#because it would be incredibly funny for them to try to scandal trap him

[viric-dreams]

Tamara could have easily gone the way of the Bohemians, with her interest in painting and later photography (she's not particularly artistically talented, but learned to make sure to immortalise as much of Varchas in paint and canvas as she can before the memories become too blurred and distorted), but she'd accidentally found a new calling.

At present she's involved in a scheme with one Margaret Hawes, Society Lady, ensnaring rich society types in scandal. One well-timed photograph and a tip to the press, and the scandal is enough to get any respectable society type sent to the Tomb Colonies!

Said marks would often try to bribe their way out of these compromising photos reaching the newspapers, however whatever they can offer does not compare to the cut that she (and now Tamara) get from the Venderbight business owners, whose entire economy has been absolutely booming due to the influx of rich exiled Londoners.

[drawbauchery]

The Inherent Eroticism of Clowning

fic by cartoons-tothemoon

At some point, Rico realized that Kowalski wasn’t a smiler.

He wouldn’t call the guy happy or well-adjusted, but, then again, could he even call himself that? And he smiled all the time!

But Kowalski…

It wasn’t like he was an especially angsty guy, he was just…moody. Emotional. Maybe even more so than Private. Private had two modes that he volleyed through, and otherwise remained at a middle point of the emotional equilibrium where he was just…fine. Skipper’s emotional state also seemed to be apathetic unless under great stress. But Kowalski? Kowalski bounced back and forth between that spectrum, it might as well been like watching a tennis game.

It fascinated him on some level that their resident nerd seemed to share many of the same instabilities as he did, and on some level, he was able to find a kinship in that.

Of course, Kowalski was never receptive of such a friendship, and why would he be? It would mean, on some level, admitting to being some sort of freak. An overly-emotional basket case with some unexamined problems here and there.

Sure, it was fine to BE like that, but admitting to it meant some form of culpability. The only reason Rico usually didn’t have to deal with consequences like that was because Skipper didn’t usually bother over-examining the issues that laid before him or the little discipline he gave him was harsh and swift enough to be a simple slap of the cuffs for five minutes before Rico could go on with his life.

Kowalski wasn’t the type to receive a slap on the wrist. He was, for lack of a better word, good. Not morally good, but, good by the standards of the team. He could be building his third edition of a death ray, but as long as he stayed out of Skipper’s way in the morning he might as well be a saint.

Come to think of it, Kowalski stayed out of everybody’s way, pretty much. Sure, they ate meals together and watched movies, but unless Skipper called them together or he had something to show off, he mostly kept to himself. He was usually in his lab or in Private’s greenhouse…

These were the facts as Rico knew them. Kowalski was a paradoxically over-emotional logical man of science, who gave off the vibes of being a gifted student in grade school, and kept to himself.

And he wasn’t a smiler. Over-emotional, yes, overly positive emotions? Not quite.

Rico figured it was his job to change that.

———

Over breakfast that morning, Private and Skipper went through their strange morning charade of being simultaneously open and loving and incredibly repressed, which, made for good entertainment on slow days.

However, this was not going to be one of those slow days. He had the lofty goal of trying to make Kowalski not only smile, but laugh. Laughter was easier to gain without just simply asking than smiling. It was sudden and explosive, while smiling was quiet and demure. Not his style, but he was looking for something of the same effect.

And besides, to get a genuine smile out of him in the first place, what was he really going to do? Complimenting him would feel weird, and anything else felt like uncharted waters for a reason. He might be known as the impulsive and weird one, willing to dive into anything, but, that came to violence and action. Those things made sense to him. Social things, even benign ones like these with people who he has known for years, had their own rolling tides associate with them. He didn’t know if these seas would treat him unfavorably, but he would never truly know until he took the plunge.

As plates were set down on the table of some weird sort of Russian pancake that Private had found on the internet and had wanted to test out in the kitchen, a thing that seemed to make him rather proud, enthusiastic to try something new, Rico dropped a line in Kowalski’s direction he had found on the internet.

A spoon was dropped.

Private looked scandalized, his palms practically super-glueing themselves to his face in shock. Skipper looked a little horrified, eyes briefly flittering to Private to read his reaction. Yeah, he saw that. Kowalski seemed to share in this same look of horror, jaw agape, blinking once or twice to get a read on the situation before letting out something of a confused scoff?   - He was guessing that was what it was - before he wrapped a hand around his mouth too and turned to the side to cough.

He couldn’t guess what his own face looked like, but he guessed it was a little vacant, at the least. didn’t see anything wrong with what he said, but he probably should’ve guessed he’d be wrong about that given his track record.

And that was how Rico once again found himself forever trapped in the ‘too horny on main’ corner that seemed to exist only because of him, with cold blintzes and an empty kitchen to return to.

He was forced to acknowledge it. In the event of being given the choice to sink or swim, he sunk. And everyone knew he did.

———

Upon reflection, Rico was starting to think that Kowalski might have been a happier person than he thought he was. He knows that whenever Private tells him a lame pun or joke, he gives a small laugh or two to keep him from getting discouraged. Not to mention, whenever Skipper praises an invention, be it an actual “good work, Kowalski!” or a back-handed “I like that it hasn’t killed us yet” seems to make him rather excited, though that could just be the pure enthusiasm he has when it comes to his work carrying him through a demonstration.

Come to think of it, Kowalski doesn’t smile a lot around him. He might if they’re in a group, when they’re all celebrating something with this big mob mentality thing going for them, but, otherwise. Nah.

Maybe this is because they don’t hang out a lot? He WAS banned from the lab. There was a sign and everything.

Maybe he just didn’t like him all that much? It’s not like he ever SAID anything really, but who could be for certain?

These were the things he had to think about while he braided Julien’s hair. Well, tried to, anyhow. He didn’t exactly understand how it worked, and no matter how many times Julien explained it to him, even that day, he didn’t think he was ever going to get it. However, on some level, it was their “thing” to do together, on days where they didn’t feel like doing anything but lounging around, but still wanted to do something more than watch TV. So, that seemed to be their afternoon, trying to figure out a French braid while he contemplated the emotional state of another man. It would sound almost scandalous if Julien didn’t know.

“You are like, the funniest guy on the planet,” Julien stated. “The idea that he can’t even shine a smile at you is a thing that is preposterous.”

Rico hummed at that, giving him a small head scratch that had Julien reaching for his hand to keep at the motion, but his mind was still somewhat elsewhere.

Julien probably only thought such a thing because he already liked Rico, and this love  of his had made him dumb. Just yesterday he read online that he should microwave a metal spoon before having ice cream, so it’s easier to scoop out of the tin, and Kowalski had to save what he referred to as his “souped-up electromagnetic baby” from such an act as soon as the sparking had drawn his attention.

Yes, truly it was love that had made him dumb. Nothing else, be it circumstances nor his general careless nature, could be the cause of such a thing.

At least the microwave thing had made Julien laugh. Watching Kowalski scramble from his seat at the kitchen table to wrestle a uranium-powered microwave off the counter, forgetting in his panic that he could’ve simply unplugged the thing. Such an act toppled him over, almost crushing him underneath the device. Julien found the erratic movement funny enough to laugh, even if it turned Kowalski three shades of a flustered red in the face afterwards.

Rico was also there. He knew what was going to happen when Julien had suggested it, and wanted to watch the sparks fly with him. He should’ve expected Kowalski to prevent them from absolutely destroying his creation, but he didn’t expect that.

Perhaps Kowalski was full of surprises like that. Multi-faceted. A puzzle.

That almost frustrated Rico more. He HATED puzzles. He liked things direct. To the point. Muddling through ambiguity was just such a weird and fussy thing to him. There was a reason he was the only one in the group with a functional romantic relationship that was able to stand more than three months of time, but it wasn’t that easy.

For one, Julien had asked first.

For second…what was he even supposed to say? “Have you secretly hated me this entire time or are my jokes just simply that terrible that you can’t even smile in my presence out of principle?” That was too direct. That got to the heart of this weird insecurity that had only popped up in the last week, and Kowalski seemed like the type to be frightened by that kind of thing.

And besides, the last thing Rico wanted was to look insecure. The second last thing Rico wanted, though, was to BE insecure, so those two conflicting thoughts sort of kept him from taking action. Or, at the very least, taking action at this point in time.

He was considered sort of an absolutist in his own right. An all-or-nothing sort of guy. However, that didn’t mean he was incapable of walking the thin line of gray that lined the black and white.

He just wasn’t capable of doing that right now.

After all, he was trying to learn how to braid a French braid.

———

Rico decided to lay relatively low for the rest of the day. Nothing during lunch, no weird comments during dinner. Nothing.

