s funny, strolling to the ballet room during breaks. When the students started going there, Misha wasn’t too enthusiastic. Mainly because he knows them, he’s known them for years, and even the last ones aren’t anything new, behavior-wise. So a bunch of boxer wannabees, all hyped up from their training, running loose in the gym and aiming for the room where a bunch of ladies and gents are practicing the fine and quiet art of ballet ? Recipe for disaster. So he decided to go with them. To keep them in line.

To his own surprise, they were quite disciplined. Well, they joked, and pushed, and acted like dorks, but that was just their way of making themselves interesting. And they still kept quiet enough to not disturb the lesson. So he let them. Now, he joins them for fun.

Maybe not only for fun. He has to admit, it’s fascinating to watch, all those precise gestures, perfectly in synch. And the dancers are quite nice, too. Well… not everyone. At least, he’s not too sure. One of the dancers never joins the others when they are coming to them during a break. When they stop, she just goes to her bag and doesn’t move from there. Maybe she’s shy ? She certainly looks like it. Then again, she’s very tiny, surrounded by taller people, so maybe that’s it ? Or maybe not. She doesn’t look at people in the eye, always glancing at the ground, or on the side, very quickly, as if she doesn’t want to be noticed.

More and more, Misha finds himself looking at the tiny dancer. Discreetly, of course, he doesn’t want to embarrass her. She’s… different. First, because she can’t be older than eighteen, and her hair is already grey, with white strands here and there. She’s small even for a ballerina, with bony cheekbones and pointy elbows. She always wears black tights and leotard, and her ballet shoes are black too. In the middle of colorful outfits, it’s rather obvious. But as small as she is, her gestures are assured, precise, extremely graceful, and it’s quite fascinating to watch, this tiny girl jumping like she doesn’t weight anything, spinning round and round, curving and bending her back like a bow. Misha can help but stare, and wish she would join them so he can compliment her. But she never does.

To be honest, he is curious. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk with them because they look scary ? They are taller than her, even Menthe who compensates her smaller stature by a loud mouth, and they are rambunctious. Maybe she just likes quiet. But there’s something… Something weird. Something he can’t explain, a feeling… It’s in the way she glances at the others without ouvertly watching. How she always leaves distance between her and the others. Even when she just walks, she tiptoes around them, never once looking up. She seems nervous, too. Jumpy. There are words sneaking around her wrist, so she has a soulmate, but they are hidden under smudges of make-up half-erased by her moves. She doesn’t want anyone to see them…. or maybe it’s her who doesn’t want to see ? It’s unclear, but one thing is certain : something in this situation is wrong, and Misha doesn’t know what. But he worries.

—

It’s a day like any other days. Yuki’s feet hurt, the bruises hurt too but in a different way, it’s raining outside and the noise of drops falling on the glass roof numbs her mind. She’s tired, and there’s but one thing on her mind : quickly showering so she can go home, do her homework and have some sleep. Maybe eat something, but to be honest, that’s not at the top of her priorities. Not with that knot never leaving her stomach.

She’s crossing the hallway, trying to remember if her bus card is still valid, when something bumps into her and sends her to the floor with a crash. And something that sounds like a swear. She blinks once, twice, to focus again. There’s someone standing before her. One of the men from the boxing class. The tall one, with strikingly red hair gathered in a bun, and an eyepatch. And scary, scary, pointy teeth. The one who looks intimidating but never raises his voice. She’ll never admit it out loud (not even to herself), but she kinda… finds him… attracting ? Maybe ? There’s something in him, she doesn’t really know what, but… he’s noticeable. Very noticeable, and not just because of his hair.

The man is looking at her, tall, even taller from her spot on the floor, and she can’t help but shiver. He bends down, and instead of the flow of curses she awaits, he just holds out his hand, and says in a soft, deep voice :

- Are you alright ?

The gentleness startles her more than any scream could have, and she just looks at him, blinking rapidly like a malfunctioning toy, trying to make sense of what’s just happening.

