#working on what must have surely been his highest budget to date (for all the stupidity on display‚ and for all the shortcomings in script

[checked-windows]

Stupid Smug Prefect Face

Also cross posted on ao3.

Spencer Reid x trans male reader

We see dad!hotch cause man is total dad material.

Warnings : swearing, suggestive themes, tw for depressive thoughts and I think that's everything!

Strauss was introducing a new agent today and emotions varied, they knew very little about them only that they were fresh out of the academy with one of the highest scores that they had seen. Rossi was almost vibrating with excitement when Strauss had accidentally let your name slip to him but had sworn him to secrecy.

They had gathered in the round table room in order to wait for her to bring you and she did. You walked next to her with your head held high, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle on your dark grey suit. They started profiling you immediately. You were uncomfortable in the suit, it wasn't your usual atire and you were just wearing it to make a good impression. Age range was 20 to 35 roughly. You held yourself to high standards and would not allow for any sloppy work. As much as you stood tall you also had a slight hunch in your spine from what looked like years of slouching over.

"Stop profiling me" your voice snapped them out of their heads "Seriously, I'm an open book just ask me what you want to know."

"Tig" Rossi greeted taking your face in his hands kissing both of your cheeks before pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed.

"It's good to see you Dave" you said into his shoulder. Dave was only just taller than you but enough that he could see over your head.

"Sorry I'm late, budget meetings" a very familiar voice came from behind you. Your released Dave and spun around grinning.

"Suprise!" you exclaimed jumping at him. Aaron caught you easily smiling, wrapping you up in a hug, out of both men he had always given the best hugs.

"(y/n)!" he said laughing. Smiles on Hotch's face had come few and far between after Haley's death but he happily smiled at you "You never said anything"

"I wanted it to be able to surprise you for once" you answered shrugging finally letting him go. Aaron's hand stayed on your shoulder as Strauss introduced you to the rest of the team with a faint smile on her own face.

"This is Agent (y/n) (l/n), they'll be here for a while" she said and you snorted.

"Oh no you're stuck with me now. Please just call me Tig. These two do" you said pointing between Aaron and Dave or Hotch and Rossi while you were in the office. You had been there a few days before your first case, you had been at home with Aaron and Jack and hadn't quite managed to change out of the pants and shirt you had worn into work, due to the excitement that Jack brought with him, so that's what you wore back in, just with the top button undone and your hair pointing in everywhich angle from Jack playing with it while watching whatever movie it had been. Staying the night at Aaron's had started as a weekly occurance a year or so after you had met him, and you had moved in permanently after you had graduated from college and joined the academy.

"Ooh walk of shame, tiggy" Morgan called. You weren't entirely sure when he had changed your nickname but you rolled your eyes and smirked while Penelope went about flattening your hair back down in order to look more presentable.

"Aaron you should have said we were doing that I would have turned off the cartoons you said and got an eye roll from said man. The teams eyes widened comically." I'm kidding, it was movie night with Jack and I hadn't got changed yet"

"Was it the one with dragons again?" Dave asked.

"Yes" Aaron answered as you shrugged, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Your child had his hands in my hair I wasn't paying attention" you said with a lopsided smile which got you a shake of his head. Penelope gave everyone a run down but you felt your eyelids getting heavy about half way through. You weren't entirely sure how you got on the jet but there your were curled up on a chair next to Aaron, your face pressed against his arm, falling asleep to the voices around you. Completely missing the glare a certain doctor was sending you. The case went almost without a hitch. Almost. The unsub wasn't going down easily, you had profiled him as unorganised (the team had agreed) but he wasn't. He had led you all into a trap and when you had figured it out chose suicide by cop. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, which had left you and Reid to clear up the teams borrowed space.

"Well that could've gone better" you said trying to initiate conversation as well as lighten the mood.

"No thanks to you" Reid snapped and your eyes widened "I didn't realise you were that bad I don't know what Hotch was thinking getting you in here"

"I don't understand" you said meekly wringing your fingers.

"Everyone knows you're sleeping with Hotch to get here" Reid spat and left the room with an armful of boxes. You stared behind him tears pricking your eyes. You angry wiped at your eyes with your shirt sleeve and grabbed the other box. You sat shotgun next to Aaron on the way back to the jet only to seclude yourself as far away as possible when you got there. You should have known better than to get on a plane full of profilers upset but it was too late by this point. Aaron moved to sit opposite you laying a hand on your knee. You snatched your leg away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing. It's fine" you almost snapped at him, he raised an eyebrow but you shut down refusing to hold eye contact.

"(y/n) what's going on?" he asked again. You shook your head, hiding things from Aaron had never been easy, but he knew not to push too much. "We'll talk about this at home"

There was really no choice in the matter and you caught Reid's scowl this time. The conversation at home was just as bad as you imagined it would be. Aaron was furious at the accusation, he was shouting. Not at you just about the subject, demanding to know who had told you that. You never told him. You just said that it had been brought to your attention. You tried to keep it together but tears were streaming down your face. Out of both sadness and humiliation.

"Oh honey. Come here" Aaron stuck out his arms and you slid into them. Physical contact was your love language and hugs were like air for you, as well as being comforting for the situation. You slept in Aaron's bed that night but changed up your entire routine, arriving after him in the morning after making a flimsy excuse, not visiting his office randomly during the day when it was quiet, not joining him for lunch no matter how many times he asked. Aaron noticed immediately but didn't say anything instead he went to Rossi who gave him the obvious answer but that would open up a whole new can of worms. So he allowed you to distance yourself for a couple days. You just hoped he didn't notice the glares you and Reid shot at each other or the hurtful snarls of insults in passing or currently you unscrewing his chair as payback for him putting the sugar on the top shelf where he knew you couldn't reach it. Was it petty? Yes. Did you care? No.

You successfully got two screws out before Morgan knocked the desk in warning. Bouncing up from the floor you dropped the screw driver in your bag and the screws in your pocket. Reid sat at his chair and it creaked but did not give way, you frowned and put the two screws on his desk watching in almost delight as his face fell and horror replaced the relaxed features.

"(l/n), where are these from?" he asked sitting impossibly still.

"You figure it out genius" you said smirking, after a particularly hurtful comment about your intelligence you used the term genius more and more.

"Tig, please stop tormenting Reid" Aaron's voice sighed from your left but you just beamed at him. Not spending time with him was hard and seeing him with the same exasperated look he gave you when you had taught Jack the macerana was enough to make your day. Especially when you had worn a short sleeve shirt to work forgetting that your tattoo was now visible to everyone, Morgan and Penelope had persistently asked what the Roman numerals signified you had answered with 'one of the best days of my life' and left it at that. Aaron put a coffee cup and a small gift bag in front of you before kissing the side of your head gently.

"Happy anniversary" he said quietly and went back to his office. Leaving you beaming like an idiot at your desk. You took a sip of the coffee and opened the bag, you raised an eyebrow at the manilla envelope but opened it slowly. You scanned the pages, mouth dropping open and happy tears forming. You jumped up from your chair taking two stairs at a time to Aaron's office barging in ignoring the looks behind you.

"Are you being serious?" you almost shout and he just grins at you. Then nods.

"You just need to sign the forms and pick a date" he said and your behind his desk in seconds wrapped around him like a koala.

"Thank you" you whisper followed by another several thank yous and a declaration of love which he returns stroking the back of your head gently. The door opens and Dave pokes steps in quickly.

"Meltdown?" he asks quietly. You sniffle and laugh.

"No but I do think I've just won person of the year award" Aaron laughs and you are just happy to press your face against his shoulder. Dave must have known Aaron's plan because you could hear the smile in his voice.

"And here I was thinking (y/n) would throw a fit for you spending this much money" Dave pointed out because he had offered to pay and you had lectured him about being self sufficient for 25 minutes while Aaron had cackled in the corner.

"No more boob" you murmered into Aaron's jacket which earned you two lots of laughter "No more sore ribs" Aaron's hand was rubbing your back at this point over the material of the binder hidden beneath clothing. A kiss was pressed to the side of your head again.

"Just so you're aware. The blinds are open" Dave supplied.

"It's OK they all think I fucked my way here anyways" you mumble but haul yourself off Aaron's lap, even as he sighed at your comment "Thank you again. I'm surprised you remembered the date"

"As if I could forget it's one of the days of your life" he responded and you went back to your desk after kissing both of them on the cheek, Dave only got one cause he was blocking the only exit and refused to move until you gave him one.

Aaron decided that hosting a party at the house was a great way to integrate you into the team more, both of you had spent hours the night before prepping dishes while fending off Jack trying to eat them. Then you were fending off Aaron's attempt at eating parts of them and swore down that they were the reason you had grey hairs so young and promptly kicked both of them out of the kitchen. Aaron let you sleep in even while the team were arriving, as far as he was concerned you needed it.

Dave had been last to arrive with the excuse that cool people were never on time.

"Where's tigs?" he asked Aaron who was pouring coffees.

"Still asleep, actually Jack do you think you could wake (y/n) up?" Aaron asked and the boy nodded.

"Is he in your bed?" he asked and it was Aaron's turn to nod. The boy darted upstairs to wake the beast.

"Long night?" Dave asked and Morgan wiggled his eyebrows. Aaron sighed.

"Same nightmare again, he woke up screaming twice" he answered and Morgan's face fell.

"Pretty boy why don't you give him some sleeping tips, surely that big brain of yours knows something to help" he suggested and Spencer scowled at him but before he could answer you shuffled into the room wearing a pair of Aaron's shorts and an oversized hoodie. Spencer glanced at you before looking away completely, he hated that his brain supplied that you looked adorable or that you should be wearing his clothes instead.

"Good afternoon" JJ said with a grin and you looked at the clock on the fridge.

"It's 11:58 so still morning, you psychopaths are here early" you said and Aaron passed you a cup of coffee "Oh I love you and you love me"

"Yeah I do" Aaron said as you sat next to Emily at the table.

"I was talking to the coffee" you said smiling into the mug which earned you a gentle slap upside the head.

Aaron and Dave were taking things outside when your phone started buzzing on the table. You picked it up mentally preparing to answer it.

"Aaron! It's shot day" you called, shutting off the alarm "I'm gonna do it myself, I'll shout if I need you" you heard a shout of agreement back and downed the rest of your coffee in order to hunt for the box on the cupboard. At some point during cleaning Aaron had put it on the top shelf which meant to you to climb to reach it, cursing him the entire time. Morgan had stood behind you ready to catch you if you fell.

"Just being safe Tiggy" he had said and you bounced off the work top.

"Oh I've fallen off way worse" you responded "Walls, trees and a person that one time"

You smiled at the looks they gave you and finished out one of the needles and the vial of testosterone. A shout from the back yard drew your attention away.

"Screw you! I'm more than capable of stabbing myself with a needle" you shouted back only to hear Aaron and Dave laughing.

"Yeah dad!" Jack called and you ruffled his hair on the way past, Jack was happy enough to wander around and talk to everyone. You were glad he was becoming the social butterfly that you and Aaron were not.

You on the other hand had been sitting on the edge of the tub for 15 minutes trying to work out how to put the needle in your leg without looking at it.

"(y/n), everything OK? Hotch sent me up to check on you" Spencer's voice called through the wooden door.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine" you says before shaking your head "Actually could you get Aaron?"

You heard a faint grumble but couldn't make it out and Aaron was in the bathroom moments later helping you with your shot. Not long later you found yourself sitting between his legs on the concrete patio. Refusing a chair no matter how many times he offered.

"So how long have you been on hormones?" Penelope asked, you touched your tattoo gently.

"Four years" you answered and they realised what one of the best days of your life had been. The conversation flowed from there and Aaron seemed happy you were opening up to them, occasionally he would card his fingers through your hair or try and plat the short strands. You had rested your head against the inside of his thigh as Dave recalled your first meeting and all the meetings afterwards.

"If we had found you when you were 6 Aaron would have a criminal record for aggravated assault and I'd have a child to babysit" Dave pointed out after you and Reid had partially compared childhoods, his parents were neglectful out of illness yours were out of malice.

"We were 13 years late to the party, but I think it was worth it when we finally did arrive" Dave finished. Then the team realised that you had been 19 when your had met Aaron and Spencer looked disgusted but you ignored him.

"Of course I didn't start coming over until I was 20, I moved in after I graduated UVA " you said thinking back on it being 25 and knowing the men for this long was mildly amusing. Even Haley had welcomed you in with open arms after a while. The rest of the day went without a hitch until Jack had thrown a water balloon at you and you had tried to smother him with your now wet shirt. In taking it off you had revieled the rest of your tattoos to the team. Haleys birthstone under your collarbone, Jack's name in cursive on your upper arm, a fish on the opposite shoulder and another date across your heart. You didn't mind, they were a big part of you.

If anyone had asked you that morning your day had been going great, that was until Spencer Reid swooped in with all his stupidness. Hell broke lose when you went to get a coffee and Anderson bumped into you which caused you to bump into Reid.

"Sorry!" Anderson called as he escaped the room.

"Sorry Reid, domino effect" you tried to apologise but he spun on you.

"Watch where your going" he growled and you rolled your eyes at him. Everyone in the team bar Aaron and Dave had witnessed you both butting heads at least once and each of them had assured you that Reid would chill out eventually and that he just didn't like change very much and of course a new member of the team was a big change.

"Get a grip" you snarled at him "Anderson bumped me into you and we've both apologised, genius"

"Don't call me that" he snapped and went to walk away but stopped "Sex in the office is a new low even for you"

He was clearly referring to the two hours you had spent in Aaron's office that morning trying to work out the logistics of time off for your surgery.

"Excuse me?" you snarled.

"Also studies show that you should never tattoo an anniversary on yourself due to pressure it desolves the relationship faster"

Reid walked away after poking you in the chest over the tattood date and you watched him with wide eyes before growling and stalking after him.

"We've got a bad one" JJ's voice broke through your need to punch the doctor in his stupidly perfect face. You froze briefly, perfect?

You shook your head slightly and moved to the round table room making sure to slam your shoulder into Reid's for good measure. He scowled behind you but you sat between Dave and Morgan in order to be as far away from him as possible.

The case was not going well in the slightest, the local police were unhelpful and there were 5 teenagers missing with no leads. This is where you had the advantage, you looked younger than you were and the right outfit would take a good couple years off. Aaron had been very against the idea from the start and had sat on the bed of your hotel room grumbling as you got ready.

"This is a terrible idea" he said as you pulled on one of his spare tshirts which always made you look younger. Making sure it was sitting right in the mirror.

"Aaron, you are being a mother hen. If this was anyone else it would be fine" you said before spiking up your hair.

"That's not true" Aaron said crossing his arms over his chest, you raised an eyebrow at him and he glanced down at himself. Unfurling his arms only to recross them "I worry about you, the others have more field experience, and you're still my baby"

"Jack is your baby. I'm the one you picked out of a line up" you laughed and felt his hands on your shoulders.

"You are both my babies. Also I think we should talk about Reid" he said and your eyes widened "Later, when we are home but I know you don't think I've noticed, the way you look at him and the constant tormenting. You know what they say about little boys pulling pig tails in the playground"

"I have no clue what your talking about" now it was you crossing your arms "I want to punch Reid in his stupid arrogant smug pretty face"

Aaron was grinning at you, the one that rose his eyebrows and showed his teeth.

"Yes" he said as your eyes widened.

"No. NO no no no" you said, half an hour later you refused to make eye contact with anyone while your were dropped off at the park with the instructions to look like a kid walking around. After the slight argument with Aaron about your own emotions you had the sulky teenager look down to a fine art. You had told him it was possibly a silly crush at most and that it would go away in time. Then everything went pear shaped quickly, there was a cloth covering your mouth and nose and a hand around your throat. You passed out with the faint noise of Aaron calling your name through the comm. The next few hours passed in a blur, the unsub, Dean Wertim, had originally started out as almost kind then he had snapped when you couldn't answer his questions. Your head was still spinning from the force of his punches. You weren't sure when you had passed out again but gentle hands on your face and someone calling your name brought you back around.

"Drk" you slurred when Morgan's face filled you vision, someone was behind you untying the ropes from your wrists "Wrs arn?"

"Hotch went into a different room he's on his way here. I promise" Morgan spoke softly, two sets of hands were helping you to stand and stay balanced. You knew Morgan was one of them so you swivelled your head to look. Reid was looking back at you and he didn't look happy, in the slightest. Part of you wanted to request a new rescuer. Light reflected off of something to your left and it took a few seconds to realise that it was a gun pointed at you. You kicked the back of Morgan's knee sending his sprawling and tackled Reid to the ground as three shots filled the air. People were shouting but all you could concentrate on was the pain in your side and the almost soothing voice coming from under you.

"(y/n), come on listen to me. You need to breath" the voice said you tried to nod and were rolled off of the boney figure under you. Hands were pressed roughly to your side "(y/n). Come on don't you dare close your eyes"

"Spencer?" you asked his face finally coming into view, he looked grim, his lips forced into a straight line.