Sure, he still talked, but, it was a casual sort of thing. All very shallow stuff like “hey, how was your day?” Or “hey, dinner was pretty good tonight.” You know, normal things that sounded so utterly strange out of him. He might as well have been flying a kite at night, that’s how unsavory he guessed it came off given the ire that Skipper gave him during dinner, though Private seemed to welcome it.

It was a movie night tonight, though, and it was Rico’s turn to pick, so he figured he’d take advantage of the situation he was in. Especially since Private and Skipper were busy making up the popcorn (why there needed to be two of them when they weren’t even using it as an excuse to make out, he’d never know) and Julien and Maurice were chilling in the other corner of the room, reading or looking at their phones or something of the sort.

He had to seize the opportunity that he had so carelessly squandered earlier.

Rico flickered through a bunch of action movies, a few catching his eye for later viewings, but none of them really appealing to him at the moment.

He turned to Kowalski and shrugged.

“Y-You got any n-nature docu-documentaries you’re lo-looking to watch?”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“O-Only if they’re, if they’re cool.”

Kowalski seemed a little surprised at this. He shrugged. “There’s one about anacondas I’ve been looking to watch.”

“A-Are you s-sure that isn’t m-meant f-for pri-private viewing?”

Kowalski had to take a second to think about it before returning slightly scandalized, though more mad than anything else really. “It’s the REPTILE. That’s a dated joke even by your standards.”

Rico laughed a little to himself before sobering up. “I g-guess I ha-have been acting, acting weird t-today.”

Kowalski regarded this at first dryly, but then with a touch more compassion than Rico thought he was capable of showing towards him. “Oh, uh,” he began elegantly.

Rico sighed. “There’s-there’s a lot of el-elements t-to how I’m f-feeling, ya know?”

It looked as if Kowalski was about to put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, but he seemed to hesitate for a reason Rico didn’t understand that well, but also didn’t want explained.

“Yeah. L-lots of el-elements. H-hydrogen, Ox-oxygen, RadoN, Yttri-yttrium…The lot.” He sighed once more, trying to keep the smirk from sliding onto his face.

The hesitant hand that was at first drawn to Rico’s shoulder found a place under his chin as Kowalski slowly thought about what he said and how he compiled it together. When Kowalski realized, his eyes widened and Rico received a punch in the arm as Kowalski laughed, genuinely LAUGHED at such a stupid, corny science joke! He could’ve sworn Kowalski would’ve called him a son of a bitch as he did if he was that type of a guy. Seeing him laugh made Rico laugh too, with a sense of camaraderie that came with it, which kept Kowalski laughing as well in a sort of self-perpetuating cycle.

Rico let out a heavy breath as he had finally gotten it out of his system, and out of the corner of his eye, saw something he had never really picked up on before.

When Kowalski laughed, perhaps for too long, or maybe a little too much, or he just didn’t want anyone to pick up on it, he went to cover his mouth with his hand. It helped to mask the emotion somewhat, and it wasn’t the first time Rico picked up on the motion as a way to maintain a pokerface, but he saw it in a somewhat new light, so to speak.

He just had to be casual about it.

“Y-you do that every time?”

“What? Oh.” Kowalski said, hiding a smile behind his fist, though to call it hiding was generous in its own right, if not inaccurate. It was more of a self-soothing gesture. A comforting gesture, more than anything else. “Well, we can’t let you get too egotistical, huh.”

Then it took Rico a moment to think, and Kowalski used the time to grab the remote and select the documentary. When Kowalski pressed play, that’s when he realized it, “you mean this morning you-!?”

“Shh! It’s starting.”

———

“They didn’t even wait for the popcorn.” Private pouted, his arms wrapped around the largest bowl they could find in the kitchen.

“Did you hear how they were dancing around each other? Get a clue, am I right?” Skipper muttered as he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

Despite their misgivings and their grumblings, they too soon could be found in front of the television for a movie night, even for a movie like this.

(I didn’t want to genuinely write out some sort of ass-clapping joke, but that’s probably the kind of joke Rico told. I know it in my heart, but with the ambiguity there you can kill the author who killed the previous author, so to speak and say what kind of joke he made. I capitalized the parts of the elements that spell out the secret message. You learn something new every day, but nobody ever said you learned something useful every day. You just happened to today. )

[anexplanationofunfortunateevents]

BUT HIS [SON’S] [IRRELEVANT AND PROBABLY FAKE] EMAILS!

In a world where people were trying to do their jobs, this story would not make sense to anyone, now or ever. But because we live in the dumbest fucking timeline, you need to know the shape of the Trump cartel’s latest disinformation campaign against the American democratic process.

Former Vice President Biden is being attacked through his family, which means that his family’s story is the vital context here. Back in the ‘70s, when he was Senator-Elect Biden, his family was in a terrible car crash. His first wife and their young daughter were killed. His sons Beau and Hunter survived, though Hunter suffered a traumatic head injury. The boys went about 80% Parent Trap to convince their dad to marry his current wife Jill, and both grew up and went to law school. Beau became the attorney general of Delaware before dying of cancer in 2015. Hunter went on to a lucrative career in the private sector despite an intermittent struggle with substance abuse, which is a common aftereffect of psychological trauma and brain injuries.

Republicans generally believe that being a Yale Law grad with a wealthy father and a history of substance abuse qualifies someone for the Supreme Court, but for some deeply principled and intellectually honest reason, they have decided that Hunter Biden’s employment in the field of transportation and energy can only be a sign of spectacular corruption. So nefarious and sinister was the Biden family’s treachery that they managed to destroy every iota of evidence before multiple investigations by Senate Republicans could find any of it!

Obviously this little tabloid narrative was derailed when Trump went and got his dumb ass impeached over it. But it’s the middle of October, Trump’s down ten points in the polls, and he made the mistake of replacing the wildly unethical FBI director who threw the last election for him with a guy who at least knows to act professional, so he’s looking for a Hail Mary pass. In the wackiest of coincidences, some random Trumper had what he says might be Hunter Biden’s various hard drives, one of which apparently contained a backup of his most sensitive videos and text messages, in his computer repair shop. Of course this man did the only sensible thing and, uh, copied every file in the drives one at a time before bringing it to Trump’s TV lawyer, Rudy Giuliani, and then the FBI. Giuliani, who was a former federal prosecutor before becoming the former mayor of New York City and current new bestie of Random Tech Store Guy, handled this situation with the assistance of someone who has a mere “50/50 chance” of being a Russian agent. (Poor old Rudy does appear to have limited communication skills beyond his personal safe space of a noun, a verb, and 9/11.) It’s unclear to me whether Giuliani or Tech Store Guy was the one who shared the hard drives with Steve Bannon, the white supremacist propagandist and former Trump campaign manager who is currently under indictment for fraud.

As with a lot of Trump trash, it’s impossible to describe without sounding like you’re exaggerating for comedic effect, but the stakes are too high for any of it to be funny. 

Over the weekend, a right wing tabloid published what it said were emails from one of Hunter’s laptops. (Reporters at that particular tabloid do not believe the story.) The emails don’t show any wrongdoing by the vice president and seem fake for a lot of reasons – but never mind, the bullshit laundering worked well enough to get some supposed actual reporter to harass Vice President Biden about it, and then a bunch of other supposed actual reporters to collapse into their fainting couches when Biden responded with appropriate impatience.

That apparently didn’t have the hoped-for effect. The next day, what appeared to be a series of highly emotional text exchanges between the vice president and his son appeared. There was nothing even vaguely scandalous in these, to a point where it’s not immediately obvious why anyone would bother publishing them. My best guess is that it’s meant to throw Biden off his stride by trying to hurt and humiliate his son, though it may also be an attempt to soften the ground for an even more theatrical reveal.

A lot of Very Serious Politics-Knowers have deluded themselves that the But Her Emails debacle of 2016 was the legitimate kernel of a story that was “blown out of proportion.” But Her Emails was about people a) having some degree of misogyny, conscious or unconscious, which led to a bias against Clinton and b) wanting to tell other people and/or themselves that it wasn’t because she was a woman. They understand that the But Her Emails-ing was a) enormously consequential and b) incredibly dumb. They don’t want to think too hard about that tension, because if they did, they’d have to take responsibility for how the dumb thing became so consequential.

Meanwhile, Trump campaign insiders know better than the rest of us how much they cheated in 2016, but they’re still people and therefore susceptible to the cognitive bias that they got what they wanted because they earned it somehow. The closest thing they had to an above-board strategy was yelling “emails!!” a lot, so they expect yelling “emails!!” to be successful again. They’re just desperately throwing pasta to see what sticks – but Joe Biden is a man, so they’re throwing it at the theory of relativity instead of the refrigerator door.