—

Misha looks at the tiny girl sitting on the floor and looking at him, finally. She has huge eyes, grey, or maybe brown. Or something in-between. A strange, cristalline color. And he can see it so well because they are huge, circled in white, as she looks at him like…. like she expects him to step on her right now and go on with his day. He holds out his hand, ahd she just blinks, like she doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Finally, she takes his hand to jump on her feet. Misha has barely the time to notice that she doesn’t weight anything (her hand doesn’t, at least) that she’s already taken it back. She bows, muttering an apology, and off she goes, or rather, she runs, leaving behind her a quite bewildered shark.

—

Yuki starts warming up to Misha after that, at least a little. A few words here and there, a glance, a nod. It’s not much but to be honest, she’s not sure she’d be able to do more than that. At least not without feeling the cold breath of her grandfather on her neck. But opposite of what she thinks, Misha never shows any sign of impatience with her. Bribes of conversation here and ther seem to suit him enough.

He’s…. he’s nice. Really nice. That’s a fresh change of pace from someone who’s used to navigate in the highest spheres, where words are masks everyone puts on to hide their true intentions, and knives to stab you in the back with when they think they have your trust. Not to mention Himiko, whose tongue is the sharpest sword she has. Misha is so different. His words always has one meaning, the one said out loud. Nothing hidden behind them. His “how are you ?” are always earnest, and he always listens to the answer intently. It’s so different.

And sometimes, sometimes, when he gives her a smile or a kind word, Yuki can’t help but wish, somewhere at the back of her mind, that her soulmate would be like him. Not him, of course. She wouldn’t lust after a man, especially not a man so nice. Men like him are reserved to princesses, to models, to queens. Not to tiny, angsty ballerinas. Not to girls like her. So she doesn’t dwell on the idea too much. But sometimes, she wonders what it would be like, to have a soulmate like him.

—

As usual, the ballerinas have left their ballet room to stroll to the boxing one during their break. After all, they say, if the boxers can come and watch them, why can’t they ? Yuki has thought long and hard about this, and has come to the conclusion that it’s not against her grandfather’s orders. Well, not totally. He would probably reprove, of course. But what doesn’t he ? Those last days, she has felt something like… she doesn’t know. A liberation. A seed of revolt that starts growing. She knows she’s going against orders. But, maybe for the first time, she doesn’t care.

The coach announces a break, and the two groups start to mingle. Slowly, Yuki inches closer to Misha, who’s untying his gloves while talking with a girl with cat ears among her bushy hair. She looks ferocious, and the ballerina doesn’t dare interrupting them. Finally, the girl moves away, with a strange smirk that Yuki can’t exactly decode. But she doesn’t really care, because Misha is smiling at her, that strange smile that fills her stomach with butterflies. There’s a huge bruise on his forearm, ugly and blue and purple, and she moves her fingers above it, not wanting to touch in fear of hurting him.

- You’re hurt… is all she manages to say.

He sees her gesture, and smile gently.

- Don’t worry. It doesn’t really hurt. I should just have kept my guard better, that’s all.

Yuki doesn’t really believe it. She knows a lot about bruises, and that one looks really painful. But she’s cut by a prickling sensation, the one that announces that words are about to be written on her skin. What ? Now ? What could be that lie ? What is happening ? She lifts her arm, the one still left untouched until now, it seems. A black line is slowly appearing, like emerging from the depths of a pond rather than one letter at a time. A long line in the same thin cursive.

A line that reads “Don’t worry. It doesn’t really hurt.”

She stares at the words. And stares. And stares again. Suddenly, her heart is pounding against her ribs, hard and fast like it’s going to escape. Her cheeks are burning, and she feels faint, like she suddenly caught a fever. She’s vaguely aware that Misha is looking at her, and saying something, but she can’t hear it above the blood rushing in her ears. Her eyes start to lose focus, and she probably would have fallen over if someone hadn’t caught her by the arm, to lead her to the bleachers, then pushes her down. A cup full of water is put in her hand.

Finally, the world comes into focus again, and the roaring in her ears dies down. The words are still very visible on her arm, stark black against her pale skin. The letters cross an old, faded scar she has half-forgotten, and it makes the “hurt” waver a bit, as if emphazing it. Fitting, she vaguely thinks.

And the implication hits her full force : Misha is her soulmate. Misha, the redhead shark shapeshifter, the boxer student-turned-professor, the gentleman, the one she glances at when she thinks no one can see her while imagining that he could be her soulmate, that man is her soulmate. She knows, she’s known for a long time that he’s the antithesis of everything her grandfather wants in a grandson-in-law, and that person is her soulmate.