"(y/n)!" Aaron's face was also above you now but all your could do was blink at him and hiss in pain with Reid pressed harder. You tried for a smile but the two men didn't return it even as your eyes slid shut.

Aaron's heart had been thundering in his chest since he saw you dropping to the ground, Reid had broken your fall but the whole team could see the panic spread on his face after the gunshots. Dave had threatened the medics with bodily harm if they didn't hurry up and they had all felt useless waiting in the hospital waiting room. Spencer had wiped his hands clean of blood while the man had just stared at them and they had all huddled close. Dave was trying to comfort Aaron who was slowly working himself into a panic seeing Haley all over again.

"Agent Hotchner?" a nurse asked, he was on his feet in seconds moving towards her "Mr (l/n) suffered from minor internal bleeding after we got the bullet of out his side. It was a fight for a while to get him stable but he is now." she said and Aaron was nodding alone.

"Can we go see him?" he asked and the nurse shook her head.

"Immediate family only" she said looking between them. Aaron frowned.

"We are his family" he said slowly then nurse opened her mouth to argue but Aaron's wasn't having any of it "Let me see my son, or so help me I will be on the phone faster than you can say 'wait'"

The teams eyes widened but Aaron was too panicked and frustrated to care. They eventually let him through to see you once they had hunted through your file for the copy of the adoption certificate. By the time you had woken up the whole team had managed to get into your room.

"Dad?" you mumbled when you finally focused enough to see his face. His fingers tightened around your hand.

"I'm here. You can go back to sleep" he whispered and you did.

Getting out the hospital was a small affair, Dave and Aaron had taken you home and you had spent the rest of the day curled up on the sofa with them and Jack refusing to release your grip on any of them. Aaron became even more protective of you but you had assured him as much as you loved him that the BAU was just as much your dream as it was his and you weren't leaving no matter what. It took a month of constant puppy eyes before you managed to even set foot back in the office. Spencer avoided you like the plague and your couldn't get the rest of them to leave you alone. The doctor had successfully avoided you for 5 hours before you finally managed to corner him in the men's restroom.

"OK spill, what is wrong with you?" you snapped at him, there had been no jibes or pranks. Nothing.

"I'm sorry" he answered and you stopped to look at him.

"For the past three months I've been insinuating that you were sleeping with Hotch, I didn't know he was your dad"

"Aaron adopted me years ago" you said shurgging "Not long after I met him when he was doing a presentation for the criminal psychology class I was trying to sneak into, I owe a lot to that man. But I let you think what you wanted and so did he because correcting you would bring up the 'oh your only here cause your dad's the unit chief' and honestly Spencer that sucks"

"I shouldn't have been such an ass about it" he said.

You blinked at him before a smile crawled onto your face. The hallmarks were on there and you were sure how you hadn't put it together quicker.

"Spencer were you jealous?" you asked and he tried to barge past you but you stopped him with a "Spencer" and a hand on his chest. His eyes avoided yours but you gripped his chin and grinned, his eyes dropped to your lips before going back to your eyes.

"Hotch is too old for you" he mumbled and the grin never left your face.

"He's my dad" you respond "And you were jealous!"

You weren't entirely sure what happened but Spencer's lips were pressing against yours, you gripped the front of his vest and pulled him in closer. He pushed you against the sink, his lips never leaving yours. You pulled away to breath.

"Me. You. Date?" you breathed. Spencer laughed and nodded ducking his head once more to kiss you.

The date had gone well, you had picked Spencer up and taken him to a restaurant that Dave had helped you get a reservation for as much as you refused to tell him who the date was with.

"Does Hotch know we are on a date?" he asked when you were driving him home.

"Nope" you said popping the p "You've been in an interagration with Aaron. Do you want to be on the receiving end?"

"Good point" Spencer responded after a second. You pulled up outside his apartment complex. "Do you want to come up?"

"Spencer Reid, on the first date" you said with mock scandal, his face flushed red and he started stuttering "I'm kidding. Let me park then I'll come up"

That's exactly what you did before following Spencer up the stairs with his hand in yours.

"We could totally just make out on the sofa like teenagers?" you suggested only to be pulled forward by your shirt. Well Dave's shirt that you had stolen. Somehow Spencer had ended up in your lap, your arms wrapped around his waist his fingers clinging to your neck and jaw as your mouths moved together. His tongue chased yours between your mouths, your own fingers dug into his hip bones. He whispered your name into your mouth and your flipped him over so you were pressing him against the cushions and hovering over him with one knee between his thighs.

"Hi" you breathed looking down at him. His hair splayed like a halo around his head, your hands pressed into the plush material, his on your shoulders.

"Hello" he whispered back, and that tongue that drove you crazy when you had first met him peaked out to wet his lips. You bowed your head pressed a chaste kiss to him lips, he chased you as your tried to pull back his hands on your face again holding you still.

"I should go" you murmered against him, he tried to hold you where you were "Seriously Spencer. If I don't go now we are going to do something neither of us are ready for"

That seemed to resonate with him cause his grip on you loosened.

"One more for the road?" he suggested and tugged you back down to meet him. One for the road turned into your shirt on the floor and his hanging loosely off his frame, Spencer had a necklace of bruises across his chest and one that would just be covered by his shirt collar. Yours were less contained sporadically across your chest, even under the straps of your binder and one on your ribs. You finally left almost an hour later after hunting down your shirt and leaving a last lingering kiss on his lips. You were pleased to see the lights off in Aaron's House when you arrived and tip toed through the house to get a drink from the kitchen, you were moving back to the stairs when a light caught your eye and you froze glass half way to your lips.

"And what time do you call this?" Aaron asked marking his page and closing the book on his lap. You felt like a teenager being caught sneaking out after curfew. Then remembered that you were an adult and you could return at anytime.

"I" you started then froze again because Aaron was smirking at you.

"How was your date?" he asked when you dropped down on the sofa next to him, curling up against his side.

"It was good. Really good" you murmur against his arm before it was moved and wrapped around you to pull you closer. You heard him sniff and realised you definitely smelt like Spencer. "Don't start"

"I'm just working out who he is" Aaron said with a laugh "Maybe if you told me his name"

"So you can have Pen do a background search?" you asked looking up at him.

"No" he answered "yes"

You sighed opening your mouth to bite the bullet but his phone was ringing. You briefly heard the conversation but the gist of it was a case. You called Jess while Aaron got ready and he drove you both to the office. The conversation was briefly forgotten until you reached the elevator and were heading up.

"We'll continue this conversation later? If you want" he suggested and you smiled at him your agreement.

Clearly Spencer had time to change because he wasn't wearing what he had been only an hour ago. You on the other hand were still wearing the same outfit that wasn't quite work appropriate, the shirt itself was thin and ridiculously expensive.

"Oh tiggy, did we interrupt a date?" Morgan asked leaning forward with a grin on his face.

"Nope" you answered and took the t-shirt the Aaron offered, Spencer shifted in his seat to rest his chin in his hand accidentally showing the hickey you had left on the side of his neck.

"Oh pretty boy got some lovin'. What's her name?" Morgan asked and Penelope squeeked from next to him. You went to move away to change your shirt but JJ stopped you.

"Get changed here. We need to go through this case" JJ said handing out folders. Your eyes widened but you couldn't think of an excuse without it looking suspicious. You unbuttoned the shirt as she started talking aiming to get it off and replaced as fast as humanly possible, you thought you had succeeded but you managed to get stuck in the t-shirt in your haste. The briefing stopped and you managed to pop your head through the hole. Everyone was looking at you then to Spencer who was flushed red and you decided to just take in his features before Aaron murdered him.

The case was a quick one however, Aaron wouldn't leave you and Spencer unattended for any period of time. It was on the jet back when Spencer finally broke.

"Don't mind him, he's being a helicopter parent" you responded throwing your legs over Spencer's thighs, he wrapped a hand around your ankles to keep you steady.

"Don't anger him, please" Spencer almost begged and you folded an arm behind your head with a grin blowing him a kiss.

"No PDA one the plane" Aaron snapped and your grinned more swinging your legs off Spencer's lap to stand up, you leaned down an pressed a quick kiss to Spencer's lips before dropping down next to Aaron.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked leaning against him, Aaron glanced down briefly before going back to his file "Dad."

"Why Reid?" he said then looked at the doctor "No offence"

Spencer waved a hand to show that it wasn't taken to heart.

"Why not Reid?" you retorted "Would you be like this if it was Morgan and Pen? Or Emily and JJ? No. You would not"

"They are not my kids" Aaron spoke slowly and you shook your head, he sighed "Maybe I'm being a little over protective"

"A little?" you scoff "Dad I promise I'll keep you up to date on everything"

Which got you a resigned nod.

"So we went on a date, I was very gentlemanly. Pick him up, pulled out his chair for him. Had a lovely meal" you said then smiled widly "Then the lovely doctor invited me up to his apartment"

Aaron's eyes widened briefly and his head snapped around to you and his mouth opened.

"Nothing happened, I promise" you patted his arm before moving to sit next to Spencer once more.

"That's not what those bruises say" Emily pointed out, you winked at her as you sat down. Aaron was watching you with narrowed eyes, you gave him your best smile and pulled out your phone to play online scrabble.

"We'll put a tie around the door knob" you said typing and Aaron nodded before it finally caught up in his brain.

"No. There will be no such activities" he said pointing at Spencer, you wiggled your eyebrows. Spencer nodded like he was wholeheartedly agreeing with him and you cackled.

Life continued as normal, cases, killers. Your relationship with Spencer flourished even with the tight leash Aaron was keeping you on. On the fourth month mark your were getting ready for another date while Aaron followed you around your room giving you the safety lecture. You stopped and whirled on him taking his face in both hands.

"It's just Spencer. I'll be fine, you're helicopter-ing again" you said pressing a kiss to his forehead, he sighed and nodded.

"Do you need anything?" he asked and you cut him off.

"Don't finish that sentence" you warned earning a smile "Seriously, OK stop worrying. Spencer's a gentleman if anything you should be more worried about him than me"

He finally released you into Spencer's car.

"You look lovely" Spencer greeted with a kiss.

"Not so bad yourself" you responded. The movie was great from what you actually saw between Spencer kissing you. That's pretty sure how you both ended up sprawled on his bed covered in sweat and panting heavily. You reached out to tangle your fingers together, then both your phones started ringing.

"We have a case" JJ's voice flowed through the speaker.

"We'll be there in 30" you said stroking Spencer's knuckles.

"You sound out of breath" she pointed out with glee in her voice.

"He sounds what!" you heard Aaron shout and you hung up the phone quickly.

"How attached are you to your balls?" you asked Spencer and he paled. Aaron was trying not to show his emotions but when you both had shown up with post-sex hair, he had almost exploded and you had just laughed. Then 3 weeks later everything went to hell, you and Spencer had a massive fight and you had went back to Aaron with your tail between your legs and tears streaming down your face. Who had just held onto you while you cried out your feelings. Then the case went wrong and you had gone in without a vest or backup. Not on purpose, you had been in the area as the unsub had started brandishing a gun. Aaron was yelling at you, well more like screaming and you were taking it like a champ. Standing still, hardly breathing probably looking like a scared child. Yeah like a champ.

"If you die how does that look on me. You are my responsibility (y/n)! Just because your my kid doesn't mean that you can just ignore my orders" he shouted. Your heart thumped in your chest when he stepped forward and you were no longer seeing Aaron, you were seeing your biological father. "You don't listen! Why do you have to be so reckless?"

Your brain didn't quite pick up the rest of the lecture, every word felt like a slap to the face. Actually you would have rather the slaps. Then you heard the words "worthless" and "waste of my time" and your heart shattered in your chest.

"Aaron" Dave said from behind you but you were too busy trying to push your way out of the office.

"I'm going home" you stammered, struggling to see through tears and the pain in your chest. Dave made an effort to stop toy but you were already out the door.

"(y/n) wait" Aaron called from behind your as you continued your path towards the exit. Then Spencer tried to stop you after seeing the worry of Aaron's face as he tried to chase you.

"Fuck off Reid" you snarled shoving him away. You keep walking, stabbing the down button in the elevator which shut just before Aaron got there. You left everything at the BAU, car, phone, bag. You cried as you walked hugging yourself around your stomach. It really was only a matter of time before they got fed up with you, Spencer had been right all along you weren't cut out for the job and Aaron, the man had adopted you at almost 20 so that you had some resemblance of a family after your own had thrown you to the curb after you had come out. If you had been home, where you were supposed to be, Haley would have still been here, but no you had been at extra tutoring for your masters. Then you realised you didn't know where you were, so you kept walking until you saw something familiar. The park was empty bar a few dog walkers. When the libraries opened tomorrow you would email your resignation letter, parks were probably going to become your new norm. You were too busy trying to plan anything and everything that you missed the stranger sitting next to you.

"Thought you'd be here" Dave spoke softly snapping you back to reality. You didn't even look at him.

"Go away Dave" you sighed. There was no fight in it. Not really.

"Sorry Tigger. No can do" he replied, you wanted him to leave. Your life was over, there was a bridge not far away. It was high enough to take care of all your problems. "Come on, let's get you home" he tried to coax you to your feet.

"I don't have a home" you whispered "Just go Dave, Aaron probably needs you for something. A lawyer maybe to reverse the adoption, I'm sure you know someone to help him"

Dave must've realised your plan because he moved closer to you and wrapped you in his arms. Tightly.

"No. Kid I know what's going on in your head and that's not the answer. We've hit a snag that's all. It can be fixed" he said his grip tightening.

"Doesn't matter. He's got you and the team and his son he doesn't need me. I wasn't there when he needed me" you whispered "I could have saved her for him"

"(y/n), listen to me you are as much of his son as Jack is. He loves you just as much as he does Jack. And you're Jack's big brother, don't let that boy lose another family member" he whispered and the tears were flowing again "Haley loved you too, she didn't show it very well but she did. If you had been there Foyet would have killed you both"

You turned your head into his jacket and he stroked your hair.

"Spencer loves you too. You know that? The past few months he's been walking around with a boyish glee written all over his face. Relationships are hard you just have to put the work in. I love you, you're my nephew. The team loves you, especially Aaron. Aaron's who's sent everyone in opposite directions to find you when he realised that you weren't at home. Aaron who is probably pacing a hole in the floor worrying because he knows that he was in the wrong, he knew he should have stopped when he noticed that you weren't with him any more, when you where in your head nad only hearing part of what he was saying. Aaron that refused to leave his house incase you went home and there was no one there. Who sent Spencer to his apartment incase you went there. Who has Garcea constantly watching for any of your cards or movements to ping her systems. Who has Morgan, Prentiss and JJ patrolling the streets looking for any sign of you. Who sent me here hoping that maybe you'd come to this bench" Dave was panicking, you could hear it in his own voice, trying to get everything through your skull. You nodded slowly, Dave was picking up your broken pieces and showing you that they weren't broken at all, they had just come lose for a second. Then the shame flooded you. Shame of what you had been thinking about. It just made you cry harder, Dave basically carried you to his car tucking his jacket around your shoulders carefully when you had cried yourself to sleep. He sent out a mass text to the team informing them that he had you and that you were being taken to Aaron's for a long chat about your headspace, which sent cold shivers down both Aaron and Spencer's spines.

You woke up in your own bed with the headache from hell, you didn't want to go downstairs. Downstairs meant facing Aaron.

"Bite the bullet" you whispered to yourself and pulled on one of the sweaters you had stolen over the years ignoring the pain that shot through your ribs from sleeping in your binder. You snuck down the stairs, Jack was in the living room watching cartoons so you assumed Aaron was in the kitchen by the slightly clanking sounds floating through. He was cleaning up the worktops but stopped when he heard you pad into the room.

"I'm sorry" you whispered barely loud enough for him to hear. He was moving towards you and you briefly expected a slap but instead you were wrapped up in his arms and held onto like you would disappear if he let go.

"I was so worried" he whispered in your ear "And I'm so sorry I should have been paying attention to you instead of yelling. I'm so sorry (y/n)"

You clung to him as sobs tore through you, your fingers digging into his back as your knees buckled sending you both to the floor. Aaron was leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen with you wrapped around him. He didn't press he just let you cry into his chest. Jack must've poked his head in to see what the commotion was because Aaron's voice rumbled in his chest under your ear. You tried to apologise again but he was shushing you gently.

"I want you to talk to someone, it can be me or Reid or Dave or someone outside completely. Just someone that can help you, you're not OK and I should have seen it sooner." he said and you agreed. You spoke to him eventually but you ended up going to the beauros own psychiatrist to talk. Maybe it was time. Time to put ghosts to rest.

Aaron had arranged it for you and you had gone willingly then next day still having not spoken to Spencer. Until you bumped into him walking through the corridors after your appointment, his hand wrapped around your arm to steady you.

"Hi" he whispered.

"Hi" you whispered back reminiscent of your first date with him "Spencer, I'm sorry"

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed, if you want to keep living with Hotch that's ok" he said resting his hand on your jaw. You leaned into the touch.

"I'm done hiding" you said turning to kiss his palm. He smiled softly "I'll tell you everything over coffee?"