There are differences between 2020 and 2016 which are significantly less depressing. Trump’s co-conspirators are resorting to ridiculous methods because so many of the key players who made the 2016 operation work are actually facing punishment for some of their crimes. Paul Manafort is under house arrest. Wikileaks guy Julian Assange is in jail.  Social media companies, especially Twitter, were prepared to slam the brakes. Some mainstream reporters have refused to learn their lesson from 2016, but others were prepared to be critical. And, I cannot emphasize this last one enough, voters are more prepared for it. So Team Trump isn’t as good at doing the crimes as they were four years ago, even if they were as good at it they wouldn’t be able to use traditional and social media as effectively as they did last time, and even if they could adjust to that they’d have a harder time manipulating us. Maybe it got frustrating and boring for you to hear and talk about the 2016 attack for years on end, but the whole point of that was that we needed to be ready for exactly this scenario. So far, it seems to be working better than I would have hoped.

Obviously, this is infuriating. All else aside, putting this enormous, invasive pressure on a private citizen’s mental health and substance abuse problems is abusive and gross and genuinely dangerous. I don’t give a shit who his dad is, it’s fucking evil. We need to be ready to remember everybody involved in pushing this story – not just the con artists behind it, but the “mainstream” reporters who validated it in their behavior toward the Biden campaign or who spread what were (allegedly) entirely personal text messages of no news value.

But first, we need to win next month. On that front, I want to reiterate what I said when they first started cooking up this story late last year: it’s actually encouraging that they’re resorting to something like this, because it means they’re flailing. They haven’t been able to make FBI Director Wray abuse his power in the way former Director Comey did, despite the fact that the only real tool they had to manipulate Comey four years ago was taunting and pressure from conservative media. They don’t have a cutout like Wikileaks to launder the documents for them. Most importantly, they’re trying to influence voters’ opinions of Biden because they think voters’ behavior still matters. The only thing Trump knows in life is how to get away with a scam. If they thought they had it “rigged” they would be trying to act normal, because spending the three weeks before a heist reminding your marks of what fucking criminals you are doesn’t help you get away with it.

One last thing: this is a less obvious reason why it’s important to vote as early as you can. All these other increasingly desperate stunts depend on the ability to overwhelm everyone all at once, without enough time for them to be debunked or brought back into proportion. The more early votes are in the bank, the less effective their next stink bomb can be, and if it can’t be effective, there are a lot of people around Trump who would rather save their own asses from prison than help him throw it.

[foxykey]

Implications (pt. 07)

Best friends forever... right?

Rated: M (eventual smut)

The only reason Heeji opened the door was because she knew that Yoongi was risking a scandal and every second he lingered on her doorway, the bigger the risk of someone recognizing him became. She wanted to lock herself away. She was a mess. She didn’t know if she was angry or embarrassed or relieved or frustrated. The only thing she did know was that she was overwhelmed.

Heeji tried to steady her hand as she twisted the knob, but it was no use and the second her eyes landed on Yoongi standing in her doorway she felt herself crumble again. It wasn’t anything more than a cursory glance, though, because her tears started once more, so she quickly turned, curling her arms over her chest as she walked back into her tiny apartment to buy herself time.

Yoongi hurried in the moment the door was open, shutting it carefully behind himself and ridding himself of his mask and cap. He obviously didn’t plan this outing, spontaneously reacting to their conversation somewhere in the middle of it all to race over. The thought made her angry all over again and deeply moved her at the same time. Heeji tried to keep herself composed as Yoongi awkwardly shifted from foot to foot in front of her.

“Hi,” he said, all the tension and weirdness of the moment trapped in that one tiny word.

“Hi,” she responded, sniffling and clenching her arms round herself tighter.

Yoongi looked her over, the awkwardness crumbling into worry when he noticed her wet lashes. He stepped towards her and reached out a hand to cup her cheek and wipe a stray teardrop.

“Why’re you crying?” Yoongi asked in low voice, his tone laced with genuine concern.

Heeji resisted the urge to lean into his palm and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He shuffled closer, closing the distance so that he was dizzingly close. “I’m really sorry. Please don’t cry because of my dumb ass.”

“I’m not-” Heeji cut herself off and hung her head as another few drops slipped onto her cheeks. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“How could you think…?”

“I know.”

“Fuck, and now you know what I have on my phone…”

“Heeji, I’m sorry.”

She had to at least try and sound rational. Everything had just burst out into the open, there was no going back now, and this might’ve been her only shot at the impossible.

“I don’t know how this happened to me,” she began slowly. “And I’m not some kind of psycho stalker freak, I swear. You’re gone a lot… and lots of people have pictures of their best friend. Maybe not those kinds of pictures, but the point still stands.” Her attempt at rationality was failing miserably. She bit her lip before speaking again, getting indignant. “A while back you said something about my life not revolving around you and I almost laughed in your fucking face. How did you not know that I-”

Her words were muffled when Yoongi dipped his head suddenly to catch her lips in a kiss. Heeji’s eyes slammed shut in shock, her body freezing in place.

His mouth was warm on hers and the kiss was insistent, but not hurried. For a few long seconds, Yoongi merely held his lips to her own until she could process exactly what was happening. Then, taking one last step so that their bodies were flush, he carefully parted his mouth and his tongue flicked along the seam of her lips for a quick moment. Heeji gasped, small and quiet, at the feeling. Yoongi took this opportunity to dip his tongue behind her teeth until their tips met with a burst of electricity. She whined at the loss of his tongue and her body finally seemed to regain movement. Heeji’s hands slid up to grab at fistfuls of his jacket. He took in a deep breath before he licked into her mouth again, anchoring her to him for a long minute as their tongues stroked along one another.

There was a quiet pop as they pulled apart and Yoongi leaned his forehead against hers, eyes still closed and his grip on her waist still borderline feral.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that,” he murmured through a sigh.

She had just kissed her best friend, just been kissed by her best friend. Heeji was shaking, her hold on Yoongi white-knuckled. She was overwhelmed again, but by an indomitable, buzzing sense of joy and disbelief. This couldn’t be real, it couldn’t. Her own brain had betrayed her countless times, dreaming up various different scenarios of this exact situation only for her to awaken every time. But Yoongi remained firmly beneath her fingertips and his taste lingered in her mouth. Heeji buried her face in his chest, feeling the stupid urge to cry again. He merely curled his arms around her tightly, holding her in an embrace.

“Everything came out wrong,” Yoongi said suddenly.

Heeji lifted her head to gaze at him, confused. “Huh?”

“Before. The texts. Everything just sort of spilled out. Can we sit?”

She nodded and they moved to her sofa. He sat first, pulling her down to sit very close, thighs and shoulders brushing. He looked at his hands a long moment.

“First of all, the whole audition thing,” Yoongi began. “It honestly wasn’t me pulling strings or getting you the job or anything like that. I just asked that they made sure to get to your audition. You know how those things are, sometimes they’ll just cut the day off and you have to turn around and go home. I made sure that didn’t happen, that’s all. You nailed the audition yourself. I talked to the casting director after you were offered a position in the company and he told me that you were incredible, really memorable, and definitely one of the bests of the day. So that was it. I wasn’t trying to be any kind of safety net or trying to undermine you or anything.”

Heeji nodded, her gaze focused on where their knees touched, the sensation both comforting and obvious. “I know you had good intentions. And thank you, for helping me out. I just don’t want people to think I’m riding your coattails or anything.” Yoongi nodded this time and Heeji took in a deep breath. “What was with the Jimin thing?”

A sudden laugh escaped Yoongi and that’s all it took to have them both giggling hysterically. Neither of them could say anything for a while as laughter spilled between them. Once he had caught his breath, Yoongi leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling and running his fingers through his hair as he spoke.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he sighed. “I know it was stupid, but it was honestly driving me insane. It was like just building and building on itself, all these tiny little things.”

“Where did it even come from?” Heeji asked, looking back at him.

He shrugged and didn’t answer for a long minute. Then, “It really bothered me when you sent me that dumbass fucking meme.”

Heeji laughed again, raising a brow at him. “What? What meme? When?”

“Remember weeks back? You sent me some stupid memes of myself. You sent a few of them, I remember I had a face mask on in one of them, and then you accidentally sent me that stupid fucking ‘I feel attacked’ pic of Jimin. And you were like ‘whoops.’ I got so annoyed.”

“Are you serious? You idiot, I sent that by accident, I meant to send you another one of you and I clicked the one next to it by mistake.”

“You don’t think I know it’s stupid? It’s just that in that moment I realized that you didn’t just have stupid pictures of me in your phone. And I hadn’t even really ever consciously thought of whether you did or didn’t, but once it clicked that you probably had shit for all of us saved, I… I kinda got upset.”