She suddenly notices that Misha is sitting next to her, and watching her. Meaning that, if she can see the words, he can, too. So he knows. He knows that his soulmate isn’t a pretty lady, a dainty princess or a strong, warrior woman with a fierce personnality. It’s a tiny ballerina with severe issues. He’s going to run to the hills, any time now, without looking back, he’ll never want her, no one would never want her, she…

Before she’s completely freakouting, a hand lands on her arm, very lightly. She jumps again, but it has the benefit of stopping, or at least slowing, her panic attack. Gently, he says :

- It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

Okay ? How can it be okay ?

- But… she stutters. I’m… you’re…

- I am me, and you are you. And I’m very glad.

- You’re… very glad ?

Very glad about what ? About finally knowing ? Being in the dark can be scary, of course, but… Misha smiles, a very nice smile that isn’t scary, even when it shows the pointy teeth again.

- I’m very glad to know, and I’m very glad that it’s you.

…. what ? He’s what ?

- But… but I’m…

- You are you, Misha interrupts, and that’s very nice. In fact, that’s what I like best about you.

He what now ? Yuki tries to make sense of everything. She tries really hard, because never in a hundred years would she believe that something like that could happen to her. Surely, she’s dreaming. Or she fell and hit her head. But no, it’s true, it’s real. Because Misha is moving, and he’s embracing her gently, very gently, giving her all the time she needs to break the hug and run away. She knows that she could, if she wanted too, and he wouldn’t hold her captive. But she doesn’t want. Slowly, she hugs him back, and his arms tighten a bit around her. Misha’s hug is firm, and warm, and very much real, and it feels good. Really good. It feels reassuring, and comforting, like everything will be alright.

They stay like that a long time, until the way they’re sitting start to be too uncomfortable. When they let go, Misha has a Cheshire-cat grin, and Yuki can’t help but smile back. But there’s still a pinch of worry that doesn’t let her be.

- You know, she says. It’s… not going to be easy. My family is a bunch of…

A glint of something appears in Misha’s eyes, something scary that suddently makes her want to run away very fast. But he quickly smiles to reassure her, and pats her head.

- Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.

- You will ? But they are… important, and dangerous, and…

- And I still don’t fear them. You’re my soulmate, and I’m going to defend you.

He cuts her blubbering thanks with another hug. And somewhere, between the warmth he radiates, and the hand stroking her hair, Yuki lets herself think that, maybe, for once, things will turn okay.

[jdmsrovia]