He took your hand in his own and lead you back down the corridor, prattling about a coffee shop that you would love. You let him.

Aaron and Dave were looking at the file the psychiatrist had dropped on Aaron's desk.

"This feels like the biggest invasion of privacy ever" Aaron grumbled with his arms crossed and Dave agreed.

"We can't help if we don't know what's going on" Dave pointed out and got a resigned look in return. "I'll read it therfore you don't have a guilty conscious"

"Still feels wrong" Aaron pointed out but allowed Dave to read it anyways.

"We know his name, age blah blah blah" Dave started flipping through the pages "Agent (l/n) has taken on the personal blame of the murder of Agent Hotchner ex wife Haley Brooks. (l/n) stated that he should have been home at the time and that Agent Hotchner also thought he was there at the time but in fact had been 45 minutes away on campus getting extra help on a thesis paper. He was aware of the dangers posed by George Foyet however insisted on not changing anything about his life. (l/n) clearly stated that he feels as though he could have saved her had he been home, where he was supposed to be and that it is his fault 'The love of Aaron's life is gone and that Jack doesn't have a mom'. He also informed us that he had also been on the phone when Haley Hotchner was murdered however the call was not terminated at the same time as Agent Hotchner and had let it be known that he did indeed hear her take her last breathes and still does to this day. Agent (l/n) also let himself into the property afterwards to hunt for a stuffed toy for Jack Hotchner but admitted that he went to the room were Haley Hotchner was murdered"

"He told us the toy had been in his car. He didn't say he went back to the house" Aaron breathed, he didn't know whether or not to bring it up to you. You had planned to go see Haley with Jack that evening and Aaron wondered if he should go too.

And life continued again, you saw a shrink every few weeks, cases allowing. Aaron had started dating which allowed you a Spencer more time alone at your place instead of his. Which is how you ended up watching Jack while Aaron went out with Beth, not that you minded. Jack was asleep leaving you and Spencer on the sofa with a movie playing lowly in the background. Spencer's hips bucking into yours when your fingers dipped under his shirt while your tongues tangled. You were working his shirt over his head while trailing kisses down the column of his throat coaxing whines out of him as you did so. In doing so you never heard the front door open or the two voices coming towards you.

"If that shirt goes any further up Reid's body I will personally shoot you both" Aaron's voice cut through your current task, Spencer yelped and pulled his shirt back down before hiding his face in your arm, you shimmied back cause Spencer to try stifle a groan.

"Let the kids be kids Aaron" Beth said kissing Aaron's cheek, he huffed as you climbed off of Spencer.

"Is good to see you Beth" you greeted "I'd give you a kiss on the cheek but Spencer will start a lecture about germs and I'm really not feeling it tonight"

She kissed you on the cheek instead and you hauled Spencer to his feet. Guiding the shocked and mortified doctor up the stairs to your bedroom.

"Remember Jack's in bed" Aaron called up after you but you just continued pushing your boyfriend forward.

"Hotch heard me whine" he whispered with wide eyes and you laughed "I was almost begging. My boss almost heard me begging" you laughed even harder and knocked him onto your mattress straddling his hips once more.

"He'll hear you screaming in a minute too" you breathed against his ear and Spencer's face turned scarlet. Life was good.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #Trans male reader

[stonefreeak]

My goodness people, I’m so sorry for the delay! I’ve been working on the structuring of my files to get a better overview of what remains of the project, to hopefully be able to speed writing up (even as work really means that my free-time is much more limited than it was once upon a time, lmao. Sometimes I miss December of 2016 when this whole thing started, 33k in a month of updates, amirite?)

it’s taken me so long I’m wondering if anyone even remember this plot point at this point, lmao

Also: belated happy midsummers to all my fellow Swedes!

Bail taps his finger against this desk and stairs unseeingly at the datapad in front of him.

He hadn't been sure if the information Aleena Yashi gave him, though she's worked as an assistant to multiple senators over the years, was true. But everything checks out. He briefly wondered why she would come to him about it, rather than Senator Lobos who she's currently working for... But perhaps it's because he's known to have a favourable view of the Jedi that she's done so. Perhaps it's because all of this information mostly pertains to the Jedi and the laws surrounding them, and she wanted a prominent Senator who she could trust not to hide the information away because they don't care for the Jedi.

Bail, a Core World Senator well known for his good relationship with the Jedi and friendship with the current Supreme Chancellor, must have seemed like the best option for her. He wonders who else would have been on her list, before she settled on him, but he chose not to ask when she visited him. Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know; it hardly matters now anyway.

He looks down at the datapad again and considers his options.

He should probably discuss her findings with her, and see what exactly her goal is. If he's to do something about this, then he wants her involved even as he gathers support from other senators.

He has no doubt that Padmé will agree to add her support to Bail to help sort this mess out, but considering that they've both been involved with the investigation they're conducting into Jedi missions being altered... Well, Bail wants more Senators involved this time. Just to ensure that it cannot be taken as some form of conspiracy in favour of the Jedi. As ridiculous as that notion seems, Bail is not blind to the way many Senators look at the Jedi, nor to the fact that many of them don't seem to believe that they're really capable of what they say they are.

Few people besides the Jedi truly believe in the Force, after all.

Few people could believe in something they cannot know for themselves when others supposedly have a direct connection to it. Bail is one of the few who does believe them, he's seen what the Jedi can do first-hand. There's nothing else that can account for that kind of power besides this Force they talk of. They and other groups out there, it’s not only the Jedi, after all.

Besides, he knows many of them personally, and while Bail may not understand or follow all of their beliefs or traditions, he also knows that they're not a bunch of charlatans faking it for power of money—though he knows some of his fellow senators believe that to be the case. Even senators on Coruscant, who've seen Jedi in real life, seem to believe them little more than myth.

Bail has been kept up to date on the investigation into the Jedi missions, though he’s not taking an active role in it right now, and he’s certain that he has been kept in the loop to give legitimacy to the investigation. Give it a proper paper trail, even if it’s done with the Senate’s highest level of security. A strictly need-to-know basis, and until it’s finished, no one else needs to know.

Of course, Bail asked Obi-Wan in private if he would be allowed to tell Breha. As his Queen and the leader of Bail’s planet, he found it important to clue her in on it. Besides, it’s another step of legitimacy. After all, if Breha takes an active stance on it, then so does Alderaan.

If anyone wants to accuse the investigation at a later date for being a sham… Well, they will need to accuse Alderaan of engaging in it in the first place. Bail isn’t stupid enough to think that it’s not one of the primary reasons Obi-Wan agreed with Bail’s request.

They’re friends, and Obi-Wan likes Breha, but this is not about being friends. This is about political allyship and keeping sensitive information on as tight a lock-down as they can until the time  to reveal it comes.

Besides, as worried as Bail has become with Miss Yashi’s information, it’s even worse when considered together with the altered Jedi missions and not in the least… Well, the war time propaganda. There's no point in shying away from what it is, and the ramifications it has.

Considering how most of the war time propaganda—Bail can acknowledge it for what it is, there truly is no point in trying to deny the facts—focuses almost exclusively on the clones and their efforts in the war, it's hardly strange that the general population neither know nor understand them.

Further considering the information that Bail has now confirmed to be real and accurate... He understands that the omission of the Jedi is entirely deliberate. If you want to discredit and undermine the Jedi, why would you ever speak of their accomplishments and sacrifices? You wouldn't, as that would bring public support to them.

Bail sighs and rolls his shoulders.

He needs to build a following, he cannot properly push this alone. But he also understands why Miss Yashi brought it to him alone, first. A Core World Senator is far harder to make "disappear" than a Twi'lek Senatorial aide, no matter how awful that is to say. Bail can't go missing, and any attempt on his life would have a bit more trouble hitting its mark.

That's not to say that it would be impossible for someone to assassinate him, which is of course why he'll make sure that Breha is entirely up to speed on everything.

All of it together... There is some form of conspiracy to discredit or perhaps even get rid of the Jedi; Bail is sure of it. But he cannot see to what end. What are they trying to achieve?

For what reason would anyone work to discredit the Jedi? What is the end goal to strive for? There’s no way for the politicians to dissolve the Jedi Order, they are not in that way under Senate control. They could, of course, remove all of their backing, forcing the Jedi to become free agents, certainly…

But for what purpose? It would leave the Republic without the Jedi as peacekeepers, for the Jedi would hardly remain to do diplomacy work for the Senate without its backing. After all, what would the point be? Without the Senate’s backing, the Jedi would have far less ability to do anything.

How could they negotiate treaties if the Senate won’t honour them?

They could, perhaps, be a neutral third party within discussions. But there’s no reason for anyone to listen to their input in such a case. It’s hard enough to get disagreeing parties to listen to external input when you come with powerful backing that could make you listen even if you refuse.

How could they function with no funding? They would need to work on commission, at which point only those who can afford their help can get it. That would be the opposite of an improvement.

To not even begin to talk about how few of them there are, how few of them there were even before the war. Their population is not even a hundredth of a percent of Alderaan’s population, and Alderaan is only a single planet within the tens of thousands of star systems that make up the Republic—nevermind the entire galaxy. There’s just not enough of them, and hasn’t that always been a problem even while they’re working under the Republic? Too few, spread too thin.

No, if the Jedi became free agents, their ability to affect change would be greatly diminished. Bail is quite certain they’d work on much smaller scales, still trying to do what they can for the galaxy, bit by bit. Working with smaller communities on planets and moons… If they even had the ability to find out about disputes that may need their help in the first place.

Losing the Jedi as peacekeepers isn’t a win for the Republic either, as the budget for the Jedi was already miniscule even before it started being diminished—as Miss Yashi’s discovery shows. It cannot be an attempt at cost saving, or an idea of improvement for the Republic. Needing to train their own diplomats and ensure that they have skilled enough guards… That would be more expensive and it would not be able to guarantee that these diplomats are neutral in conflicts.

The Jedi have no specific allegiances the way diplomats and even Senators have. Even the least corrupt Senator will still place their own planet and star system first. It is part of their role, after all.

So no, it cannot be something like that. Not unless the people slowly enacting this are horribly misguided and foolish. Not to mention, Bail knows most Senators would simply call for making away with the Jedi entirely, rather than this slow plan to undercut them.

No… There must be something else going on here, some other primary goal whoever is pulling these strings is looking out to do.

He’ll need to figure it out, no doubt, Bail concludes.

But beyond that, he also needs to build a base to help him bring this information he’s been given to the Senate’s attention. He is quite sure already who he should be looking towards first: Senator Ach’ki Mandai of Haa’ndu.

Who better to help him bring this to Senate attention than the Senator who ensured a Jedi now sits as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

#Supreme Chancellor Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #bail organa #update #my writing

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 5 "Pumpkin Patch" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

The theme was "Let Them Eat Cake," so my dad bought me this foreclosed McMansion down the street, and, like, 500 of my closest friends came dressed in 18th century attire, and, oh, the pool was filled with this, like, caviar slurry. And then at midnight, we just burnt the house down. When the firefighters came, they were actually strippers, and they put out the fire with champagne.

So walk me through this, honey.

Well, as you can see, every pumpkin in the patch is artisanal.

Then we move past the ice sculptures of demonic peeing cherubs, and yes, they will all be peeing vodka and Red Bull.

I'm sorry. Corn maze?

It's just that doing an exact replica maze from The Shining would have taken us way over budget on man power alone.

I told you money was no object.

Well, apparently, one of them died or something.

Do you have any idea what's at stake here?

Okay, well, it's not my fault that some guy died in the '70s.

I am tired of your sad-sack, I'm-a-total-downer-all-the-time schtick.

I'm over it!

Oh, my God, why are you so depressed?

Why do I have to be the homely one?

Just a second, nutbag.

God, do I have to spell it out for you?

You're a weird, psycho lunatic who's gonna end up in an asylum somewhere, staring at a wall, trying to nurse a watering can.

That's it! I can't take this anymore!

That is such a Mary Todd Lincoln thing to say.

You scream "I'm done with you" kind of a lot, and yet you're still standing here.

I think you know you have a good thing going.

You get to bask in my starlight as I do all the work and you get to grumble behind my back about how disrespected you are.

There's the door.

There's the door, bitch!

You did not deserve to be spoken to like that. Ever.

That is bollocks!

Clearly this fake kidnapping is a play to get the sympathy vote. So Gone Girl.

This is the biggest candle night of the year!

I hate you right now!

Halloween is the greatest night of the year. Greatest night. Because on this night, even kind of shy, kind of homely girls dress up like total sluts. I mean, every costume is just a slutty version of something. Slutty teacher, slutty nurse, slutty nun. I saw a girl last year dressed as slutty al-Qaeda!

See, Halloween it's a night for dudes with killer bods to walk around with our shirts off. And it's totally appropriate, as long as we call ourselves gladiators, Chippendales.

I have no idea how you got into this college.

Look, we'll just hang out and play charades!

This cannot be happening!

Hey, what about Black Hairy Tongue Disease? I mean, does nobody here care about Black Hairy Tongue?

What about my pumpkin patch?

I blame you for this.

[NAME], nice boobs.

Join me in saying you are not afraid!

Just baking some cookies for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

Uh, they're toenail cookies.

Pink fur coats worn in all weather, my idea. Flapper dresses made out of feathers, also my idea. Oversized sunglasses worn everywhere, my idea, my idea, my idea!

So why are you baking toenail cookies and giving them to children?

Okay, whose side are you on?

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I'm what you call

a "switch-hitter."

Wait, are you bisexual? Because that's what "switch-hitter" means.

Do you mean "double agent"?

What are you writing?

Do you know how big Halloween is in the candle community?

Is this an ant farm?

There's a mom ant, Deborah, who mostly just lies around and she has about 100 husband ants, who come around and give it to her good, which she really enjoys. And then there's about a million sterile daughter ants who feed her and are her slaves. So, an ideal family.

She'd win. And then I'd beg to be her second-in-command, while quietly pull the strings behind the scenes like Dick Cheney.

This plan involves a lot of circuitous logic.

Oh, my God! Those are, like, $100 each!

They're the highest quality candles that can be purchased retail.

What a brilliant and revolutionary idea.

Are you cheating?

This is a clear violation of the honor code.

You must be new here.

Who are you calling?

I'm gonna get you fired.

At least you wore something nice today.

Remember to smile for your mug shot.

I'm burping uncontrollably like Robert Durst.

They'll know I'm guilty!

I'm next in line and in charge here.

You can sum up my viewpoint on this with one word; indifference.

We are her only hope.

Sometimes, in order for a person to achieve their full potential, they have to do things on their own.

I am in charge here!

I love that you're a man.

This is the most sensual song ever written.

We need to do this right now!

I just saw her boobs.

Oh, a salad date is, it's like, it's more casual than dinner, but more formal than coffee.

Whose pants are these?

You know, you're a human being with feelings and needs, right?

Enough about me and my confusion and sad dead feeling inside.

It just really hurt my feelings.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my so-called friends are the ones that turned me in so I'm just feeling, like, super alone right now.

Man, I am your biggest Instagram fan!

I just think you are a style genius.

I will never be able to repay you for the kindness you've shown me in here.

Besties for life, I say.

Your bail's been posted.

I knew you'd bail me out.

Can I just say what a relief it is to be able to share it with somebody and not feel judged?

You know, I mean, all my girlfriends are like, "That's immoral." "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Ashamed? What the hell you got to be ashamed for?

You should be proud.

I could've lost my job.

I mean, it lasted, like, 45 seconds, and the whole time, it just felt like I was getting stabbed in the abdomen.

I tied him up and I kept my uniform on and proceeded

to read him his rights. My favorite being "You got the right to remain sexy."

Give me some!

You know he's sexy!

That was one of the best nights of my life.

Well, I've already contacted the police department, despite the fact that a person can't be considered "missing" until at least 72 hours has passed.

That's morbid.

I've already hired an investigator.

What, are you two a couple now?

What the hell are you doing?

You sold me down the river, bitch.

Wait, Gary Coleman's parents stole his kidneys?

I would never say that, because I'm pretty sure that never even happened.

Why does ratting me out sound like exactly something you would do?

You know, I've never thought of myself as a killer, but I am seriously considering ramming this pick into the back of your eye socket.

Maybe you'll get your head sawed off.

You have cameras in my room?

I have eyes everywhere, bitch.

The name of my future perfume is Revenge.

How is that something you just happen to know?

That is stupidest thing I've ever heard.

What's the password?

I just can't eat any more of these.

This ain't The Marriage Ref! This ain't Judge Joe Brown! We ain't on the Maury Show! We ain't standin' in line trying to get tickets to Dr. Phil! I am not Steve Harvey, people, and this ain't the Family Feud!

I'm tryin' to catch a killer.

Help me get the spy gear in the car!

How can you promise?

We're in a maze, you don't know where you're going!

I always knew it would come to this.

Why are we doing this right now?

I forgot the flashlights!

What am I supposed to do with this?

This is so creepy.

It smell like booty in here.

I'm getting a nervous feeling in my stomach.

I might start farting. If I cut some, you promise not to tell anyone?