“You big baby,” Heeji mocked, shaking her head.

“Yeah, well, then it was just… always Jimin,” Yoongi deflected, making a face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that every time it was something, Jimin was involved. You came to meet me at the studio and I walked in and you’re talking to Jimin, you were suddenly practicing with Jimin, you were posting about him on your story and he was posting about you on his story and you were texting all the time. You nailed your auditions and he literally Disney prince hugged you.”

“What the everloving fuck does ‘Disney prince hugged’ mean?”

Yoongi motioned dismissively with a hand in a circle. “He picked you up and twirled you.”

“Jesus christ, Yoongs, you’re so salty. Hobi hugged me, too.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t talking about thirst pictures of Hoseok on your phone.”

“Which I definitely don’t have… ha ha.”

He gave her a dark look and she laughed, her stomach flipping happily at his casual jealousy.

“Well, when you texted me about my talking about your audition and everything started spiraling and then it boiled back down to-”

“Jimin,” Heeji finished for him, understanding suddenly how it could have looked from Yoongi’s end.

He nodded. “Exactly. I just sort of erupted. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

“Yeah. Guess it worked out okay, though.”

“Not really.” Heeji’s heart dropped at the words, her eyes flicking to his in dread. Yoongi sat up again, all of a sudden closer than ever, his gaze soft and vulnerable as he took in her face. “I didn’t want to tell you like that, through text in the middle of a half-fight and drowning in petty jealousy. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you for so long and for all of it to just slip out like that… I wanted… I wanted to tell you face-to-face. I wanted to tell you about how I never stop thinking about you and about how… how you’re the most important person to me. About how funny and smart and beautiful I think you are and how you always make my day better, even when I’m really stressed. Especially when I’m really stressed.” Yoongi lifted his hand to her face, his fingers curling into her hair and his thumb brushing her cheek. “I should’ve said it before, a long time ago, but I was just afraid because of how crazy my life is and how hard this all would be for us. Fuck, I know it would be hard as hell, it’s hard enough right now, but I think we’re so good together. I…” he swallowed, his gaze dropping to her mouth a second, “I really want to kiss you.”

Heeji didn’t hesitate this time, pressing closer to seal their lips together. This time, she let herself slip under how absolutely amazing it felt to have him against her, to feel his lips part under her own and for his tongue - that sinful, incredible tongue - to lick into her mouth eagerly.

She grabbed at whatever parts of him that she could as the kiss deepened, pent up frustration orchestrating their movements at this point. Yoongi shifted to face her better, tilting his head to be able to kiss her deeper, harder, his fingers digging into her ribs.

“Fuck, I should have said something a long time ago,” he grunted between kisses. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re-” a beat as Yoongi scraped his teeth over her bottom lip, “a fucking mo-” Heeji let her tongue stroke across his for a few long moments, “moron.”

Eventually, the frenzied kisses evolved into slow, lazy ones as they sunk back into her couch together. Long stretches of kissing were intermingled with longer stretches of conversation and intimate laughter. Yoongi would push her hair gently behind her ear as she blushed at the sweetness of the gesture. Heeji would tease him and he would groan and bury his face in the crook of her neck, taking the opportunity to plant soft kisses to the sensitive skin of her throat.

“Won’t they miss you? Back at the dorm?” Heeji asked after a very long while. “Did you even tell them you were leaving?”

“No,” Yoongi sighed, leaning into her fingers as they traced lightly over his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “I just kind of ran out.”

“They’re probably freaking out.”

He hummed an acknowledgement and Heeji whined as he dislodged them to pull his phone from his pocket. “Shit, I have a bunch of missed calls and Namjoon texted me. Fuck.”

“You should go.”

“I don’t want to go,” Yoongi pouted and the action was so endearing that Heeji almost melted.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him as he burrowed into her, dragging her fingers soothingly through his hair. She dropped a kiss to the crown of his head and she felt him smile against her.

“You should still go.”

He grunted his dissent and stayed put. Heeji laughed and tugged at him to try and pry him off, but he grunted louder and tightened his grip.

“They’re going to kill you,” Heeji said.

“I don’t care.” Yoongi’s voice was muffled against her.

She was about to say something else, but at that moment his phone began to vibrate and he slumped, defeated. Yoongi sunk into the back of the couch and answered.

“Hello?… I know, I’m sorry. I just had to take care of something urgently… I’m fine and I’m coming back home soon… yeah. Okay.” Yoongi sagged as he hung up, grimacing. “Fuck, I don’t want to gooo.”

“Come on, it’s better if you head back now anyway, before they get really mad at you. We can hang out tomorrow.” Heeji gave his nose a quick kiss and stood, prompting him up.

Yoongi sat up, fixing his hair and looking more excited now. “I’m free all day tomorrow, too, so I can come in the morning and we can just spend the whole day together.”

She nodded with a wide smile and offered him her hand. He took it and stood, letting her lead them to the door without dropping her hand from his. Yoongi paused and turned back to her before he headed out, licking his lips in what she had learned was a nervous habit.

“Hey, I really…” he began, taking in a deep breath, “I really mean all of this. I’m in this for real. We’re really doing this… right?”

Heeji nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. A hundred percent.”

“Okay. Good. Because I really love you. I know I never actually said it, but I really do.”

Heeji felt light, her head swimming, heart pounding in her ears, body tingling at the confession and she swore she had never been so happy in her entire life. “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi asked, a euphoric smile widening on his face.

She nodded, blushing. “A lot.”

He leaned down to kiss her again, soft and sweet, taking his time. When he broke apart, he stared at her for a long moment, then pressed one more short kiss to her mouth.

“Yoongi?” Heeji began, halting him as he turned to open the door. He looked back at her, waiting. She swallowed. “How long have you… since when?”

He ruffled his hair with his hand and blew out a puff of air. “Jeez, I don’t even know. I mean, when we first met in middle school I had a huge crush on you and that continued through most of high school. I’ve kind of always had a thing for you. But when did I fall in love with you? Shit, I don’t even think I can pinpoint it. Couple of years at least. I’ve always loved you, at some point it just sort of evolved.” Heeji nodded, heart fuller than she ever could have imagined. Yoongi tucked her hair behind her ear, touch lingering. “And you? How long for you?”

Heeji remembered chilled night air, the soft rustle of wrapping paper, a coffee that was too sweet. She remembered how genuine and wide his smile was. The smell of pine trees and a warm jacket tucked carefully around her frame. She smiled wistfully up at Yoongi, his dark eyes drinking her in patiently.

“Awhile,” she said simply.

He smiled down at her, not pushing her further. Yoongi gently tilted her chin up with his thumb before sealing their lips together for a long moment. Heeji soaked in the small moment that they stayed after, foreheads pressed together, a dreamy smile on her face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly, stroking her head gently.

Heeji nodded. “Kay. Go. You’ll get in trouble.”

He laughed, pressing a last kiss to her forehead before donning his cap and mask and slipping out the door.

PREV | NEXT

[smoljohnlock]

THE FINAL PROBLEM (PART 1)

“May be the hardest case of your career” 

1. THE GREAT GAME

JIM: D’you know what happens if you don’t leave me alone, Sherlock, to you? SHERLOCK: Oh, let me guess: I get killed. JIM: Kill you? N-no, don’t be obvious. I mean, I’m gonna kill you anyway some day. I don’t wanna rush it, though. I’m saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don’t stop prying, I’ll burn you. I’ll burn the heart out of you. SHERLOCK: I have been reliably informed that I don’t have one. JIM: But we both know that’s not quite true.

2. A SCANDAL IN BELGRAVIA

Making Sherlock aware of John’s feelings for him & making John jealous. So The Fall will have a bigger emotional impact on them.

IRENE: And somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth too.

IRENE: The key-code to my safe. JOHN: What was it? IRENE: Shall I tell him? My measurements.

You quote the whole episode but the Battersea scene is the key here (the conversation between John and Irene which Sherlock eavesdrops)

SHERLOCK: Oh, you’re rather good. IRENE: You’re not so bad.   JOHN: John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names.

(Sherlock’s monologue shows him opinion on love at that point but it’ll also be important later on) SHERLOCK: I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive. When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination to your safe – your measurements; but this is far more intimate. This is your heart and you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve worked for but you just couldn’t resist it, could you?  I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage... Thank you for the final proof. 

3. THE REICHENBACH FALL

SHERLOCK: So how’re you going to do it ... burn me?  JIM: Oh, that’s the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet? What’s the final problem? I did tell you... but did you listen? How hard do you find it, having to say “I don’t know”?   SHERLOCK: I don’t know.  JIM: Oh, that’s clever; that’s very clever; awfully clever. 