THINGS THAT DON'T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE

▪how did john escape the well by climbing a rope when his legs were chained (presumably) to the ground? ▪are you telling me that this plan, formulated by the two greatest minds in history (greater than newton according to mycroft), this elaborage plan to kill john watson in the same way euros killed sherlock’s old best friend, are you telling me the grand solution was call greg lestrade and have him throw down a rope? seriously? ▪where tf was Mycroft when John was in the well and sherlock was at the house?? was he just chillin somewhere, was he okay? ▪if sherlock was telling the truth about loving molly, why don’t we have closure on seeing them in a relationship? if he was lying, why was she not angry? yes the circumstances were awful but there’d be a lot of emotion there, why didnt we get to see any of it? in the final montage she seemed happy as larry ▪in tld euros escaped sherrinford to take on the identity of Faith to feed sherlock the information about the case he couldnt figure out himself. so, this woman (who’s entire plot revolves around being alone and constantly feeling isolated) escapes the highest security mental prison to help her brother on a case, then she just goes back? why didnt she reach out to any of her family while out if thats what she wanted all along? ▪why did euros pretend to be a therapist for weeks on end, take up this new identity just to shoot john with a tranquilliser? just to tell him sherlock had a sister? seems like a lot of effort to leave sherrinford just to do that and then return afterwards ▪why did the huge cliffhanger of john getting shot just turn out to be a tranquilliser mentioned extremely breifly and casually? mark and steven are smarter and more interesting than that, surely? ▪there’s no way euros and moriarty could have planned this entire thing in five minutes, sherlock himself said so. euros later states moriarty loved the idea of dying, so they obviously talked about other things and not just the plan. so again, how did they have time? ▪we never found out what they did actually talk about in those five minutes ▪moriarty and euros planned this all right? before he died, obviously. now in the reichenbach fall, moriarty’s plan was to have sherlock kill himself to complete his story of him being a fraud. while on that roof, moriarty would know he had big plans for sherlock (as he’d already organised it all with euros) meaning he knew sherlock was going to live. he had planned the final problem so knew sherlock wasnt actually going to jump and die, so why did moriarty shoot himself? he had no need. we know he loves death but he knew the reichenbach plan was going to fail so why bother killing himself when he could wait a few years to see the final problem come into play (becuase god knows he would have enjoyed it) ▪euros killed victor when they were young and no one knew. this meant victor was a missing child. with missing children there are police reports, news coverage, search parties, sniffer dogs investigations interrogations the WORKS. so how the hell did no one find the well? it could only have been a few hours away max. how did no one ever find it? how did no one find his bones? ▪building on the last point, sherlock was victor’s best friend. when victor went missing sherlock would have been interrogated, asked questions, and for a 4/5 year old it would have been very scary, and it would definitely have been memorable. even growing up victor would be famous and there’s no way sherlock could have forgotten him or not seen anything to do with him in the media ▪also relating to victor - how the fuck did a tiny little girl drag him all the way to this impossible-to-find well? and if he was conscious how did she convince him or manage to get away with it without her parents noticing her missing for hours..? and unless ur telling me she threw him down the well and he sustained 0 injuries how did a child manage to get him to the bottom unharmed ▪sherlock has been convinced his whole life redbeard was his family dog. are you telling me his parents went along with that lie this whole time, and told him nothing of his dead best friend? ▪john was drowning. the water was up to his neck. yet somehow, sherlock had time to call the police and wait for them to get there..??? ▪IF THE POLICE FOUND THE WELL SO EASILY LOOKING FOR JOHN HOW DID THEY NOT FIND IT LOOKING FOR VICTOR YEARS AGO ▪why was molly crying before her phone even started ringing. also why did she ignore it? yeah she loves sherlock so it’s hard to talk to him but she seemed to cope fine at the end of tst ▪who was sherlock texting during the end montage saying “you know where to find me”? ▪why would mary leave two seperate discs? and why did she write sherlocks’ arch nemesis’ catchphrase on one of them? ▪euros said she liked making sherlock laugh all night, but then says he was actually screaming. why was he screaming? what did she do to him? (genuinely asking, i feel like there is an actual answer here but I’ve forgotten lmao) ▪if euros’ mind, in the plane, why was she only seen as being with her mum? no brothers? no dad? ▪mycroft would never tell moriarty that him and sherlock had a sister. im sorry its just, no. he wouldnt do that. he didnt even tell sherlock. ▪the task with the three men was very easy. not for normal people, but for sherlock and mycroft it was. his explanations were very simple and figuring out the murderer took no time at all. it obviously wasn’t difficult, so why was euros the only one in the world who had previously solved it? mycroft said he only ever came to her for help when he had no where else to go (as she was the smartest), and seeing as though he figured it out too, he musnt have been the one to present her with the case in the first place. so who did? maybe it was moriarty, but if it was then that takes more time away from that 5 minutes, making it harder to understand how they planned it all ▪how did they survive the grenade in the flat?! HOW DID THEY ESCAPE WITH NO BRUISES OR ANYTHING?? AFTER JUMPING FROM THE SECOND FLOOR OF A BUILDING?? HOW TF DID MYCROFT MAKE IT DOWN THE STAIRS AND TO MRS HUDSON IN 3 SECONDS?? NONE OF THIS SCENE MADE SENSE ▪when meeting euros for the first time sherlock would have noticed there being no reflection in the glass ▪why were the gravestones ever incorrect in the first place? who put them there? ▪how did my mans go from weeks to live to clean in like three days ▪where was the “groundbreaking” part of that episode?? I don’t see it. it really wasn’t that spectacular

feel free to to add anything. its been almost a week and im still mad as hell

JUST SAYING: THIS IS AN AWARD WINNING SHOW. THERE SHOULD NOT BE THIS MANY PLOT HOLES !!