Oh, my boob!

Stay where you are! I'll come and get you!

Ooh, this is nice.

It's really beautiful.

It looks like you just crossed some stuff out and wrote that in in marker.

Okay, can we talk about that for a second? Because it just happened a few hours ago, and I'm still really traumatized.

I need some cheering up right now.

Excuse me, darling, I'm exhausted.

Wait, we need to hear what happened to you.

Just wondering where you find a house with a pit. The market for them would be pretty limited.

Did you escape, or did you kill him?

I've always had a thing for bad boys.

That got way out of hand.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #scream queens

[iol247]

Opinionista • Ismail Lagardien • 15 March 2021

Fifteen years along the road to nowhere, and the worst is yet to come

We are at a point, now, where instead of pointing to the perversity of misguided distribution, corruption, theft, maladministration, tenderpreneurs, and State Capture, discussions are deflected – and the spectrum of opinion has been narrowed.

In 2015, Justice Malala published his book We Have Now Begun Our Descent. Without having read the book I sat down to consider South Africa’s future, and concluded that there was little to no hope for the country. I was in Bonn, Germany, at the time, after four or more years in the secretariat of the National Planning Commission. Although the Covid-19 pandemic has had a dreadful impact on South Africa’s political economy and society – as it has on almost every country in the world – the country’s problems took a turn for the worse at Nasrec at the end of 2017, and Malala’s “descent” gained momentum. 

I want to break with orthodoxy, and say that it is the politics, not “the economy,” as the old canard goes. Homo economicus might believe that the economy is everything, and everything is the economy, but “the economy” is those millions of transactions that humans make every minute of every day, and the personal and public political decisions that enable or disable those people (from making those transactions).

A collapse that preceded democracy

Before I continue, I want to share a passage I wrote between 1991 and 1993, when I was the southern African correspondent for the New Straits Times of Malaysia. I don’t have the exact date of publication, because the person who decided to make a “portfolio” of my work neatly trimmed my reports and columns but failed to include the date. I was going to save it for my memoir, but here it is – written at a time when the apartheid government was losing its grip on power and state institutions in the early 1990s:

“It is as if a villainous character had every day, over the years, gone to the Union Buildings, the seat of government in the capital, Pretoria, and methodologically and systematically undone every single screw, bolt, nut and nail of government. Every day, now, for months on end, a section of government in South Africa is coming apart. It is difficult, now, after a spate of scandalous exposes in recent months to say exactly when the disintegration first started, or when the first door, window or desk in the Union Buildings collapsed. What has become evident, however, is that the state is collapsing bit by bit, in slow motion, while its powers of rehabilitation [are] dissipating with its political might.”

It has been reported, over and again, that the democratic government inherited a state that was on its knees. As the Afrikaner historian Herman Giliomee wrote, a decade ago, March 1985 marked, “the day apartheid started dying”. 

Wrote Giliomee: “Pik Botha recalls: ‘I will never forget the night of July 31 when [Minister of Finance] Barend du Plessis phoned me… [He said]: ‘Pik, I must tell you that the country is facing inevitable bankruptcy … The process has started.’”

We had growth, and increased social spending, but the thieves saw opportunities

The first democratic government of South Africa, led by Nelson Mandela, was fully aware of the terrible state of the economy. They managed, within a decade or more, to provide utilities and access to public goods and services (including social grants) to millions of people across the country (all necessary for a stable, progressive social democracy), while managing the country’s finances, avoiding profligacy – and through it all, produced growth and a Budget surplus. 

This demonstrated that you can reduce poverty, provide social services, deliver public goods and services, as well as manage the country’s finances. The problem that emerged, after the first 12-15 years was not lack of growth, or a contraction of the economy, it was about distribution – much of the growth did, indeed go to social spending, but a lot more began to go into the wrong pockets. Corruption, maladministration, cronyism, nepotism and prebendalism took root – what good was the ANC-led state, if it did not line the pockets of its leaders, and members who were deployed to state agencies, and boards across the country?

Fast-forward to a few years later, and we are at a point, now, where instead of pointing to the perversity of misguided distribution, corruption, theft, maladministration, tenderpreneurs, and State Capture, discussions are deflected – and the spectrum of opinion has been narrowed. Somewhat simultaneously rose the politics of identity (the ugly version), and instead of policies focusing on social problems, they focused on contortions of language, the politics of revenge, populism, scapegoating, and the speeches and statements of leaders were increasingly laced with words like “bloodshed,” and all the while xenophobia, aimed mainly at Africans and Asians, has spread. 

A careful read of Carl Niehaus’s eight-page submission on likely policies of the ruling alliance, suggests we are expected to choose between Radical Economic Transformation by policy (ANC), or Radical Economic Transformation by force (EFF). At what point do the ANC’s radical forces join the EFF? Impossible, but not improbable. 

Are we there yet?

Let’s take stock, briefly, of where we are. We know that “the economy” is in the pits. But what makes an economy stable, expansive, progressive and able to secure social justice? Don’t ask an economist. To them it’s all cost-benefits, assumptions, laws and models which they mistake for truth. And anyway, people who are so sure of their own predictive powers belong on the beachfront with fortune tellers. What makes an economy work is everything else: the people, the institutions, the policies, ethics, food, water, shelter, clothing and, well, energy. If we start just with energy, consider the fact that we may have load shedding  for at least the next five years. 

This week, Eskom’s Chief Executive Officer, André de Ruyter, confirmed that “there will be a shortfall in supply of electricity of approximately 4,000 megawatts over the next five years as announced by President Cyril Ramaphosa. We welcome further interventions announced by the president, which will include a further request for proposals for a further 2,600 megawatts from wind and solar energy.” 

Using non-economic rationalist orthodoxy, us ordinary citizens know, intuitively, that you cannot run a shop, a workshop or any heavy industry without a stable source of electricity. We also know that you cannot get to work without commuter trains running. We also know that we place our lives in danger with every taxi ride. While us mere mortals don’t travel abroad much, if at all, we know that planes belong in the air; that the public broadcaster is meant to serve as, well, a public broadcaster; the police are meant to serve and protect; our military personnel should be able to march in straight lines, and its hardware has to be up to date (you can’t have stockpiles of ammunition that is outdated); along with the police and military, the state security system ought to make us sleep better at night, and criminals need to be prosecuted – even if they are among the highest office-bearers in the ruling alliance. 

A woman walking to work is not safe. A family sitting at home watching TV is not safe. A farmer working his or her fields is not safe. The driver stopping at a red light is not safe. Do we really expect someone to invest in an existing or new industry or fund innovation if a faction of the ruling party calls for “the mass nationalisation of industries including mines, insurance companies, steel and chemical companies”? The future of work is changing, but our major union leaders, supported by barbarous professors, want our workers to stay in the bondage of assembly lines – instead of retraining them for new, more innovative means of production.

All of these represent the life world of everyday people in South Africa. Every time anyone buys a loaf of bread or a bag of oranges they comprise “the economy”. Speaking of oranges, you can return the land to “its rightful owners” and (with the help of the former white owner) farm citrus products, but if individual oranges have a fungal disease you may not be able to export your produce. That’s not a racist conspiracy. (I use this one example because I have some insights into a related domestic issues case, and about the way the World Trade Organisation works.) 

This can go on and on if we can’t guarantee: the safety of investments; a reliable stream of energy; community and personal safety; trains that run; a reliable justice system – with judges who are unimpeachable; a postal service that is functional; public servants who do the jobs they’re paid to do; teachers who teach; nurses who are paid well, and don’t sign in for one another when they want to escape parts of night duty; and if we don’t play our part, as active citizens.

The government can build schools, but parents must make sure their children attend school, and show an interest in the child’s education. The government can provide trash cans, but people must use them. Visit downtown Johannesburg and you may get a sense of how filth has built up – it’s not quite at the levels of Naples, but give it time. While we hold the state and political parties to a high standard, we need to, also, report on citizens who refuse to pay or steal electricity and water, then cry foul if they are brought to book. That, is largely, the result of ANC promises. With another election in a couple of years, do we really think the ANC, or any political party is going to tell people to pay their electricity bills or get cut off? And so, it’s not “the economy” it’s everything we do, and say, every day, that makes the economy work. 

We may have started our descent, as Malala, wrote almost six years ago; my loss of hope has deepened – helped along by #statecapture revelations. But let me turn to the observations I made in the early 1990s, with regards to the National Party:

“What has become evident, however, is that the state is collapsing bit by bit, in slow motion, while its powers of rehabilitation [are] dissipating with its political might.” 

https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/opinionista/2021-03-15-fifteen-years-along-the-road-to-nowhere-and-the-worst-is-yet-to-come/

Submitted by TT

[honestgrins]

Pretty Good Bad Idea || Klaroline

As the CEO of admitted hellcorp Original, Klaus was used to professional criticism. Caroline, however, was really, really good at it.

.

The ballroom was full of people, animated and cheery with the holiday spirit. Original's annual corporate celebration grew more lavish by the year, thanks to Rebekah taking full advantage of the expanded budget she'd sweet talked out of the board. Well, she'd sweet talked Mikael, who strong-armed the rest of the members into compliance as a boon to employee morale.

Never mind the numerous proposals Klaus tried to implement in order to actually improve salaries and benefits, he thought bitterly to himself. Heaven forbid the board approve any of his initiatives, he was just the CEO. He should have known Mikael wouldn't allow him to wield any real power within the company; if anything, he was more constrained than ever under his step-father's thumb. Still, he was good at his job and they were all billionaires for it. 

He ran the highest valued company in the world, yet he was miserable at his own party. Somewhere, a very small violin was surely playing for him. Groaning at his own self-pity, he made his way to the bar. Whatever specialty cocktail Rebekah had the waiters passing around wasn't nearly strong enough for him.

Ordering a scotch, he leaned back to survey the room. His sister was coaxing her date onto the dance floor; his own date was chatting with his mother. He rolled his eyes at the sight. Clearly, Genevieve was getting too comfortable with imagining herself his girlfriend. If she thought ingratiating herself with Esther would improve her chances, she deserved whatever his mother threw her way. Intimidating the significant others of her children was a point of pride for her, until those that made it all the way to the altar met her complete approval.

Honestly, it was easier to avoid serious attachments altogether than face that kind of scrutiny. He sighed, wondering when Genevieve lost sight of their casual status.

Before he could text his assistant to send a breakup bouquet sometime during the next week, however, his gaze caught on Mikael and a woman hanging on his every word. She was dressed more simply than most of the guests, but her jumpsuit was sleek and well-fitted. Blonde curls gently fell down her back, red lips tilted up in a curious grin.

She was beautiful, and Klaus couldn't take his eyes off her.

But nothing could make him willingly approach Mikael, let alone in public with witnesses to what would surely be a hostile conversation at best. They mostly traded barbs via intermediaries, and their familial relationship had never been better. Her, though, he would have to maneuver an introduction to her. 

His moment came when Esther interrupted them to claim a dance with her husband, the younger woman demurring with a nod. No handshake - they must have known each other already. Interesting.

Left alone, she slipped toward the bar, and Klaus couldn't help a sly smirk that he hadn't needed to intercept her at all. Instead, she was walking straight toward him. He threw back the last remnants of his glass, turning to order a refill just before she stepped up next to him. "Can I get a ginger ale, please?"

The bartender quickly went about his business, but Klaus seized the chance of a briefly captive audience. "I don't believe we've met. Klaus Mikaelson," he greeted, offering his hand.

She seemed to be biting back a smile, shaking his hand like she was laughing at him. Eager to be let in on the joke, he was content to bide his time. "Caroline," she responded. "Caroline Forbes. I'm surprised. I was under the impression you don't enjoy company parties."

His eyes narrowed, wondering what tales Mikael had been telling. He had no desire to talk about him, however. "They have their upsides," he hedged. "You're here, for example."

"Charming," she laughed. The bartender finally slid over her drink, but to Klaus's triumph, she didn't move to rejoin the crowd. She watched him shrewdly while she sipped. "Do you flirt with all your employees?"

"You're not one of my employees."

Her expression turned skeptical. "You have hundreds of thousands of employees all over the world," she shot back. "I doubt you have them all memorized."

Klaus smirked from behind his glass, thoroughly enjoying the taste of victory. "It would take some studying and better context, but I'm better at knowing my team than most expect. That said, I do recognize your name, and not from the Original directory."

With a dejected sigh, she gave a rueful smile. "Damn that byline exposure."

"For good reason," he noted. "Your writing is particularly memorable, love. I think I have one of your articles hanging on my wall. 'Nepotism is Alive and Well: Another Mikaelson Assumes Role as Original CEO' was one of yours, wasn't it? I had a few headlines to choose from when I moved into the new office, but I liked the bite of that one." Honestly, he kept that one to remind himself that he ascended to the position despite Mikael's wishes; that others assumed Mikael tacitly endorsed his leadership was just a fringe benefit. "I wasn't aware Rebekah invited press to the party."

"She didn't," Caroline admitted. "My roommate is on your security team, though, and he brought me as his plus-one."

"Josh?"

"Enzo. San Francisco is an expensive city, and you have a habit of not paying your staff an adequate wage to live here."

He shrugged, feigning a lack of concern when he'd been arguing for exactly that to improve retention. It was more a ploy to keep employees loyal to him rather than Mikael, but he was still making the effort. "Yes, I'm sure you're the breadwinner, what, with your esteemed work at the local paper."

Her cold smile burned right through him, and he'd never been so delighted. "At least my pittance of a salary comes with integrity and a firm grasp of ethics. You should stop by our union meeting sometime, see what it looks like when workers actually have a say in their standards."

"My employees are free to petition their managers for a negotiation," he answered easily, enjoying her little, indignant huff.

"And your managers are trained to pass the petition up the ranks until it's nothing more than a bullet point on your morning memo, which you pass off to one of your directors without taking the terms into consideration."

Smirking, Klaus tipped his glass to her. "I assure you, my morning memo isn't listed in bullet points."

"That's not an answer," she insisted, her voice stern.

It only made his smirk deepen. "No, you'd have to talk to my media director for that. She's right over there, doing a poor rendition of the Macarena, I believe. Care to dance, love?"

Caroline rolled her eyes with a scoff. "You know, I also talked to Genevieve tonight. She actually introduced herself as your date, which is so sad that I can't even laugh about it. You should ask her to dance. You're not even worth the calories I burn talking to you."

Oh, how he wanted to change her mind about that. "Yet here you are, crashing my party. What's the story this time?"

Her jaw tightened as she seemed to consider her best course of action. He was pleased when she favored bluntness, a trait he ascribed to her natural personality. "Rumor has it you're trying to force your father out of the business. Any truth to that?"

The room might have frozen with him, not that he was paying it any attention. "For a journalist with integrity, you're putting an awful lot of trust in Mikael Mikaelson as a source," he bit out.

"I am a journalist with integrity," she replied in kind. "That's why I'm verifying the firsthand account of a very high profile source within the company. I can see he's paranoid and holding onto his chairmanship with a white-knuckled grip, and he has a history of twisting media attention to his favor. But then," she paused, watching him carefully. "So do you."

How else was I supposed to wrest the chief executive from him? he wanted to ask, but it would do no good to confirm her suspicion - not while Mikael was clearly making moves against him. Best the board as a whole didn't find a reason to remove him as CEO, and proving how well he manipulated them would surely create a motive to do so. "As I said, feel free to seek comment from my media director. Preferably during business hours, of course."

Her smile returned in full force, leaving him wary and completely taken. "Of course, sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mikaelson."

"Miss Forbes," he nodded. She brazenly held his stare for a long moment before she turned and strode away, the path she cut through the party holding his attention for far longer. That wouldn't be the last time they went head to head. 

He'd make sure of it.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #kcauweek2020 #day 4 #enemies to lovers #this is more about the enemies part but we all know where it leads #captive audience #fic: pretty good bad idea

[ravenwritesstuff]

Best Laid Plans (8/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Helsa, established Kristanna, Rapunzel/Eugene, lotsa frohana Rating: T for now, M later almost for sure A/N: I write what I want to write. Fuck. Someone take this away from me.

It had not exactly been World War Three, but it had not gone over lightly when Elsa realized exactly what Hans had managed to negotiate Rapunzel into allowing. Or not so much allowing as thinking it was the best idea - the only idea - Elsa’s idea - and that somehow she had authorized Rapunzel to clear Tuesday’s entire schedule.

Each appointment, call, and workflow had been reassigned to appropriate corresponding dates leaving the entire day clear for - well - him. What he wants, what his event calls for, and she more than slightly miffed that he still failed to truly explain just what his event - initiative - whatever - entails. 

But whatever the result - Elsa should have known better than to leave the trusting Rapunzel in the room with someone with the charisma and bravado of Hans Westergaard. 

Looking at the paperwork before her she is wondering just how much - well - bravado one man could have.

Staring at the zeros, written with Rapunzel’s trademark flair, on the intake form for the proposed budget is the only thing keeping Elsa from calling the entire thing off. 

That and the niggling curiosity in her chest that scares her as much as it intrigues her.