Okay, let’s stop here for a minute... Sherlock geniuely didn’t know what The Final Problem was, and he didn’t even get it on the roof (SH to Jim: I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn.), distracted by the ‘code’ and Jim’s fairytale stories. The suicide was exactly what Moriarty wanted, because TFP was all about the consequences of Sherlock’s ‘death’.

“What’s the final problem? I did tell you... but did you listen?”

Back to TGG:  I’ll burn the heart out of you. SHERLOCK: I have been reliably informed that I don’t have one. JIM: But we both know that’s not quite true.

The heart is John Watson. Jim’s (or Mycroft’s really, but I’m not gonna get into that here) plan was to break John. By ‘killing’ himself Sherlock saved his friends. But.. did he really?

JOHN:  You ... you told me once that you weren’t a hero. There were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this: you were the best man, and the most human ... human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so ... There. I was so alone, and I owe you so much. No, please, there’s just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t ... be ... dead. Would you do ...? Just for me, just stop it. (He gestures down at the grave.) Stop this.

4. THE EMPTY HEARSE & THE SIGN OF 3

John trapped in an unhappy relationship with Mary, pining for Sherlock

I’ll burn the heart of out you... literally.

MARY: Oh my God, oh my God. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him? SHERLOCK: Okay, John, I’m suddenly realising I probably owe you some sort of an apology. JOHN (in a whisper): Two years. I thought ... (He groans, unable to continue and gesturing helplessly. Mary stares at him in sympathy. John finally straightens and turns to Sherlock.) JOHN: I thought ... you were dead. Now, you let me grieve, hmm? How could you do that? How?

In TEH, Sherlock still hasn’t figured it out. He accuses John of overreacting and plays a trick on him to force forgiveness. Although the realization of all the pain he put John through starts to slowly sink in.

The wedding, both John and Sherlock pining for each other, Mary stands in the way. There’s no hope for Sherlock to be with John anymore, even though he wants to.

MRS HUDSON: I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early? So sad. 

(He walks through his bedroom to his wardrobe, where a morning suit is hanging from the open door. He looks at it.) SHERLOCK: Into battle.

SHERLOCK: Ah, that’s why he’s bouncing round him like a puppy. MARY: Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know.

MYCROFT: Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard? SHERLOCK: I’m not a child any more, Mycroft. MYCROFT: No, of course you’re not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock. 

Just... the whole episode, It’s all p a i n

5. HIS LAST VOW

John’s just back from the honeymoon, already missing Sherlock. Sherlock finds relief in drugs, sells John a lie it was for a case. In TRF, Moriarty talks about pressure points, so does Magnussen in HLV.

MAGNUSSEN: Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr Holmes. The drugs thing I never believed for a moment. Anyway, you wouldn’t care if it was exposed, would you? But look how you care about John Watson. Your damsel in distress. JOHN: You put me in a fire... for leverage? MAGNUSSEN: Oh, I’d never let you burn, Doctor Watson. I had people standing by. MAGNUSSEN: I’m not a murderer ... unlike your wife.

(In S4, Mary is a mirror for Sherlock. If you think S3 is EMP as well, you could say Mary is a mirror here, as well)

Mary shoots Sherlock. Forwards or backwards? Backwards. So from now on, we’re going through everything that has happened before.

6 .THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE

This episode is extremely important, because Sherlock finally realises what’s The Final Problem, then S4 is solving it. 

In TAB, Sherlock tries to figure out how Moriarty survived and what happened on the roof. (Funny thing is, we’ve got three final problems in BBC Sherlock - TRF, TAB and TFP. Proof that it’s what Sherlock is still working on)

HOLMES: Gun in the mouth; a bullet through the brain; back of the head blown clean off. How could he survive?

Deep waters, going deeper into his mind (will be important in S4)

I shall have to go deep. Into What? Myself.

These are deep waters, Watson, deep waters. And I shall have to go deeper still.

You're in deep, Sherlock, deeper than you ever intended to be.

H: Still not awake, am I? Moriarty: Too deep, Sherlock, way too deep. Congratulations, you will be the first man in history to be buried in his own Mind Palace.

MORIARTY: This is how we end, you and I. Always here, always together. HOLMES: You have a magnificent brain, Moriarty. I admire it. I concede it may be even be the equal of my own. MORIARTY: I’m touched. I’m honoured. HOLMES: But when it comes to the matter of unarmed combat on the edge of a precipice you’re going in the water short-arse. MORIARTY: Oh, you think you’re so big and strong, Sherlock! Not with me! I am your WEAKNESS! I keep you DOWN! Every time you STUMBLE, every time you FAIL, when you’re WEAK ...: I ... AM ... THERE! No. Don’t try to fight it. LIE BACK AND LOSE! Shall we go over together? It has to be together, doesn’t it? At the end, it’s always just you ... AND ME! WATSON: Professor, if you wouldn’t mind stepping away from my friend. I do believe he finds your attention a shade annoying. MORIARTY: That’s not fair. There’s two of you! WATSON: There’s always two of us. Don’t you read The Strand?

What’s different here is that John saves Sherlock, rather than Sherlock being like ‘alone protects me’. Sherlock should have trusted John in TRF. He finally gets it. And we get this beautiful moment:

HOLMES: Thank you, John. WATSON: Since when do you call me John? HOLMES: You’d be surprised. WATSON: No I wouldn’t.  Time you woke up, Sherlock. I’m a storyteller. I know when I’m in one. HOLMES: Of course. Of course you do, John. WATSON: So what’s he like? The other me, in the other place? HOLMES: Smarter than he looks. WATSON: Pretty damned smart, then. HOLMES (smiling): Pretty damned smart.

This is a huge turn, because from now in Sherlock will be aware of the consequences of TRF and what it did to John, then he’ll solve The Final Problem.

7. THE SIX THATCHERS

There are so many parallels in S4 not because the writers are ‘lazy’ but because Sherlock’s going ‘backwards’. Lemme bring a few lines from TAB: 1. MORIARTY: Is this silly enough for you yet? Gothic enough? Mad enough, even for you? It doesn’t make sense, Sherlock, because it’s not real. None of it. This is all in your mind. 2. MORIARTY: Doesn’t it remind you of another case? Hasn’t this all happened before? There’s nothing new under the sun. What was it?

Btw, I listed the deep waters quotes form TAB. Now think about water in S4.

S4 is just a cont. of TAB.

What’s important in S4 is that Mary is a Sherlock mirror.

MARY: My darling. I need to tell you this because you mustn’t hate me for going away. I gave myself permission to have an ordinary life. I’m not running. I promise you that. I just need to do this in my own way. but I don’t want you and Sherlock hanging off my gun arm. I’m sorry, my love. I know you’ll try to find me, but there is no point. Every move is random and not even Sherlock Holmes can anticipate the roll of a dice. I need to move the target far, far away from you and Rosie, and then I’ll come back, my darling. I swear I will.

Isn’t it familiar...? Yes, this is a reference to Sherlock hiding after TRF. Many Happy Returns. Just replace ‘you and Sherlock’ with ‘you, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade’.

MARY: I didn’t know what else to do. JOHN: You could have stayed. You could have talked to me. That’s what couples are supposed to do: work things through. MARY:  Yes, of course. JOHN: Mary, I may not be a very good man, but I think I’m a bit better than you give me credit for, most of the time. MARY: All the time. You’re always a good man, John. I’ve never doubted that. You never judge; you never complain. I don’t deserve you.  All I ever wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, that’s all.

Sherlock’s trying to untangle the mess he’s done.

SHERLOCK: What did you hear, Ajay? When you were a prisoner, what exactly did you hear? AJAY: What did I hear? Ammo. Every day as they tore into me. Ammo. Ammo.  Ammo.

SHERLOCK: How’s your Latin, brother dear? MYCROFT: My Latin? SHERLOCK: Amo, amas, amat. MYCROFT: I love, you love, he loves.

Sherlock tortured by love/thinking of John when in Serbia...

NORBURY killed Sherlock Mary

SHERLOCK: If you ever think I’m becoming a bit full of myself, cocky or over-confident would you just say the word ‘Norbury’ to me, would you?

Wasn’t he cocky and over-confident on the roof? He definitely was and as it turned out, he had no idea what he was doing. Idk about you, but I’m amazed at the character development.

Sherlock Mary dies - and it breaks John.

Sherlock asks Ella for help: I need to know what to do about John.

He finds a CD - MISS ME? 

I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. When I’m gone – if I’m gone – I need you to do something for me. Save John Watson. Save him, Sherlock. Save him.