She is only just now starting to realize that it has been years since she really felt - well - anything. This has been by design, and she is entirely certain that it is a mistake to indulge this, but something in her just cannot walk away. 

Perhaps it is because she knows she is nearing the end of any kind of semblance of normal. That soon her life will be nothing more than phasing out of it between medical exams and palliative care. That when Anna gently presses her towards a different choice - though impossible - she secretly wishes for it. 

She looks at the forms, facts, and figures on her desk and wonders if somehow this is the silver lining in this entire thing.

Thirty-nine days. 

She has already started gradually removing herself from all main client contact roles, not wanting anyone to feel jilted if she needs to stop attending to their every call. Anna and even Rapunzel have stepped up to every other occasion, but this is her project. 

This one is on her. Well - that is if she is to get them to where the company needs to be before she - well - leaves. 

She pinches the bridge of her nose. 

Everything about this is wrong.

Everything about this is right.

Both realities cannot exist without shades of gray and it has been over a decade since she has thought in such muddied terms. Black and white is easier. It makes the inevitable easier to swallow. Things either are yes or no; up or down; simple or complicated; living or dying; but never both. 

That is, apparently, unless Hans Westergaard is involved. 

Her heart gives an unsettling, queer beat as she reviews the calendar and the schedule Rapunzel had built for them. She has read and re-read it for what feels like the eleventh time before she finally gives up.

No.

This will not be easy. This will not be ideal, but it will hopefully be what the company needs. 

She does not have time to give a second thought about what she needs. This is not the time or place. Especially when it is everything they have worked for. Especially when she will not be here much longer. 

She lets her damp head rest back against her very practical office chair and almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. She wonders if her condition is what is making her want to be reckless in this moment. The doctors had not mentioned that as a possibility, but then she is an anomaly.

She has already broken all the rules. 

Maybe that is why she has tried to follow them so strictly outside of her diagnosis. 

That is what one of her therapists had suggested anyway. She fired them before their third meeting. 

Or really she had just stopped going to prove a point.

She had ignored the calls from the office to reschedule missed appointments. She did not have time. She was not someone who was called to evolve into her highest self. She didn’t need to make peace with her diagnosis. It wouldn’t change it. So she chose to focus instead on what was right in front of her, on the here and now, while never really being in the moment. 

It is easier to ignore the inevitable if she doesn’t have it shoved in her face for an hour every week. 

She does not have time for that. She was not going to make it that far enough to make time for that.

So she moved on to a therapist who just listens, nods, and gives her what she needs for her nerves - her lack of sleep - her restlessness. 

She is not looking to be healed. She knows she is beyond that . Still: she opens her eyes and looks at the project before her and feels - for the first time in forever - a spark of something. 

She will never admit it, not even to herself, but the feeling in her chest is something all too similar to hope and she cannot have any of that. 

She pushes that sensation down and focuses on what she always has: the practical.

Like how in the hell is she supposed to prepare for a meeting she doesn’t want with a man she cannot afford to get close to when that is exactly what she must do?

She crosses her arms on the desk in front of her and plops her forehead down with a groan. 

She is going to regret this - already does. She supposes the only unanswered thing about this that matters is just how much she will regret this in the end.

….

She does not lose sleep over the event, the meeting. At least no more than she normally would before a big meeting. 

No.

She is too sensible for that (plus she took a sleeping pill at the absolute last minute before it would leave her sick and groggy the next day). She knows she needs to be sharp, well rested, and on high alert through this entire day. You don’t go into a battle without your wits fully in tact and she has been mentally girding herself ever since she gave Rapunzel the okay to send over the approval of terms and preliminary proposal with room for addendum. 

He sends back an address and a time, but not to Rapunzel’s email. He texts it to her personal phone again and Elsa is quickly realizing that fighting this particular part of this game will be a loss. She needs to laser focused on the battles that matter - the battle at hand. 

She is holding her armor tight as they all pull into the marina’s general parking lot in Anna’s car, trying to convince herself that her stomach is not in knots. Even though it is.

Her mind races with possibilities of what this day could entail, trying to plan for any outcome, but there are too many trajectories and not enough information. She can figure most likely scenarios but nothing so far has been most likely when it came to this entire situation so she must keep herself vigilant. She cannot let herself slip even a fraction of an inch or she knows she will regret it.

Mister Westergaard had told Rapunzel to clear the entire day - to make sure they came prepared for a day of sea and sun - and Elsa wasn’t quite sure how to take that. So she came in a sensible wrap dress in her traditional navy and flats. In her bag she also packed swim attire with a cover that could also double for any of her standard dresses. She is not taking any chances.

She had briefed her staff on the seriousness of this meeting - even though she did not need to. She knew they would exhibit absolute professionalism like they always did, but she also knows that Hans Westergaard is a different type of beast than their usual. Only the main staff comes: herself, Kristoff, Anna, Rapunzel, and Eugene. Pascal and Sven, interns, had stayed behind to man the office. Her trust in them was the only reason that she even considered leaving the office today with other projects on the line. She trusts them, but….

Still there were so many ways this could go wrong. 

Not because of her trust in them but more so the need to prove that she is not afraid of anything this Hans Westergaard can bring against her. 

She has the mounting dread of a feeling that she is not only building her own coffin, but nailing it shut.

Rapunzel could not elaborate on what may be considered appropriate for this all day meeting so she had the perky brunette call his contact number for clarification. He did not answer, but Elsa listened to the message  - but a single text from him to her personal phone (she really needs to get Rapunzel to stop giving out her personal number) gives her just enough foresight to warn them all to be prepared.

I hate spoiling surprises but come prepared to get wet.

He had texted with the address to the marina and a berth number. She had blushed at what she hoped was unintentional innuendo. 

In order to best serve you and keep your event professional please contact me on my office line only. 

She had replied with the contact that she knows he already has. But he had not used it and she has a feeling that he probably never will outside of that first call he made to her office, not when he knows where to find her in a way that feels just a little too close. A little too intimate. A little too raw. Just like that dance that never should have happen, never should have become two, never - 

She shakes her head, ears burning in embarrassment of how far she had let that go. She will not be making that mistake again. She can run this event, elevate her company, and stay unattached even if the butterflies in her stomach are working hard enough to lift her up off the ground at the moment. 

Her group does not seem to notice, however. Nor had any of them lifted an eyebrow when she had instructed them to dress expensive business casual but to also pack swim attire and accouterments. Perhaps it is because their destination includes the marina and a berth. She prefers to entertain that idea as opposed to the concept that they are placating her, giving her space, not asking questions because she seems fragile in any way. That is something she simply cannot abide. 

She should have had Rapunzel call, ask clarifying questions, taken control like she would have with any other client, but she had not. She had not and she is not prepared to follow through the logic that if she had failed to respond to this like she would for any other client that perhaps he is not just another - 

Elsa’s thoughts and steps slow as they approach their destination. 

She has been on boats. She has been on yachts. But if what she is looking at is the boat they will sail on that day - it takes everything within herself to not drop her jaw to the floor.

It does not look quite like any other ship she has seen. There are no sails or anything of the like, but there are three levels of windows curving along an immaculate white bough. The bow is almost needle shaped, long and contoured to an exact point beyond any cabin that gives it the looks of a swordfish, or dolphin, or any of those more majestic water bound creatures. The shape, the arch of the body, the way it rises from the water - it is exceptional from stem to stern. She can tell from the design that it is built to be large, and to show it.

This, she knows, is a ship built to impress people.

Did that mean Mister Westergaard was trying to impress them? Or maybe just intimidate.

Her sweaty palm tightens on the attache case containing their more formal documents, her heavy duty tablet.

She had finished them the day before after devoting the whole of her energy to them. She had them sent over by three but had not heard anything about the few gaps she needed filled before she felt comfortable moving forward formally. Perhaps he wants to negotiate in person. For the money he is willing to pay she is more than happy to go over everything in person, or at least she would be if he wasn’t completely capable of robbing her of almost every shred of common sense she possessed. 

But even if he had not signed anything yet, neither had she - her company. If this day proved too much, too disagreeable, there was nothing to keep up the facade.

Still she is sure that if she just focuses she can get what she needs from him and nothing else. The challenge of drawing up the proposition she had sent him, of rustling vendors and calling in favors, orchestrating a careful network of details and factors and creating the perfect documents for this event had given her a thrill. She knew he would not understand, appreciate, all it took to put together a proposal like this. How could he? He was a privileged son of a man of unimaginable wealth. He had no need to work, to strive, to fear. 

The initiative, or so he called it, seemed a pet project that the wealthy elite all had. His was ocean related and that made sense considering his love of sailing. Though Mister Westergaard had been short on details of exactly what this all entailed Elsa had still managed to come up with what she felt was a perfect framework for a successful soiree. It was fluid, adaptable, and when she got the rest of the details down in writing, allowing her to draw up the final paperwork  and followed by his signature… well. Just focusing on what that meant for her sister, their friends, the company was enough to put aside the tight braid of apprehension winding down her spine at the logistics of what that meant from a practical perspective. 

Once the ink dried that meant she would be bound to him for thirty eight days. Thirty eight days of closely working alongside him, communicating with him. If she is lucky he will be uninterested in attending vendor meetings, that he will trust her judgement and simply allow her to select what she feels is best as many of her clients do. After all - that is why they pay. They don't want to invest the time or effort into each minutia that came with an event of any size, but she thrived within it. Would she be able to do so with Hans Westergaard thrown into the mix?

But she'll think about that tomorrow. Right now all she can think about is putting one foot in front of the other until they are at the gangplank.

She isn’t sure when Anna comes up alongside her and loops an arm through hers, but she realizes it is there when Anna squeezes it with her own.

“You okay?” Her sister’s voice is low and Elsa gives a tense nod. 

“Of course,” she replies. “I’m - I’m just fine.” 

She stumbles a bit as Mister Westergaard appears at the top of the gangplank. He is in fitted khakis and boat shoes with a navy sweater pulled over a crisp collared shirt. His hair styled back with its natural wave and his smile broad as he waves them up from his place at the top of the long, metal-railed ramp. Anna’s grip tightens. 

“Come aboard!” He calls, keen green eyes flashing to each person in their party. Though she could not prove it she feels like his gaze lingers on her just a fraction longer than the others.

She quickly shakes the thought. 

Paranoia will not help her focus on her mission. 

She shrugs off Anna’s supporting arm. It will not do to seem like she needs help, that she is weak in any way. She pulls her shoulders up and back as she strides up the gangplank to meet their host.

“Mister Westergaard,” she crosses her attache case in front of her body, lasering into his gaze with more force than necessary. “Thank you for having us. We have many aspects of the event to cover. Should we get started?” 

His smile does not falter. 

“Of course we should,” he cradles her elbow (thankfully covered by the extra billowing length of her sleeve) to pivot her so the rest of her party can finish their ascent. “But first we need to attend the briefing from the crew. We will be pushing off soon.” 

He drops his touch as soon as he had started it, attention moving to Anna and the rest and leaving her flummoxed. Pushing off? She knows they are on a boat but that meant…

He continues without dropping a beat, addressing the whole of his guests. “We will be setting sail in the next ten minutes. The crew will brief you on the safety functions of the vessel on the aft.”

The group hesitates, at least slightly perplexed, and Elsa knows she is not the only one who not as apt at ship terminology as she might be. They weren’t the types to sail regularly, but Mister Westergaard seems to note his mistake with equal speed. His smile broadens as he gestures behind himself to the sleek walkway that edges the ship.

“You will have to excuse me. I’ve spent more time on ship than on land lately and developed certain habits. This way place,” and there is a silent, collective breath of relief at his gracious response.

Somewhere in the depth of her heart she cannot help but wonder if this was some sort of test that she had failed. Or if he had staged the entire thing to make himself seem like some sort of savior, like somehow he would deliver these Cretans to their designated location by his own benevolence and - 

“May I have the honor of escorting you?” he offers his arm and she flashes to the deeply slow stroll up the walk to the wedding venue. She remembers the heat of his touch, the conversation, and while she is not interested in actively offending him:

“The passageway is a bit narrow, don’t you think?” She keeps her tone professional, the butterflies in her stomach pressed down. “Why don’t you go ahead and lead us?”

His eyes flash and she is not quite sure what it means but he makes no moves to press the issue. Instead he lifts his gaze from her and addresses the entire group:

“Of course," his smile wolfish, like she just set the tone for the day - like he anticipated it. "This way. Follow me!”

They do.

Elsa lags a bit, letting Anna and Kristoff take the lead and falling back with Rapunzel and Eugene. In the middle of the pack she feels a bit more secure, a bit less like she is walking into a trap, but then he looks over his shoulder and winks at her and she is back to the wedding with sweating palms and shaking knees. 

She considers his smile, his heat, the curve of his brow and - no.

That was not why she was here. 

This is business, just business. She had made that clear, but as they reach where the walkway opens to a spectacular seating area complete with firepit all those zeroes on the proposal invoice she knows this is nothing like the business they have done up to this point. 

It doesn’t even feel like she is on a boat. 

There is plush furniture, all royal blue with stainless steel and arranged in a horseshoe that takes advantage of the ocean view. A marble and metal coffee table that she swears is as big as the kitchen in her studio apartment is decorated with a planter holding a dozen white iris in perfect bloom and a spread of finger foods that rival Tiana’s inventions. 

Her stomach cramps even as her mouth waters. She has hardly eaten, but given her inexperience on a boat she hardly thinks it prudent to indulge in case sea voyage doesn’t agree with her. 

She looks past the food and the seating arrangement she is certain they will fill briefly, out beyond the shadowed overhang of the upper deck they are beneath, and there are half a dozen white loungers surrounding a sunken pool. The railing alongside the ship falls off beyond the pool and at this angle she knows when they are at sea that it will seem as if the pool could continue right into the ocean, an endless pool of blue. 

The sight rattles something inside of her. The visual somehow mirrors an intangible understanding she has for what is about to happen. The idea that this may seem like it can go on forever but she knows that cannot be true. Nothing lasts forever.

Mister Westergaard ushers them to sit. She goes, noting the finely polished blonde wood planks beneath her feet. She positions herself at the end of one of the furniture pieces facing away from the unsettling infinity pool and looks up for her sister in hopes to have her sit beside her but she is not quick enough.

Mister Westergaard settles himself next to her just close enough to be disconcerting, but clearly with no room for anyone to sit between them. He isn’t touching, not even in the slightest. He doesn’t even look her way when he sits and that somehow makes it worse. His legs spread wide, his back straight as he leans forward onto his elbows as if he is ready to pounce on any unsuspecting passer, but not giving her the slightest attention.

She knows he is playing some sort of game, but he keeps changing the rules. She does not appreciate it and she pulls her case up onto her lap to insure the forced distance. Whatever he is playing she will not join. 

But she will set some rules of her own. 

She tries to not sit too straight, to lean too hard against her armrest away from him, to too obviously look anywhere but him as she takes in the surroundings. She tries to focus on the expectation that if this is the informal lounge area on his yacht just how lavish the expectations will be on this event. How there are only thirty eight days to pull off something even grander than this. How there cannot be any mistake. 

It simultaneously excites and terrifies her.

She thinks of all the connections this will yield, how it will catapult E&A Events into the stratosphere if they do it right. An event for people of this caliber is not a challenge to take on lightly but she knows she is up to the task. She is built for things like this, has set up E&A events for success long after she is gone if they decide to go on. This is simply the next step.  

Hans Westergaard is the next step.

It is easier to think of him in this way, so she does. 

Not more than a few seconds have passed since they say before a trim crew member appears from what she assumes to be a luxurious space inside, but is denied a glance by the reflective glass. The crewmember starts going through the basics of the ship’s safety protocol. Elsa remembers one of the few times she had been on a plane where the flight attendant had pointed with two fingers towards doors that Elsa hoped she would never use, but she had memorized every step regardless. 

It never hurt to be prepared.

As the crew demonstrates proper life vest procedures and what to do in case of some unprecedented catastrophe she feels him lean in closer. 

“If the ship went down, why do I feel like you wouldn’t flinch?” She can feel his breath tickling the shell of her ear.

She keeps her gaze focused on the crew, but turns just enough to send her words directly to him and not the rest of the group. “I won’t have to flinch. I’ll know what to do because I was able to pay attention to this presentation.”

He breathes a laugh. She feels it down her neck, entire body heating without objection. She doesn’t dare look to see if the others notice, if he is nearly as close as she thinks he may be. When he is silent for a moment she thinks that he might be done, that he has returned to an appropriate distance and she almost chances a glance. She is glad she does not because she feels it almost as much as she hears it:

“But what if you needed saving? Who would you want to come to your rescue?”

She is certain he is even closer than before now, the heat of his body bleeding into her side without even touching and she remembers what it is to touch him. She remembers how the very touch of him burns down her defenses, but what she hadn’t counted on were his words, the probing questions that always caught her off guard. 

Even though she hardly knows him she knows if she looks his way she will see that same heartfelt sincerity that has undone her from the start. 

She watches as a robotic crew member straps a lifesaver onto their chest. There is a flirtatious way to approach this, to stroke his ego, to make things go more smoothly but the stage has been set. She has no time to spare for such frivolity and honestly no idea how to even go about it. So instead she tightens her spine, pulls her jaw tight, and never once diverts her eyes towards him.

“I’m not the type that gets saved,” she speaks the language of strange half-truths she has grown accustomed to in her condition before letting the darkness bleed through. “I go down with the ship.”

She senses the change in him at that statement, the distance increasing between them even if he had not moved an inch, but there is no victory in it. There is only an all too familiar hollow feeling that she fights all too often.

Then, strangely despite the distance, she feels him closer still.

His shoulder touches hers and even through their respective clothes the heat of him creeps through. Her heart rate accelerates. She thought she had done her job but apparently… 

“I’d save you,” his voice is low, tight and tickling. “I’d save you if it was the last thing I did.” 

Her mouth goes dry at the conviction of his short speech, at the way her heart races at his words, but not because she is uncomfortable. No. It is worse than that. It is because she believes him - this near stranger. 

The crew member is saying something she is sure is important, but she cannot hear it. She cannot focus beyond her own breath filling her chest, rasping in her ear. She wants to trust those words, to lean into them, but she cannot. It would be unfair for them both. So with every last ounce of will that hadn’t been scorched by his proximity she musters her courage and:

“You cannot save me, Mister Westergaard.” 

The words taste bitter in her mouth without context, but she is certain the surprise she senses is real. 

It feels good to catch him off guard, to let him be off balance for once. She revels in it, but not for long.

He does not move a fraction. She would have felt it, known it, all of her senses heightened towards him. Still his next words break upon the shore of her mind with relentless regularity. 

“Hans,” there is something raw, low, in the way he speaks that nearly hurts. “My name is Hans, and when I save you that is what you will call me.”

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#Best Laid Plans #Helsa #IceBurns #Kristanna #eugene x rapunzel #Rapunzel #Euguene #frozen #Tangled #I like messed up shit okay #Raven Writes Stuff

[miyu-hyperfixates]

The Untamed and MDZS appreciation and recommendation post

Okay so fair warning to my small amount of followers, this blog will probably be full of MXTX contents starting from now, because I’ve fallen into MXTX’s hell and I don’t see myself climbing out any time soon.

I’m not even kidding in the span of three months, I’ve watched CQL (like 4 times), watched the special edition, watch the MDZS donghua, read the novel, read the manhua, read a fair amount of fics, discovered the SVSSS’s characters through a few crossover fanfics, started to read SVSSS, then TGCF (as well as their respective manhua up to the last translated chapters) and well generally immersed myself into the fandoms. And I LOVE it! And I have so, so many feelings and thoughts about the characters, the plots, the relationships, everything, that I don’t even know where to start! 

Okay so for those who don’t know what the hell I’ve talking about. MXTX stands for Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù who is the author of three amazing novels: Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS) [also called Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation], The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (SVSSS) and Tian Guan Ci Fu (TGCF) [Heaven Official’s Blessing]. The Untamed or Chen Qing Ling (CQL) is the chinese drama adaptation of her most well known (as of now) novel MDZS.

I am going to talk about CQL/The Untamed and MDZS (novel version) in this post... But it will probably be followed by posts about TGCF and SVSSS too.

I’ve tried to be pretty vague on several points so that should keep the spoilers at minimum, in case you didn’t watch CQL yet.

[More under the cut] 

Okay so as someone of Asian descent who was born and raised in an European country and spent her formative years watching wuxia and xianxia, The Untamed/CQL is the kind of representation that I really didn’t know I needed and I am so, so glad that I gave it a chance. (Big, big thanks to @shit-happens-bitchachos for reblogging so much CQL contents that the frequent presence of it on my dash got me curious  enough to start watching it).

Watching The Untamed for the first time feels like coming back to a home that you once thought would be frigid but actually became very warm and welcoming without you noticing because you have been away for so long. And it feels both nostalgic and new, in the best possible way. It’s a wonderful feeling, really. 

Where to find it?

You can watch the drama english sub version on Netflix, Viki or Youtube, just typed “The Untamed” and you should find the episodes easily.

To be honest, though I am very thankful for the existence of such platform, I have a slight [read huge] dislike of Netflix’s choice of translation for any Asian movie/tv shows. I mean I’m not going to go off on a debate about official translation vs fan translation, nor westernization and how doing so not only take off a huge layer of subtle/or not so subtle communication but also participate to erase part of the culture. [Because I have opinions about this and I am still very much so cringing about all the “Yanli”s, it is really not the point I’m trying to make right now. ]

So out of the three version, I’d lean more on the Viki version. To be clear though this choice isn’t based on the accuracy of the translation, but strictly on the choice of naming and title convention.

As for the novel, you can find  here a complete english translation made by the Exiled Rebels Scanlations group.

The plot

I’m not going to go into detail about the plot, because I’m sure a lot of people out there managed to do so in a way more articulate way that I ever could.

So basically CQL is about Wei Wuxian, aka the Yiling Patriarch. The Yiling Patriarch is like this huge urban legend that everyone warns their children about, except he actually existed. Why such a reputation? Well, in a Cultivation society where people used spiritual energy to fight and exorcise creatures full of resentful energy (such as ghost, ghouls and other things), the Yiling Patriarch is actually the guy who decided that he was going to use resentful energy to fight resentful energy. What he is doing is called “demonic cultivation” and if you want a western equivalent it would be quite close to using necromancy. And if you want an idea of how blasphemous such method of cultivation is deemed, it would be the equivalent of going to a Christian exorcist organization and yelling loud and clear to all the people there that you’re gonna desecrate the tombs of all holy people and use their corpses to fight ghost and other dark creatures.

So the legend/story of the Yiling Patriarch goes as follow: The Yiling Patriarch and his army of corpses were actually quite useful to turn over the tide of a war that shook the foundations of the Cultivation World, annihilating the strongest Sect of the five Great Cultivation Sects (that lorded over the cultivation society). But some time afterwards the Yiling Patriarch revealed his true colors, and killed more than 3000 cultivators (among them his elder sister and her husband - orphaning their one month old son) before finally ended up being killed by his own little brother.

And now sixteen (or thirteen in the novel) years later, Wei Wuxian’s soul got called back because of a dark ritual. The ritual involved giving up their own soul and offering their body to summon up the soul of a dead, evil, person. The soul summoned would have to accomplish the task the summoner wished for, or the soul would be forever destroyed without being able to ever reincarnate. And so, Wei Wuxian woke up in the body of Mo Xuanyu, a young man who was abused by his family and wished for revenge. While trying to work out what he is supposed to do, Wei Wuxian quickly realized that the Mo family is actually being targeted by fierce corpses that are acting way more aggressively than they should. Turns out that it was because of a possessed spirit sword [a cut out arm in the novel].

Afterwards he encounters Lan Wangji, an esteemed cultivator, one of the strongest of his generation, coming from one of the most righteous Cultivation Sect. And the thing is, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji appear to have quite a complicated history that dates back to their teenage years. And CQL/MDZS is not only about how they decided to investigate the mystery of the possessed sword/arm (which ended up digging up a lot of secrets and conspiracy ), but also about Wei Wuxian’s past, starting from when he was 15 and meeting Lan Wangji for the first time.

The few things that you’re probably going to feel/think while watching the few first episodes

Confusion I think I’m not even kidding when I say you’re supposed to be in a state of perpetual confusion for the first two episodes... There’s this huge info dump, in the first five minutes of episode 1, then you’ll have to navigate this new world feeling as confused as dead-for-sixteen years Wei Wuxian... You’ll meet dozens of characters and if you can’t remember their names or who they are it’s normal don’t worry. Each character has a birth name (Wei Ying, Lan Zhan) and a courtesy name that (Wuxian, Wangji)... And so if you see Wei Ying or Wei Wuxian just know that it refers to the same person. And to complicate things further some characters also have a title (Yiling Patriarch, Hanguang-Jun)  other people might use to refer to them. So really, if you want to understand what is going on, you might want to note the name, title and relationship down... But it’s kinda tedious?  I promise it is unnecessary as those characters will all be introduced properly in the flash-back starting at the end of episode 2, and you’ll fully be able to get used to them and keep track of them. Of course, if you managed to remember a few names, once the character is being introduced in the past, you’ll get a “ Oh so at some point, this is going to happen to them” sort foreshadowing/foreknowledge, which is neat, I guess. [I recommend going back to watch the first two episodes, once the flash-back is over, to fully grasp what was going on there].

What the hell am I even watching? Okay so this one might only just be me but I was pretty hooked by the story by episode 3... and then I reached episode 8 and 9 and I kid you not, I went “Oh boy... that’s.... yeah okay... *cover face with hands*”... So I was cringing pretty hard for those two episodes out of second-hand embarrassment at the extras actors acting level... Like woah... It was supposed to be scary and threatening and all but I couldn’t just take them seriously? (You’ll know what I’m talking about when you get there)... That with some plot points made me seriously consider stopping right there.... But thankfully I didn’t. So you really just need to pass the first two episodes [which are really good] and cringe your way through the two most abyssal episodes in the show (in my opinion) and everything will go smoothly afterwards.  Though to be fair, it might be explained by the fact that no one expected that CQL would have the highest number of reviews of Chinese drama, nor that it would be the highest earning drama of 2019 and certainly not that it would accumulate 8 billions views on Tennent by May 2020. Where am I going with this?  Well it was certainly no Game of thrones in terms of budget... That’s what I’m trying to say. It had a low budget production... and well in a fantasy world where everyone and their grandma use supernatural power to fight each other and demonic creatures, special effects are a must. Choices had had to be made [and while I am very thankful for the aspects they decided to use the money on] the special effects were very touch and go.

Okay but are they going to be together or is this another case of queerbaiting? So if what you’re asking is “will we ever get a kiss, a love confession or definite proof of their relationship?”. The very short answer is “No.” You’ll never see any of those on screen for the very simple and good reason that there are censorship laws in China regarding queer relationship on screen. “So it’s basically queerbaiting?” Again no. CQL was adapted from a BL chinese novel. In the novel there is absolutely no room for doubts that they are together. But because of the censorship the producer teams had to remove all definite and obvious proof of romance, but it also means that they had to be creative and anything in the subtext or subtle areas was a go. Like really they crammed more homoerotic text (like at this point is this even subtext) in the show than in all other kinds of adaptations (including the novel, where we get kissing, sex and eloping). It got the point that contrarily to the novel, donghua and manhua where the whole Cultivation world thought Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian and that they couldn’t stand each other,in the show everybody and their dogs knew that the two were very close.  Also, while I absolutely hate that those censor law exist and am very disappointed that such homophobic mentality still exist and that we won’t get a full adaptation and explicit of their love story, I must say that because of this my demisexual ass absolutely love the depiction of their love in the show. I mean, when you don’t have the “easy way out” of kissing and sex and so all to show that they is definitively romance material going on here... You have to get creative, you have to convey it with all other gestures... touching, gazing at each other and so on... And it creates such a soft but intense  and intimate environment around them...By the way I’m not trying to negate their sexual relationship in the novel (#LetWangxianFreelyExpressTheirSexualLives)... I’m just saying that I’m not sure the producing teams would have gotten to such a length in the show if they could just have adapted the explicit romance scenes. Now if somehow they’d had managed to keep the same level of intense subtext and be able to adapt the romance scenes too, that would have been the best, but well...

The reasons you should still absolutely watch/read it? 

The plot

The way all those character journeys and stories are interwoven in such a cohesive picture is nothing short of amazing. And the way that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji unravel events that happened more than a decade ago piece by piece [or rather body part by body part] is so very well done. And of course half way through, you think that you’ve got the full pictures, and you’re sort of gloating all the while because you see it coming from miles away and how can the cast be that stupid... And well you are not wrong. Watch out for the canary though.   The show chose to move a few things in term of timeline (character appearing and events happening way before they were supposed to... )... They also added a few original plot points in the past.... So as a results it feels slightly less cohesive and coherent than in the novel. Anyway I won’t go into details here because I’ve got this super long post planned where I’d detailed all the differences between the novel and the show and why some things worked in my opinion but not other. CQL and MDZS are what a properly balanced plot-driven and character-driven show/novel look like.

The relationships

Of course, Wangxian (Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji) should absolutely be mentioned. Because throughout the story in the past, you watch as young, wild, ingenious, thinking-out-of-box Wei Wuxian meet an equally young seemingly inflexible, impassive, following 3000+ rules in his daily lives Lan Wangji, you watch how their personality clashes before finally acknowledging each other skills, you watch how they hurt during the war, how quickly they had to grew up, you watch how one of them had to watch the other walking down a quickly crumbling path, being alienated by the world without being able to help, you watch how they lost each other, before finally finding each other again after sixteen/thirteen years. And then you can finally watch how soft they are with each other, how in-sync they are, the trust, the devotion, the willingness to stand by each other against the whole fucking world. And as I already mentioned before, because of the censure law in China, you’ll never can’t and will never get to see Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian say “I love you” to each other on the show. It still manages to convey “I love you” in every other possible way without having them actually say the words. I mean at this point it can’t even be considered subtext... It’s plain text written in bold underlined font that can be read in every single one of their interactions, and sometimes even when the other isn't even there, [It's basically subtitles! Hah! Okay getting out of there].

It helps that the chemistry between the two actors is absolutely mind-blowing. And the acting is nothing short of amazing. If you’ve been in the spn fandom then you might know that Jensen is king of the micro-expressions ... well I’m afraid that he has been dethroned by Wang Yibo (Lan Wangji’s actor) in my mind.

But really, wangxian is not the only relationship worth mentioning in CQL/MDZS. One of the other huge highlight in my opinion is the several siblings dynamics. There are about seven sets of siblings among the whole cast and because shitty, shittier and shittiest parents were apparently the norm for their generation, we get to see the trope of “eldest child basically raised their younger siblings” in five different flavors. Of course the main focus is on Wei Wuxian and his siblings, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t see the sheer care and protectiveness oozing out of the other four sets of siblings. As someone who loves family bonding (and especially found families), I really appreciate the fact that among those sets of siblings, there are some that are related by blood, some who are half-siblings and some who are not related biologically but consider themselves siblings regardless. And while all their relationships are different - because they are different people - they all do share the same love for their siblings.  “How far are you willing to go for your siblings?” “How much are you ready to sacrifice for them?” The show answers those two questions in various all throughout the story in a more or less oblique way, and right there lies the motivation behind a lot of the characters’ actions, good or bad. Their relationship with their siblings is actually one of the major driving force of the characters (Wei Wuxian among them). And I love it, because it shows that love comes in a many, many forms.

  The overarching themes

“What’s right, what’s wrong? Who’s good, who’s evil? Who’s strong, who’s weak?”