--------------------------

I’ll post the second part as soon as I have some free time & energy. Didn’t want to squeeze everything into one post, because it’s too long anyway. I didn’t reread it, so sorry for all the mistakes. Transcripts x

[oh-my-otome]

What's your opinion on Shigezane's event story, and if you bought his epilogue, what did you think of that? I would love to hear your thoughts

Hello, Precious! I thoroughly enjoyed Shigezane’s event story and did indeed purchase his epilogue. Would you like to look at it together? I’d love to have your company!

Let’s have a look at the very first scene, because it says a lot about him:

We open with Shigezane running an errand, but happening upon a clandestined meet-cute. Shigezane introduces himself with an alias, a different reading of his first and last names, after beginning to say it correctly.

When it comes to character analysis, what do you see here, Precious? Think about everything you know about the Date cousins and their clan, and read it again.

Did you spot it?

Feels comfortable around you, a complete stranger (name slip)

Runs errands below his status (progressive)

Protects those close to him (keeps Masamune’s identity secret)

Watch you prepare food? (two-fold priorities: 1. ensure Masamune is not poisoned 2. curiosity)

Taste food? (1. Confirm food isn’t poisoned 2. Curiosity. 3. Hungry)

We already know that Masamune, like Ieyasu, is very understandably concerned about poisoned food, so here we see one scene multiple ways and learn something about Shigezane’s personality: 

He’s willing to help out, and he’s sociable, but his first priority is his cousin. He’s doing two things at once. You’re cute and all, but he’s there to do a job.

And speaking of cute, you’ve got it bad:

He’s similarly smitten:

The one thing that really bothered me in Shigezane and Nobuyuki’s event story is your state of mind:

You’re going through some stuff. That’s not the time to be making big decisions, and on one hand you have one suitor perfectly happy to take advantage of you, and on the other you up and leave your family for a complete stranger, having no idea if he’ll morph into something like Tarobe later on down the line. 

As the readers, we know that Shigezane isn’t like that, but hth can MC know that? She literally just met him and marries him in the same month.

The only difference between Shigezane, Nobuyuki and Tarobe in that regard is luck.

Anyway, Shigezane changes the subject, since he can see that it’s bothering you, and talks about something else:

We know that Shigezane is genuinely trying to help you, whereas Nobuyuki is trying to trap you, but they are of two completely different personality types (normal-type vs. yandere) so their motivations are simply not going to align.

This is the other thing that bothered me about their event story. It’s like 70% Nobuyuki. In the main event route, Nobuyuki’s sprites show up 65 times and Shigezane’s show up 49. Nobuyuki even shows up when it’s Shigezane’s turn. 

I would have preferred if each of the four characters had their own event stories because someone is going to get short-changed. They’re all interesting, and I want to read more about them, but in order to really get all of it, you have to buy the epilogue, which not everyone can do and not everyone wants to do. 

When they have their own event story, it feels more complete and that the epilogue is something nice to have, or else something one can do without– not an integral part of the story.

But anymarketingtactic, the next time we see Shigezane, he totes magotes doesn’t look like he’s about to rob a bank, at all:

This scene was so cute and funny. Shigezane is part of the vanguard. He could have grabbed any of his men, or something and done something over the top.

But no, he’s good. He’s got himself a handkerchief!:

What even is commanding your own troops, and having said troops rough up a few punks for a good cause?

Oh, “Mysterious Man.” You adorable goof. This way to my harem, if you please

Above: Ohoho, please do keep growling sexily, milord– ahem. 

Below: Focus, Amalthea!:

How did he even get these creepy letters? I want to read about Shigezane sneaking around like Happosai, with his handkerchief tied under his nose and a sack full of Tarobe’s scandalous letters.

I need a backstory on the poor unfortunate souls he’s been with on the low!

MC, strap on your jet pack and get tf away from him, stat!

Shigezane carries you to safety, though, so don’t worry about looking like the Rocketeer just yet.

Girl, climb him like a jungle gym! Wth are you waiting for?:

But no. You tell him thanks for the help, but you’re going to marry Lord Krispy Kreme that gleaming dome of his, tho anyway.

Sensing that you’re about as dumb as a box of hair, Shigezane brings some help:

MC, please! 

That is obviously Lord Yo Ho Ho on the left and Lord Hangs Lo on the right.

Keep up.

Below: A mother bear defends her young

After Tarobe high-tails it, it’s almost time for Shigezane to leave, so you visit him at the inn. There, you learn that his name is actually Date Shigezane and not Ito Narumi.

There was some confusion before about the different reading of his name, but you can think of it like the names Dawn and Aurora. Same name.

Before he leaves, Shigezane tries to get you to be less naive:

This was really cute. Shigezane even broke the fourth wall to mention Love Points.

Regardless of your choice, he says the same thing, but there was no “Hit Tarobe like a whack-a-mole” option, which is really too bad.

Shigezane teaches you something valuable:

You find his…uh…incredibly specific porn stash?:

I mean…we don’t kink shame here in the corner, but…did you draw that yourself, Shigezane? Where did you get it? Is there a market for sexy sous chefs serving sashimi?

He tries to grab his totally-not-supposed-to-be-you waitress porn, but ends up falling on top of you. Shenanigans occur:

I laughed so hard at this!

You fall asleep and Shigezane carries you home. The next day you realize something:

Get in line!

Music for the next scene:

You two stare lovingly at each other as you decide to tell each other about your feelings. Very sweet.

Shigezane’s epilogue is about talking to Kojuro about his totally non-existent feelings for you. Kojuro admits that although he’s had his fair share of lovers, he’s never actually been in love.

The more Shigezane tries to deny he’s in love with you, the more Kojuro laughs.

Also, there’s a really cute part where Shigezane is horrified that he was able to just shuffle right into your house and that the common folk don’t have armed guards.

As the trio are riding back to Oshu, Shigezane can’t help worrying about you, to the point of veering into Saizō-worthy listicles.

Masamune, of all of the precious, innocent buns in the package, suggests that Shigezane propose to you.

Shigezane rides his horse back into town to find you, but you’re already running his way, through the forest.

He wonders if he’s allowed to be that happy to see you, and reminds you to look the person you love in the eyes so you don’t get tricked. You say that you wouldn’t mind being tricked by him, which makes him blush.

He reveals that although he said that he would never ask you to quit your job at the restaurant, he’s changed his mind and wants you to come and cook for him in Oshu, as his wife.

He takes you back home to introduce himself to your family.

Shigezane’s event and epilogue was just cute all over. It was a very fun read and well worth the pearls– especially since his epilogue came with a cute little Masamune for your avatar.

I had liked Shigezane well enough from being a supporting character in Kojuro and Masamune’s main and event stories, but it wasn’t until Kojuro’s The Bonds of Love event story that I really became interested in Shigezane. 

I wanted to know more about the type of person he was, beyond his wingman cousin persona, and I wasn’t disappointed when it came to his Draughts of Starlight event.

[masteroftherebels]

It’s an Economic Downturn, Timmy

Happy Birthday @generatorcat! Yay for 23!!! You are one of my favorite authors in this fandom and I wanted to show some appreciation!!  I hope you have a fabulous day and that this little piece can possibly get you off to a great start! <33

(S/O to @drabblemeister for being my cheerleader when my self-esteem is feeling especially delicate haha ilu)

AO3 Link

Pairing: JayTim (mentioned CassieKon)