In such an elitist society who will judge you at the drop of a hat (especially if you have the bad taste of coming from a more unfortunate lineage), how can you define the difference between “right” and “wrong”? Wherein the midst and the aftermath of a blood thirsty war, the distinction between “good” and “evil” more often than only lies on where you were born and/or your family name rather than where you actually stood or what you did in the war. This right here is the very huge underlying theme that is being woven throughout the show/novel. Not only are we, the viewer/reader, invited to think/judge for ourselves based on the actions of the characters... But our main character, Wei Wuxian verbalizes those doubts and questions explicitly a few times and implicitly in the stand and choices that he decided to take. And due to Wei Wuxian’s influence, Lan Wangji who is used to follow his 3000+ rules on a daily life basis without ever questioning them, starts to do so. (“Do not befriend evil.”, “Be righteous.” )  What does it mean to be righteous? Must the notion of righteousness always align with general opinion? How do you define the ‘evil’ that you are not supposed to befriend? Is my definition the same as yours? Is my definition the same as the rest of the world? And if it is not the case, does it necessarily means that I’m in the wrong?  And the very obvious answer to those questions is “No, there is no visible line between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ or ‘evil’... Nor is there any universally agreed on way to act in order to fit in one category or the other...” And this answer is illustrated in all the ways those numerous characters are depicted: their love, their hatred, their fear, their pain, their joys, their tears, their motivations, their frustrations, their shortcomings, their hidden or not so hidden agenda, their flaws... All of them are depicted in such an awesome and wholesome human way.  They are not fully good or fully bad, they are human, with all that it entails... Main characters and main villains included (or rather, I’d say especially them) [Though the show tended smooth and cover this aspect a little bit more than the novel in my opinion]  

“Don't you understand? When you’re standing on their side, you’re the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. But the second your voice differs from theirs, you’ve lost your mind, you’ve ignored morality, you’ve walked the crooked path.” (Jiang Cheng)

Another theme that is strongly address here is the matter of “Public Opinion”. Despite (or rather because of) how fickle it is, public opinion, rumors (no matter how unfounded) could so easily ruins your reputation, your standing. And if you loose their favors than all your previous actions (no matter how praised it had been in the past) would be seen with a blackened lens. I remember feeling as frustrated as Wei Wuxian at the lack of logic, the rhetoric employed and the sheer hypocrisy that had been portrayed by the mass. I think that there is one character that can be easily recognized as the pure personification of “Public Opinion”, he is without a doubt meant to be the “voice of the mass, of the bystanders whose opinions shouldn’t really matter but actually does a lot”. I won’t tell who it is, it’s pretty obvious if you watch the show... And I think that we are meant to feel annoyed at such characters. I think we are meant to be as frustrated as that one character who at a mass gathering tried to make a stand, tried to do the right thing, but was quickly shut down with dubious rhetoric and blatant disregard because their voice didn’t carry enough power. And last but not least, the show/novel broaches the issue of how social standing is considered very, very much dependent on your circumstance of birth. Like I said before the cultivation world in CQL/MDZS is inherently elitist. In order to be able to cultivate you must learn the proper techniques and at a quite young age. But it is not something that you could do on your own unless you’re some kind of genius or prodigy. Which means that you must attract the attention of a nearby sects or begs them to take you in as a disciple. It means though that you’ll probably start a little later than the disciples that were born directly within the sect [inner disciples], meaning you’ll probably end being weaker. However even if by some truly dedication and perseverance you manage to the same level as the inner disciples, you’ll still only be seen as an outer disciples, nothing more than cannon fodder in the eyes of society. In all the major sects, there is a distinctive mark, objects that only disciples coming from the sect family line are allowed to carry, as an irrevocable sign of their high standing in society and their inherent privileges. There are some exceptional circumstances though where someone of low birth status might reach this elitist sphere. But no matter how high they reach, how outstanding they are, in some way they will always be reminded (sometimes behind their backs, sometimes subtly, sometimes right in their face) of the stigma of their birth. There are three characters in particular, whose journeys mirror and foil each other a lot.   And I think it is very interesting to see this “son of a prostitute” or “son of a servant” or “street rat” or “bastard” advanced through society. They all received very different upbringings, despite all starting more or less at a low point. And I liked that the way they decided to live later on and how they tackle/handle the cultivation world  is very much reflected and influenced by their upbringings rather than the circumstances of their birth. It brings up this very strong message that, if they are the way they are it is not because of who their parents are, but rather how the people around them reacted to them. The way they are right now is not the fruit of their birth but a direct consequences of the rejection/acceptance of society. And so when you look at them, you can’t help but see their journeys as a three forking road paths reflecting the other like twisted mirrors. You look at their actions now, then back their different circumstances and you can’t help but think “Ah, that is what might happened if things were different.” [There is a reason that canon-divergence and time travel fix-it are my favorite tropes... my bias is really showing here... haha] And it really, really hammers on the importance of kindness in the face of misery and discrimination. Kindness  and acceptance at the right moment, no matter how small can change everything. Sometimes, something even as small as a candy.  

The movie sets and props So I mentioned before that the budget of CQL really wasn’t that high and they had to make choices. And I could only applaud their choices, because really, wah! Just look at the main sects locations, the scenery, the backgrounds. It’s so beautiful!! [Had I had any gifing talent I would have included them so that you could get the full mind-blowing experience... so I’ll just send you to @gusucloud​ blog, where all the gifs and edits are amazing, (Cloud Recesses here and Lotus Pier here) and in this post  have my lame-ass screenshots instead.]

The fine details, the workmanship in most of the props in the background, the swords!!! *Incoherent flailing*

[I didn’t manage to get any close-up of the swords... but believe me, they are piece of arts!]

The music

The soundtrack of the show is absolutely amazing and beautiful.

You know how in movies and tv shows couples always seem to have “a song”... like “Oh! Look our song is playing!”... Weeeeeell...

Wangxian do too and it’s literally their song, as in their actors are singing it. You can of course hear it in the ending, but... but! I think the way it was used within the episode was very striking. It’s one of the many ways the producer teams managed to convey the romantic aspect of their relationship. And it was very well done.

Wuji, by Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo

Wuji, instrumental piano + flute + Zither version

Just imagine, dude just resurrected from his 16 years of deadness and you see him moping at night by playing this beautiful tune with a freaking leaf... just because he saw some cultivators wearing the same uniform as Lan Wangji... So at this point you know that this song might means something but well, you don’t really get it...

The second time you hear this tune, we are on a mountain, and it’s through a bamboo flute that Wei Wuxian used to appease and calm down an agitated corpse [who he apparently knows]... He is luring ‘it’ out to a safe place, so he is playing the song while slowly moving back one step at a time. Then his back suddenly bumps into someone... This person catches his hand. The flute playing abruptly stops and the full instrumental version with piano+flute is suddenly blaring out in the background. And then it’s as if the whole world stops as they gaze at each other, while the music keeps playing. And really, you might fully understand the weight of their gazes, or their history, but you know that it’s there... That’s the moment where you look at them looking at each other, grasping at each other wrist, where you can still hear their song in the background... and can only go “Oh. Oh.”  [Then of course a purple ball of pure anger just had to come and interrupt them. Excuse you, they were quickly having a moment there. Kidding aside, It was such a nice scene, it’s hand down one of my favorite scene of the whole show, and the music played a really huge part in my opinion.]

And if it wasn’t enough to hammer it down. The third times will definitively do it. So both of them are fifteen years and meet each other for the first time, when Wei Wuxian goes to study at Lan Wangji’s sect. Of course there first impression of each other is disastrous, what’s with Wei Wuxian insisting to come inside despite having lost his invitation and Lan Wangji clearly stating that no one is allowed without invitation. Of course it doesn’t help that after running back to fetch his lost invitation, Wei Wuxian snuck in after curfew (breaking a protective ward on his way), while smuggling two jar of alcohol. All of the above are forbidden in Cloud Recess, by the way. So our boy just casually broke three rules and then who catch him, right when he is climbing over the wall? Lan Wangji, who’s on patrol, of course. [Like I said, disastrous first impression]...And so after frostily listing all the rules Wei Wuxian broke not even five minutes in , Lan Wangji tries to bring Wei Wuxian to be disciplined. Wei Wuxian, of fucking course, resists. And the two proceed to fight (sword and all).

Cue their song playing as they cross swords on the rooftop of Cloud recesses, under the light of a full moon night.

If that is not a meet-cute I don’t know what it is.

Anyway this song is played many, many more times in the show and I’m not talking about them because I don’t want to spoil anyone.

Also as an aside, they don’t appear in the show... But there are character songs that have been recorded. Some of them sung by the actual actors and other not. And while all of them are really good, if there is absolutely one that you must listen to, it’s “Bu Wang” by Wang Yibo the actor of Lan Wangji.  Make sure to watch the official MV only after watching the whole show (because it’s spoilery) and to activate the cc for the lyrics translation. It’s such a beautiful and painful song; and a very insightful reflection of Lan Wangji’s character.  I love it.

Lan Sizhui and A-Yuan

No argument or explanation needed, you’ll see when you get there. I dare you not to like those small fluffy cinnamon rolls! 

The Junior Quartet

Okay those ducklings deserve a whole sub-section on their own. Not only because they are all amazing kids but because of what they represent.  

What is really great here is that since the story takes place over the span of 16/13 years, you get to see three different generations at various stage of their development. In the past you get to see the parents generation at their sum-up while there child, the following generation [Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji etc] from their teenage years to young adulthood. Then in the present you see the teenagers reaching the age their parents were (more or less, probably slightly younger) and the next generation (the ducklings) about the same age as Wei Wuxian’s generation were at the beginning. And the juxtaposition between the two pictures is just so, so very telling because the differences are glaring.

I’m going to borrow the words from qrbat who wrote this wonderful fanfiction, “tell some storm” on ao3.

The parents generation was a generation of Pride and Greed, it was a generation that lauded standing your ground no matter what and refusing outsider help. They were the generation which raised their children as a “generation of War”. A war that they started and that their children, teenagers, had to fight and end for them. And in comparison the junior generation seems so unexperienced so soft... and that’s a good thing, because it means that those children hadn’t had to experience the hardship of war, hadn’t had to grow up so fast because they basically didn’t have any decent parental figures to help them. Instead of perpetuating the cycle of hate and war started by their elders, the generation of War raised the next generation as a generation of peace, as a “generation of Love” and acceptance.

And it is amazing because the juniors, simply by being who they are, are embodying  this  message from Wei Wuxian’s generations to their parents “See? This is what it means to parent. I had to sacrifice my childhood and innocence to fight your war and I still managed to raise such amazing and kind children, what was your freaking excuse? I will not be like you. Times are changing and they are changing for the better.”

.

.

*Look at length of the post* *snort* Right. Okay, would you believe me, if I told you that in the beginning this post was supposed to be an appreciation post for all three of MXTX’s works and not just MDZS because I was afraid it would be too short? Yup so turned out I had a lot more things to say than I thought.  Please feel free to react or just message me about anything MXTX’s fandom related... I am desperately in need of friends to discuss with about MXTX’s stuff!   

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs appreciation #cql #cql appreciation #the untamed #mxtx #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mine

[dentistnewwestlong-blog]

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[khaelisfics]

Classroom War - Chapter 2

Paring: John Smith x Rose Tyler Chapter: 2/? Rating: T Word count: 1900 Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, University AU

Read on AO3

Tagging @doctorroseprompts and @timepetalscollective for the second chapter of this University AU!

He grinned proudly as he tore the cardboard of the parcel he had received on his desk, taking out a heavy book he had ordered. He had spent his own money on something he would never use, just for the sake of retaliation - and because he couldn't wait to see her furious face again. The motivation was clear. Get his revenge for that cheap short she had aimed at him the week before. It was simple, efficient, and not evil enough to risk much more than a glare and another fit of anger. Oh, he couldn't wait.

He tucked his book under his arm and walked out of his office, unable to wipe the smug smile from his features. You’ll get your stupid book, he thought as he walked into one of the humanities corridors that sprouted from the mail hall, greeting a few of his own students on the way. He had never been to her office before - not for lack of interest, because he had wanted to visit her for two years, but for lack of any precise reason that would leave her wondering why he had even bothered when they had a phone and emails. Phone and emails had this one disadvantage he couldn't see her, skirt and high heels and tight blouse, but well. He always managed to find a good spot at the canteen to make up for all those times he didn’t visit her - namely, that one table behind the plastic plant that shielded him from her, but from where he had a very good view of her legs under the table.

He knocked on her door, grinned even brighter when she answered, and stepped into her office with the firm intention to thoroughly enjoy her rage. He was momentarily struck by the size of the office, less than half the size of his, and he realized a lighter budget was not the only bad thing about the humanities. Especially since, being the literary person that she was, piles and piles of books were stacked against the walls, precarious towers that would all tumble down if she picked but one of them.

She was wearing that light pink blouse that day, one of his favourite, and he was disappointed he couldn't see what skirt she had paired it with. No. He wasn't there to watch her legs. Revenge, he remembered.

“Doctor Smith, what can I do for you?” she greeted with a smile, taking off the black glasses perched on the bridge of her nose - he would have liked to tell her to leave them on, because he didn’t think he had seen anything sexier in his whole life, but he managed to keep that thought for himself.

“Doctor Tyler,” he nodded, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel. “I got you a little something I thought you might like. Remember that book we, er, argued about last week?”

“Yeah, I do, thanks for reminding me,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair, tucking a temple of her glasses in her cleavage. “So?”

“Well, I kinda felt bad, you know, I got this brand new, amazing centrifuge and you’re left with nothing,” he said - he made sure to sound falsely saddened and offered an ironic smile of compassion. “So, I got you the book.”

“Did you?”

He nodded with a grin, the delighted flutters of thrill blooming in his stomach at her surprise and immediate softening. Oh, she really wanted that book. And she was genuinely happy he had bought it. It made it even better. The downfall would be rough.

“Here it is, new edition and all,” he said, letting the book plop down on the desk, putting its title on prominent display. “Cost me fifty quids, but well, I’ve got a centrifuge worth a few thousands so I thought… You know, consolation prize.”

“It’s in French,” she noted with a frown as she flipped through the pages. “All in French.”

“Oh, is it?”

He faked an outraged gasp, and started to ramble about how it hadn't been made clear enough on the website, and how they would hear about it and he would get his money back because it was unacceptable to pay that much for a few pages in a wrong language. Of course, he was jubilating at her momentary perplexity, but on the inside only. Well, probably a bit on the outside too, because she raised an eyebrow and smiled, the kind of amused smile that had him observe her with a hint of suspicion. She wasn’t disillusioned, like he had hoped she’d be. She looked… Pleased. Now, that wasn’t part of the plan. Something must have gone wrong somewhere.

“Thank you very much, Doctor Smith,” she simply shrugged, shoving the book in a drawer. “That you would go to such extents is proof of your repentance.”

“But it's in French,” he pointed out, frustrated that she wouldn't make any more comments about it when he had expected, and even hoped for a tantrum.

“Yes, it is,” she smiled, slipping her glasses back on the tip of her nose - ah, that looked much better. “Good thing I speak French.”

“You… You do?” he asked as he watched his plan crumble down to ashes along with his confidence.

“Of course I do, majored in French literature, did one of my thesis about Molière. Why the disappointment? At least you didn't spend your money on a silly joke. I can actually use it. Gonna need to do a few extra hours to translate what my student needs, but all in all, this is better than nothing. So, thanks.”

“Oh, good, then, very good,” he could only nod, trying hard not to let the his abatement show on his face. “I could send it back and order the good one, though, I really...”

“Don’t sweat it, Doctor Smith,” she grinned as she handed him a small file of papers. “I know what you wanted to do. Sorry it didn't work.”

“No idea what you're talking about, I just wanted to help you.”

“Right. Now, I have work to do, so…”

He nodded with a sigh of defeat, but it was when he started to turn on his feet that he absent-mindedly read the title written in sharp little letters on the top of file. A title he knew all too well.

“Wait, what's this?” he asked as he sifted through the sheets to make sure it was what he thought it was.

“Your article about nuclear fission in subaquatic rift currents was good, but your whole theory doesn’t look very professional,” she started to explain much too matter-of-factly compared to the scornful twitch that pulled on her lips. “You'll find annotations and corrections. It might be science, but if you can’t spell all your gibberish properly, you won’t get published. You can leave it as it is, of course, but I doubt you'll go far with subacquatick rifts.”

“You went through the trouble of reading my article just to taunt me on stupid grammar?” he huffed, both angry and embarrassed to see so much red painted over the pages.

“Spelling, Doctor Smith. The grammar isn’t that good either, though, you'll find a few notes about that too. Page three, you say one thing and the exact opposite two lines further. It matters when you’re talking about potentially deadly stuff, just saying.”

“This is a paper I am still working on, I typed my notes at two in the morning, okay? How did you even get this, you snoop, I only posted it to my personal drive.”

“And on the staff Intranet. It appeared in the news stream, under the glorious title, hm, what was it? Oh yes, FML this fissions my ass. Thanks for the laugh, by the way.”

“No, I didn’t, I can’t have! It wasn’t even on the page yesterday when I logged in, and the latest news posted dates back to three weeks ago.”

“Don’t get your pink panties in a wad, your ass suffers enough as it is, it seems.”

“Just tell me how you found it, for God’s sake!” he huffed, angrily rolling the file in his fist as if he wanted to whack her head with it.

“The Intranet,” she repeated, undaunted by the way he braced himself against the edge of the desk to bend towards her, menacing and eyes shooting thunderbolts. “I knew you’d posted it by accident, so I saved a copy and deleted the post to spare you the embarrassment. But you know what, you’re right. Not my problem. I’ll just post it again and you can deal with it yourself. Now stop fissioning my own ass with your childish enterprises and go back to your toy to grow your mushrooms. Might want to stop by your computer first, though. People don’t need to know about your current anal health.”

He watched, powerless, her fingers type words he couldn’t read and click several times on her mouse. Surely, she wouldn’t… But then, she cocked her head at him with a bright smile and mouthed a done. Obviously, she would. And she had. Yes, he had been looking for trouble and willingly tugged on the Devil’s tail, but that didn’t prevent anger from boiling in his veins. If anyone else found this article, under that title, he wouldn’t bet much on his reputation for the coming weeks. He’d need to invest in earplugs rather than in books to mute the sneers and laughs that would bury him under mountains of shame.

“Go to Hell, Doctor Tyler,” he seethed, shoving the rumpled sheets in his pocket. “I won’t argue with someone who can’t differentiate between mushrooms and microbiological cultures!”

“Fine, just go, then,” she shrugged as she planted her fingers on her keyboard and waited for him to actually go. “Thanks for the book again, that was very thoughtful of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my next course. You’re welcome to attend, it’s about latin etymology, you might learn a thing or two about spelling subaquatic.”

“I know how to spell subaquatic, I wrote this in a rush, alright? I just… Nevermind. Have a nice day, Doctor Tyler. Enjoy your stupid book.”

He stormed out of her office before he could drown in her sickening smugness and rushed back to his office, his highest priority now consisting in deleting any trace of the humiliation eulogy this post was. He sat behind his computer and hurried to log in, opened the page he was looking for and scrolled through it to find the subject of the offence. Sure enough, there it was, posted under his name, but it seemed Doctor Tyler had deemed necessary to add an attachment. Introduction to Latin Etymology. He made a face at his screen and erased the article from the database with a few clicks. She was saucy, that woman. He loved it. Still, he would need to up the ante and hit harder if he wanted a chance at winning.