Rating: T, for discussion of mature themes

Word Count: 3.7k

~~~

As far as first impressions went, Tim’s was sudden, unwarranted, and above all, intensely embarrassing. In fact, he might even go so far as to say that never in his life had his mind been so utterly at odds with his body. If he could have redone a single moment in his life over again, he never would have woken up today. Instead, he would have slept in, skipped class, and been blissfully ignorant of the way the life of his unlucky doppelganger from an alternate universe changed so dramatically in the space of ten seconds.

Because let’s be real for a moment here; getting a hard on out of nowhere because the new TA did nothing more than walk into Econ 405 and run his fingers through his hair while he introduced himself , literally nothing else, was possibly, probably, most definitely the epitome of humiliation.

“I’m so screwed.”

Drips of deeply mocking laughter fell on his unprotected ears as Tim ground his forehead into the cafeteria lunch table in an effort to scrub the memories from his skull. Beside him, Cassie nearly choked on a forkful of mac-n-cheese as she took pure enjoyment in what was sure to be just the beginning of the inevitable demise of his final undergraduate year.

“More like you wish you were!” Cassie managed to get out in a normal tone before her attempt at calm fully dissolved right back into hysterical guffaws, and Tim had to cling to the tabletop to keep from falling to the linoleum when her mirth came out as a rough punch to his arm.

Across the table, Steph did her absolute worst impression of supportive friend, face going red as she struggled to slow her breathing, lest she join Cassie in her amusement.  Tim snarled at her, just daring her to let even a giggle out, but the threat was empty and the effort as effective as a kitten spitting at a rottweiler; Steph lost it.  “T-Tim, your f-face!” Her cheeks went even more red as she laughed so hard, all sound and air escaped her.

Much to his personal dismay, he’d run into Steph only a few minutes after he’d left The ClassTM and was still recovering, dammit, which is how he’d found himself in his current predicament to begin with.  She’d insisted he join her for lunch – let’s just talk, Tim, you seem stressed – but it was a trap.  A Cassie-shaped trap.

The second moment in his life that he would much prefer a do-over for was ever thinking it would be a good idea to hand feed Cassie the single, most galling thing that had ever happened to him and expect her to be a sympathetic friend about it.  He knew he should have held out until he had Steph alone.  At least then there might have been ice cream and terrible Whodunnit? episodes to soften the blow of being laughed at.

“This isn’t funny!” He hissed at the girls, shoving back at Cassie, the girl barely budging an inch. She smirked at his wasted effort to move her, and Tim’s glare morphed into an incensed scowl.”Freaking bodybuilder,” Tim muttered irritably, only causing Cassie’s smile to grow.

“Tim.”

He cast a wary glance at Cassie and tried to lean back when she dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“You popped a woody because some dude flipped hair out of his face.” A snort of laughter ripped out of Steph for a moment before she could fully contain it, and Tim slapped Cassie’s hand away.

“I know that !  Stop reminding me!” Tim groaned, smacking his hands over his face and dragging them down until the skin pulled below his eyes.  “This year was supposed to be easy—”

“Just like you, apparently,” Steph supplied helpfully.

“Shut up!” Tim whipped his head towards her, only to recoil when he found her right in his face, sprawled halfway across the table with a wicked grin splitting her lips.

“How did you even get out of class without anyone seeing?  Did you have to take a detour to the little boy’s room?” Tim’s face flushed scarlet at the mere memory of the way he’d performed a speedy shuffle of shame out the door and straight to the nearest bathroom, his bookbag clutched fiercely in front of his traitorous crotch.  He hadn't even bothered to collect the syllabus for the semester, afraid that closer proximity to the new TA might induce a bout of spontaneous combustion.

“Relax, Tim, we’re just messing with you.” Cassie waved away his stammering.  “She’s totally kidding.”

“Of course I am,” Steph settled back into her chair.  “It’s not like you actually had to ‘take care of things’.  Though that would be hilarious.”

“I—” Tim didn’t know where to start preserving his dignity, not entirely sure he even could, particularly when his brief hesitation to defend against the accusation had both girls’ eyes widening in shock as they read it for exactly what it was.

Affirmation.

“You actually—!” Tim blanched, beyond gratified when Steph clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from completing the sentence.

Cassie hissed at him demandingly, “Oh my god, Mr. Bang-Me-Bangs was that hot?”

“Mr. Bang-Me-Bangs?” Tim laughed in spite of himself.  “How does Kon even put up with you?” Tim deflected desperately, and Cassie dropped back into her seat with a grin so cocky it could put her aforementioned linebacker boyfriend to shame.

“Kon thinks I'm an absolute delight, thank you very much, and if he doesn’t, he knows better than to say so.” Cassie brandished the cheesy tines of her fork close to his nose, making him go momentarily cross-eyed, before she dug the utensil back into her food.  Stephanie rolled her eyes at Cassie’s special brand of humbleness.

Silence crept in for a few seconds before Steph suggested plainly, “You should ask him out.”

“ What!? ” Tim balked, staring at her incredulously as she leaned over with her own fork to steal a few elbows of mac from Cassie.

“What, what ? It’s a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea!” Tim fish-mouthed at her, then looked over to Cassie for support, only to receive an indifferent shrug.  How to begin explaining why the mere suggestion sounded less exciting than chipping paint off a wall with his bare, stubby fingernails?  He couldn’t quite find the words to express the absolute disaster such a thing would likely incur.

“Please,” Cassie dismissed his horror, taking a few gulps of Steph’s soda and flicking the condensation that came off on her fingers at him.  “He’s hot, you obviously like him,” her eyes dropped demonstratively to his lap, and Tim abruptly felt scandalized.  “What’s bad about it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that he’s got a super hot girlfriend?” Tim hated himself immediately just for saying it.  An adult crush.  On a straight guy.  How unbelievably appropriate that it happened now, right when Tim was just shy of having his entire life worked out.  He’d taken the quiz.  He had his shit 91% together.

“How do you even know that?” Cassie frowned at him.

“I,” Tim cut himself off, tried again, “I don’t know.  But—”

“Never know ‘til you try!” Steph interrupted cheerily.

“I say this completely unironically,” Tim muttered, “but I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” He nearly caved in on himself at the girls’ twin smiles of evil.

“You’re only feeling that way because you know we’re right,” Cassie nodded with an affected air of wisdom.

Steph rolled her eyes excessively and stated, “Tim, you have such a bad habit of assuming every guy you like is straight.”

“Yeah, well, look what happened last time I decided to just go for it.” Tim raised his brows at Cassie significantly, and only ended up earning a burst of laughter from both blondes.

“Oh, come on! Of course Kon turned you down! He was dating me. He knows how blessed he is,” Cassie proclaimed without a shred of modesty. That unsettling predatory gleam came back into her eyes then and Tim stiffened, holding his ground through sheer willpower when she reached out and twisted a lock of his hair around her fingers with a murderously loving intent.

“Besides, Kon told me he thinks you’re hot.  He likes your hair.” Before Tim could even begin touching that bold statement, Cassie’s fingers twined more tightly into the strands and gave them a short tug, tacking on, “Said it looks grippable .”

The complete unlikelihood of that had Tim releasing an unexpected bark of disbelief, and for the first time since this morning, he felt his mood lift a bit. He shook his head free of her grasp, Cassie’s smile softening along with his.  “Either that’s a total lie, or you got him incredibly drunk and asked him leading questions to get to that point.”

“Hey,” Steph chuckled, dragging Cassie’s abandoned lunch toward her side of the table. “They say you reveal your deepest desires when you’re three sheets to the wind.”

Cassie matched her grin and tapped her chin thoughtfully.  “You two would have been hot though, if I hadn’t gotten there first.” She threw her hands up in an ‘oh well’ gesture.  “Too bad I did. I’ll bet you and Professor McFuck-Me-Fringe will look hotter together anyway.”

“Stop with the stupid nicknames. You haven’t even seen him! How do you know he's actually hot and I'm not just insane?” Tim denied it with such a lack of conviction that Cassie’s gaze turned disdainful, and this time, Steph’s eyes couldn’t have rolled harder if they’d fallen out of her head.

“Hun, you got a chub just watching him push hair out of his face. The only logical conclusion is that the guy has the most insanely perfect genes to ever grace humanity if he got you to react that hard...pun absolutely intended.” Both girls dissolved back into laughter at his expense.

“You two are enjoying this way too much right now.” Tim gave the giggling girls a nasty side-eye. “Whatever, it’s still a bad idea.  Even if he is into guys, it’s against the rules for students and teachers to—”

“He’s a TA!  He’s not an actual teacher!” Stephanie argued.

“What difference does that make!” Tim snapped back.

“Now you’re just trying to make up excuses to—”

“Hey, you’re—sorry to interrupt.  You’re Tim Drake, right?”

Cassie’s head flew around so fast over her shoulder at the deep voice, Tim got whiplash just watching, while Steph lost control of her silverware entirely and had to slam her hand down dramatically to prevent it from falling to the ground.  Tim knew exactly how they felt though when both their jaws dropped at the sight of the man standing beside them.

Jason Todd, Tim’s new TA, was no less devastating to Tim’s currently fragile psyche than he’d been in the wee hours of early morning classes. In fact, the effect of what had to be at least two day’s worth of stubble spread across a strong jawline and bold features may have been even more destructive in the natural daylight shining through the cafeteria window, when compared to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the lecture hall.

The deep gray t-shirt with an abstract red slash across the chest was possibly even more form-fitting and tight wrapped around that trim torso than Tim recalled. His eyes zeroed in on sleeve hems hugging unfairly defined biceps and swore he could practically hear the seam stitches moaning with pleasure from the stretch.  An abrupt moment of body envy hit him, entirely separate from his attraction, that dissipated a few moments later.   God, how many hours does a person have to log in a gym to get a body like that?  Not my ideal way to spend time. Tim’s eyes scanned unconsciously along broad shoulders and a strong neck and had to admit, I’d watch, though. I’d definitely watch.

The crooked grin on the man’s face faltered slightly when all of them simply continued to gape in silence at him. “Uh, did I...make a mistake?”

The question snapped Tim out of his momentary stupor, although the rough quality of the man’s voice wasn’t helping the situation. “Yes, sorry, yes. Tim, that’s me. Drake. I’m Tim Drake,” he finished, biting his tongue before he could repeat his own name one more time and solidify his obvious insanity; he could feel the judging look Steph turned on him burn into the side of his head.

The grin came back, a little more smug this time, and Tim could swear – or maybe it was just high, heavenly, thirsty hopes – that the tone of voice was flirty when Jason replied, “You sure about that?”

Unable to suppress his own embarrassment, Tim barely managed to look his new TA in the eye when he nodded and replied, “Yes, I’m sure. You just caught me off guard.”

The smarmy grin turned into a pearly-white smirk, and Tim was positive this time that he wasn’t imagining it when he heard the flirtatious inflection in the return of, “Yeah, I seem to be getting that a lot today.”

The pair stared at each other, Tim incapable of grasping enough words to string together because Jason, once again , chose that moment to drag long, strong-looking fingers through his hair in a graceful swoop. Really? For god’s sake, since when was this a thing for him? Tim barely registered the cough, or the nails digging into his thigh. At some point, Steph had worked her way around the table.

“Umm, Tim?”

When it was clear that Tim had no intention of introducing either of the girls anytime soon, too transfixed by the way the small swath of white bangs curved just so at his TA’s hairline, Steph turned back to the man, who extended his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Stephanie. I’m a friend of Mr. Speechless here.”

“Hey, I’m Jason.” The TA grinned at her introduction, and despite wanting to throttle her with his bare hands, Tim still couldn’t bring words to the surface, entranced by the way the muscles in Jason’s forearm flexed when he gripped Steph’s hand. “I’m the teacher’s assistant for Warwick’s Econ classes this semester.” Jason turned to Cassie, who, like Tim, had yet to appropriately react.  “You must be another friend of Tim’s?”

“Cassie.” Her name came out in a breathy, almost surreal whisper as Cassie slipped her hand into Jason’s larger one, and it garnered a humorous smile from the man.

“Pleasure to meet you, Cassie.” Glancing at Tim, he lowered his voice and asked with that same smirk, “He always this talkative?”

Cassie erupted into the highest-pitched giggles Tim had ever heard come out of her, and it blessedly gave him the ability to look somewhere other than Jason’s face, if only to stare at her like she’d gone completely batshit. Even Jason looked a little stunned. She clapped a hand over her mouth, shooting a mortified look at Tim, who finally managed to find some spine in the wake of Cassie’s utter embarrassment, and he turned to fully face Jason.

“What brings you over to our table, Mr. Todd?”

“Ugh, please, I can’t be more than a few years older than you,” Jason’s lips curled back in a disgusted grimace.  “Let’s just stick with Jason.” He paused, watching Tim assessingly for a second before some sort of decision must have been made and he offered, “Or you could call me Jay.”

Was it just Tim or had there been a strong emphasis on “you” in that offer?

“Jason, then.” He’d work himself up to Jay.  He could barely handle his reactions to the man finger-combing his own hair; Tim would probably implode trying to use an intimate nickname at this point. And it was definitely intimate. Tim could practically taste it on his tongue, the same way he'd say it in the bathroom when— “Did I forget something in class?” He questioned a little harshly, just to choke off his own train of thought.

“Yes, actually.” Jason turned to rummage in his bag, and Tim’s eyes instantly dropped down to the strip of skin showing as the t-shirt shifted and rose with each motion of his digging arm.

Skin...no skin...smooth, tanned skin...no skin...gorgeous, begging to be licked skin…

A sound of success was followed almost immediately by a piece of paper blocking Tim’s fantastic view, and he inadvertently glowered at the sheet without actually processing what it was.

“Whoa, didn’t realize you’d hate office hours that much.”

“Huh?” Tim answered intelligently, transferring his gaze up to find Jason grinning at him with a single raised eyebrow.

“My office hours.” Jason waved the paper, recapturing Tim’s attention so he could see the location and hours each week that Jason had set up for students to come see him for help. “You just tried to eviscerate my selfless offering with your eyes.”

“What! I did not—” Tim snapped his attention back up, ready to defend his insanity, but found himself enthralled by deep teal eyes that sparkled--whose eyes actually sparkle in real life?-- when Jason opened his mouth and laughed at Tim's earnest protest.

“You are too easy,” Jason commented, no doubt in reference to Tim's apparent gullibility. Tim could only agree wholeheartedly that, for Jason, yes. Yes, he would be so easy. In fact, the man would probably never have an easier time even if he walked into a hands-on strip club.

Tim took the paper from Jason's hand, careful not to touch him, as he was fairly certain his entire body would go numb from the contact. His efforts were futile though because the moment Jason let go, he reached up and ruffled a hand through Tim's hair in a friendly gesture.

Time slowed. Tim’s vision blurred as all his senses honed in on the feeling of that large, warm hand roughly carding through his locks. Tim’s entire being turned to jelly from the sensation and the paper floated softly to the floor at his feet. The hand paused. No, keep petting me , Tim’s pathetic brain pleaded.

But then.

Then .

Fingers pulled at his hair a bit, got a grip on the strands, and tipped Tim’s head back a few inches so he was trapped in a stare-off with his unnaturally striking TA, and Jason was just looking. At. Him.

He can’t, Tim’s brain spasmed, unable to quite comprehend that a virtual stranger could so blatantly ignore the concept of a personal bubble, or that Tim would have absolutely zero words of complaint.  And of course, Jason’s head leaned down so he was even closer, so Tim’s brain completely short-circuited.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jason’s brow furrowed with concern as he looked Tim over, who for his part, felt he must be hallucinating the entire situation, it was so surreal.  “You seem a little out of it.” Jason stepped back, releasing his hold, and Tim couldn’t have controlled his lean to follow that hand if his life depended on it.  Jason paused, lips twitching a little at Tim’s obvious motion, but he graciously let it slide.

Tim was certain it would come back to bite him in the ass eventually, so he was only slightly less horrified with himself.

“I’m good. Just, tired.” The excuse felt lame just leaving his mouth, but Tim had nothing. He’d been rendered incapable of his usually quippy mind, and could only do what was necessary to keep his nose above the water.

“I can imagine,” Jason eyed him, obviously not believing it for a second, but Tim was once again forced to be grateful that the man was letting it go. “Well, I’ve delivered what I came for. I’ll let you guys get back to lunch.” With a little wave, Jason turned to leave. “See you Thursday, Tim.”

“What? Oh, yeah, class. Bye.” Tim could only wave absently back because Jason’s smile was devastating when he shot it over his shoulder and walked away.

The moment the TA was out of earshot, all three friends collectively drew a stabilizing breath.

“ Shit , he’s hot.  I completely lost it for a minute there.” Cassie fanned herself dramatically.

“For a minute ?” Steph scoffed, moving back around the table to take her seat.  “I’m telling Kon you nearly dropped your panties in the cafeteria.”

“Don't you dare tell Kon. I will break you.” Cassie growled, fingers curling into harpy claws, though Steph seemed unfazed.

“I’m so telling Kon, you are going to be playing good girlfriend for weeks to make up for this,” Steph cackled.

“I’m so glad it wasn’t just me,” Tim commiserated, pulling a murmur of assent from both girls as they simultaneously craned their necks to watch the last flash of Mr. Jason Todd, Teacher’s Assistant Extraordinaire, exit the cafeteria doors.  The moment his back was no longer visible, Steph shook her head in wonderment and stabbed absently at Cassie’s cooling macaroni, missing it by a mile but obviously not caring in the least.

“That man’s picture is right beside the word ‘rugged’ in the dictionary.” Steph’s eyes flared with heat, and she practically waxed poetic. “He looks like he just got back from logging in the woods, and is casually prepared to fight off a bear and then later take you by the light of the cabin fireplace. The only thing missing is plaid and an axe.”

Tim laughed hoarsely at her over-the-top, but somewhat scarily accurate description.

“That, or he’s straight out of a Chippendale’s show,” Cassie surmised, and all three of them shared a moment of breathless imagination at the very prospect.  Cassie turned wide eyes filled with endless pity on Tim, one hand held lightly to her chest. “Sweetie, you really weren’t kidding. You are so screwed.”

Tim’s head fell to the table once again with a thump, Jason’s office hours scrunching in his hands.  “Oh god. I’m gonna fail Econ.”

~~~

A/N:  Chippendale’s is a male exotic dance club in Las Vegas, for anyone who doesn’t know.