The email bell chimed again. His face blanched as he read the message she had sent him and his hands went to his fly.

I didn’t say pink panties by accident, BTW. Lovely underwear, Doctor Smith. Dr. T.

He zipped up his fly and fell back in his chair with a groan.

#doctorroseprompts #timepetalsprompts #ficandchips #john smith x rose tyler #university #au #enemies to lovers #humour #silly #john smith #rose tyler #trope

[caesarsme]

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[jadekitty777]

Troika - Chapter 1: To Act Good

Troika - (Noun) Russian in origin, meaning "set of three" or "three of a kind". It is a three-way dance between people.

Summary: Taiyang has a bad dream, Qrow has homesickness and James has a headache. Not necessarily in that order.Or, a series of snapshot events at different times of this trio's relationship together.

Rating: T

Pairing: James/Qrow/Taiyang

AO3 Link: Chapter One

Quick notes:  So, this story plot-bunnied from reading multiple other Tai/James/Qrow stories, which eventually sparked my interest in the pairing enough to write for it (of which I named more precisely on a03). First chapter is James! I’ve never written his character so extensively before, so I hope it’s alright.

~

A loud sigh was heaved in the empty office, the tall man sitting at his desk rubbing a hand over his eyes, stacks of paperwork spread before him across the desk.

There were few things in life that could give James a headache like the beginning fiscal year budget plan. While he only had to submit his general plan (he could almost hear Taiyang laughing) for the committee to overview and approve, it was still a good week’s worth of work crunching the new numbers in, then submitting it to his financial department to triple check those numbers. Even using last year’s data as a template, he still had to recalculate for inflation, economical changes, and, this year, a potential school expansion.

When his lovers had first brought up the idea, admittedly, James had tried to tune them out. Atlas had been functioning fine for 80 years now, what need did it have to change? Sure, Signal was one of the few schools in the world to have a few less traditional classes and there were no reported ill effects from these differences, but most of the academies didn’t think it was necessary to add to their curriculum based on that factor alone. Particularly psychology, which was still viewed by many in the science community as nothing but a ‘textbook full of crazy ideas made by crazy people’. So, when it was that course in particular the two pushed him on the most, James had told them that all of his students were trained to instill pure discipline in their minds and didn’t need an additional course to deal with “problems” that could arise from such a thing.

Sassy didn’t even begin to cover the way Qrow had looked at him as he bluntly quipped, “And that’s why students from Atlas have the highest recorded numbers of PTSD and depression, right?”

That had actually started a hell of a row between them and ended with Qrow furiously storming out of the house. He didn’t see him again until the next afternoon when the flying bird invaded his office and, rather than being shitfaced drunk like he expected, a report that would give most thesis papers a run for their money was slammed down onto his desk. Leafing through it, he wasn’t sure what impressed him more: that the expository essay detailing the effects of mental and cognitive-based courses on the proper development of strong Huntsman was surprisingly persuasive or that it had only taken Qrow one night to accurately compose it.

He’d gone home that night with an apology on his tongue and a promise in his heart to at least hear them out this time.

Tai, who had mostly watched the unfolding argument and reconciliation without weighing in to avoid taking sides, eventually contacted a former colleague from Signal and got him a lesson plan for the course. It gave him an idea of how the class was set up, what it covered and how it was applied to the students’ daily lives and future careers as Huntsman or even just members of society.

So now here he was, trying to find a way to spare funds for the additional classroom space, materials and staff needed while also trying to convince the committee it was a necessary change without turning himself into a total laughingstock at the board. He was just beginning to amuse himself over what it would be like if he let Qrow take his place at the meeting instead, when a knock at his door drew his attention.

“Come in,” James said. The door opened and his expression smoothed out to something a bit gentler when he saw it was Winter, though the look of stress across her features did worry him some. “Winter, is everything alright?”

“Sir, there’s,” She approached his desk, remembering herself enough to salute. “I apologize for interrupting but we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“Have you seen the news yet?”

He arched an eyebrow at the curious question. “I can’t say I have. Why?”

She hesitated, and it wasn’t often he saw one of his most composed soldiers so uncomfortable. “I just received word from Commissioner Bradley that Taiyang is being detained at her facility for assault and battery.”

James’ eyes widened, jerking to his feet. “What!?” That, that couldn’t be right. While Tai had a fiery side to him at times, he was usually the one who kept things from getting too out of hand. He had always been a firm believer that things could typically be handled in a more peaceful way. He would never hit an innocent – expect, according to his soldier, he apparently would.

“Qrow is there too. He’s not being incarcerated, but they are holding him for questioning.”

Before he could even think to ask more questions, his phone started ringing. He shoved aside some of his papers, picking up the receiver. “Hello?”

“James, what in blimey is going on?!” It was his director, Major Sergeant Steele. And he sounded absolutely furious. “I’ve got the press trying to ram down the gates right now all because of some riot one of your…” There was a derisive scoff, “partners decided to start.”

“Sir, there must be some kind of mistake,” He quickly tried to refute.

“You better hope there is! James, I could give less of a damn about your personal activities until it has the committee breathing down my neck. It was bad enough that you had the drunk vagabond in your bed, but now you’ve got some unstable psychopath too?!”

James was glad he picked up the phone with his real hand, otherwise he would have shattered the receiver. “I’ll get this cleared up and under control immediately.”

“See that you do General! If any further incidents like this hits the news, I GUARENTEE we will be discussing different opportunities for your position.” There was a click as the call was abruptly cut.

He took a few deep breathes to calm the race of his heart, setting the phone back on the hook. “Winter?”

“Yes sir?”

“I need a vehicle escort to the police station, immediately.”

“Right away sir.” She saluted him, before taking her leave.

~

Two years ago, his love life suddenly became a hot button topic when reporters had got wind of his relationship with Qrow just a few weeks after they finally made the big decision to start living together. While no stranger to having the occasional sweetheart in his bed, it was his first publicly discovered with another man. And with a world-renowned huntsman no less. It had been doubly insulting to realize that having become General back in his mid-30s had been something that barely lasted a week in the papers, but who he was seeing was worth a whole month of coverage. Still, he handled the situation as professionally as possibly, holding a conference to clearly dissipate any rumors and officially announcing his relationship with the other man, expressing how he hoped people would allow the matter to remain as it should: private.

It had been a foolish man’s hope, as barely three days later, Qrow was assailed by the paparazzi just outside of a bar downtown. Being as drunk as he was led to a very loose tongue – not to mention just his overall ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude – and certain things James would have rather remained unheard was broadcast all over the evening news. The next morning, the committee also talked his ear off about their disappointment in how he was handling his ‘professional image’ and how he might want to consider a ‘more respectable’ partner if he was going to continue to pursue romance.

It was an extremely rough patch in their relationship, one they almost didn’t weather through, but once the press and committee had backed off enough and they could breathe again, it gave them a chance to both establish some boundaries and reconnect.

He had thought there would be nothing worse than that incident.

Unfortunately, as he held his Scroll just shy of shattering it while the video played out on the screen, he discovered that he was very wrong.

“The streets of Atlas exploded this afternoon when a Huntsman knocked a reporter unconscious after a round of questioning.” Jewell Olsen was saying, a picture of the blond playing out on the screen behind her. “The perpetrator, identified as Taiyang Xiao Long, is a former instructor of Signal Academy and was seen fraternizing with a past teammate, Qrow Branwen. Former accounts from a few years ago detail Mr. Branwen being in a long-term relationship with the current General of the Atlas military, James Ironwood. When approached by Oliver Sikes, an alleged reporter of CTT News, the questioning quickly turned hostile. The camera crew was able to catch the following footage.” Jewell’s image faded to black, playing the beginning of the video.

“Mr. Branwen! Mr. Xiao Long!” Oliver, a young, ginger-haired adult in a dime store suit, was quickly hurrying down the sidewalk. “A moment please!”

The two men who, if James to guess, had just been on a date, were walking astride one another, hands linked between each other. At the call of their names though, they looked back. Qrow’s eyes darted between the reporter and the camera, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Taiyang, however, just looked confused as he responded, “Uh, yes?”

“I’m Oliver Sikes from CTT News. I was wondering if I could have a word with you both about your current relationship status with one another and General Ironwood.”

Qrow scoffed, waving his hand to shoo the other off. “Not interested, Freckles N’ Heckles. Go find someone else to pester, alright?” Without waiting for an answer, he whirled around, tugging Tai after him.

Persistently, the reporter walked after the duo, the camera bobbing behind him. “But sirs! There have been rumors going around and the public would like a clear answer. Is this perhaps an affair?”

“You need to clean your ears Scarlet Fever? Get lost!”

“Qrow!” Taiyang hissed.

Oliver glanced back, waving the cameraman forward before quickly sprinting to the blond’s side, the camera soon panning a side shot of them. “Mr. Xiao Long, is it true your hometown is located in the southern side of Anima?”

“I, well – yes,” He replied, increasing discomfort starting to show.

Ignoring the death gaze the former bandit was sending him, the reporter babbled on, “Research shows that many households in the southern villages still participate in becoming concubines for financial stability. Is that, perhaps, the relationship you now share with the general and Mr. Branwen here?”

“E-Excuse me?!” Taiyang spluttered, stumbling to a stop as his cheeks went bright red with mortification. Beside him, for probably the first time in his life, Qrow seemed to of been rendered speechless as he just stared, jaw agape.

James could feel the blood rushing hot in his veins, his scroll giving a warning creak as his grip tightened even more.

Oliver, quick on the draw but not on the shot, continued, “Or perhaps, it’s the other way around? After all, the background check reveals you’ve also had two daughters with two separate mothers within a very short amount of time of each other. While Mr. Branwen’s records show he also originates from Anima and has the same cultural appropriation as yourself, how did you convince General Ironwood of all people to enter into such an arrangement?”

Qrow’s face had twisted into absolute rage. “Matchstick, you did not just-”

He never even got a chance to finish before Tai moved.

It was so quick, had James not had such a well-trained eye, he would have easily missed the exact way the brawler whirled on the young man and bashed him right in the face; the punch was so powerful, it blew right through the other’s aura and the crack of breaking bone split loud in the air. The force flung the reporter right out of the camera’s view and there was a sound of shattering glass and screams. Whomever was working it quickly turned, revealing the broken storefront window across the street and the gathering of pedestrians crowding around the unconscious, sprawled form of Oliver Sikes.

“Tai!”

The view moved back to the duo. Qrow had grabbed onto the blond’s arm, looking around furtively for an escape. Tai, a mask of impassive calm, slowly turned and faced the camera straight on. The only indication of the inferno of fury underneath that visage was the golden-orange glow of his eyes. And for a moment, James was back at the tail-end of the war, during the last time he’d ever even seen Tai with his semblance activated. One second, he had been going toe-to-toe with Hazel Rainart, the next their enemy was being flung through a wall as the blond casually stalked after him, looking much like the ferocious beast of legend he was named after.

Shaking of the vestiges of the past, he focused back on the video. And when Tai spoke, James felt a disturbed shiver run down his spine at that tone filled with nothing but malevolence and wrath, “If you do not wish to join him, perhaps you should turn that camera off now.”

The feed ended and Jewell appeared back on screen. “Authorities managed to arrest both men a few blocks from the incident, and currently have them in holding at a local station. Oliver Sikes was transported to the nearest hospital, where he is currently being treated for multiple lacerations, along with a broken jaw and fractured skull.”

As she moved onto the next headline, James turned off his phone and slumped back into the passenger seat of the car with a loud sigh, already feeling the weight of a long and awful day that would precedent many long and awful weeks. And Tai, much newer to their relationship than he and Qrow had been when they had been discovered, might be the cost this time. The idea that he might lose the blond when he barely got to have him at all just because people couldn’t mind their own god damn business infuriated him as much as it tore him apart.

Other than a quiet glance his way, Winter said nothing as she turned into the parking lot of the police station.

~

“He’s over here, being as cooperative as ever.” The commissioner said as she led him through the interrogation center, something about her tone belaying someone whose day had already been too much. On top of everything else in her lap that day, having to deal with Qrow’s ornery attitude, of which she was all-too familiar with, probably was the cherry on top of her least favorite type of sundae.

“I’m sorry about this.” James replied. Lila Bradley had been a friend ever since his academy days and she had always been a trusted confidant when it came to keeping him in the loop of certain local legal issues that he might need to be aware of – the most brazen of which was the pedophile case of a recognized officer’s brother.

However, he had never thought he’d need her assistance on such a personal matter before. He knew it was no mistake that his two lovers had ended up in her hands, and for that, he was already grateful.

The commissioner plucked some keys off a wall, morosely staring at the two-way mirror as she said, “It couldn’t just be another bar fight, could it?”

James peered in as well.

Qrow was balancing on his chair’s back two legs, arms loosely crossed over his chest as he spoke more to the ceiling then his audience. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I told the kid to back off. He didn’t. Then he said some shit he shouldn’t have and it got him in trouble. If you ask me, he caused his own situation there.”

His interrogator standing across from him was a young woman. Her long braid of pinkish-white hair fell over her shoulder as she shook her head at him. “So, you think what your friend did back there was just fine and dandy?”

“Perhaps,” He said the word almost as spitefully as Tai had, “The fucker should have considered his mouth before calling us a bunch of sluts all over national television.”

The deputy questioning him remained unmoved by their plight, saying steadily, “That’s still no reason to send a guy to a hospital. He wasn’t threatening you in any way. You should have just walked away.”

“Thanks for the life lesson there Eggshell.” He replied, voice drawling with sarcasm, “Should I try talking things out with Grimm next? Start sending out invitations to tea parties?”

She slammed her hands down on the table. “That’s not even remotely-”

Lila unlocked and opened the door in one quick movement, stepping into the room. “Shelly!”

The officer jerked around. “Ma’am!” When he walked into the room next, her eyes bulged some, quickly saluting as her heels clicked together. “General, sir!”

“At ease.” He told her.

“We’ll take over from here. Go take a break.” Her boss added.

Once Shelly had left and the door was again closed, he turned to Qrow. The man hadn’t even moved, though he did smirk his way. “Hey Jimmy-boy. Finally left that stuffy office long enough to come save me?”

“I don’t know. A day in here might do you some good.”

“Please don’t inflict that on me.” Lila said as she flipped off the microphone and camera to the room, allowing the three of them some true privacy.

The legs of the chair made an audible clack as they landed back on the floor, the man sending her a wink. “An evening with me too much for you, toots?”

“I’m certain your star performance is ten minutes at best,” Was her short return as she leaned back against the wall.

There was an amused snort, but as James came to stand beside him, Qrow looked towards him, “You saw the video, right?”

“Yeah.” Just the thought of it was enough to make his headache creep back, “I did.”

“The hell are we gonna do?”

For the long term, he had no idea. But for right now… “Under normal circumstances, he’d have to be executed here for the crime. But Tai’s not a citizen of Atlas yet, meaning he falls under the jurisdiction of the military, not the local authorities. It won’t take much for him to be appointed under my charge.”

That seemed to ease Qrow some, until the commissioner spoke up, “But, by the time this all hits the court, he’ll have his green card, so he’ll still have to attend a sentencing and he’ll be tried as a citizen regardless. In the best-case scenario, a lawyer will be able to convince the jury that Sikes assaulted first, but there’s a very high chance he’s going to be doing some time.”

“Ugh.” The huntsman groaned, placing his head in his hands. “Why is Atlas so fucked up?”

“Moreover though,” Lila turned to James, saying, “Do you really want to pull Taiyang out of here based on a technicality like that?”

“What?” Qrow looked up. “Why the fuck wouldn’t he?!”

“You give him special treatment now, the defense will flock to that like sheep; but if you make him responsible, the judge might take more sympathy.” She sighed, running a hand through her pixie-cut brown hair. “Look, if you want my true opinion? No matter which way I angle it, I’ve still got someone in a hospital and someone who needs to be held responsible. The best option is to keep him in holding until things calm down.”

“Hell no.”

James gave the man beside him a look that he hoped said ‘behave’, before saying softly, “Lila, I know how this looks-”

“Do you?” She cut back tersely. “James, if this had been one of your men, you would have incarcerated them yourself.”

“Or shot them.” Qrow quipped with bitter humor.

Ignoring that, she folded her arms over her chest, continuing, “I’m just saying, you’re not exactly the most objective person to be making a decision like this right now. If the public finds out you released Taiyang, you know how the press will try to twist that.”

“Who cares about the damn press! We’re not leaving him here!”

“You should, if you give any merit to the men you’re dating, that is.”

The huntsman was on his feet almost immediately. “Where do you get off-”

“Qrow!” The snap of his name made him flinch, the man turning to scowl down at him. “She’s not wrong. We are making this decision solely on emotion.”

“No, yeah I get it, believe me.” He waved his arms out expressively, before placing a hand on the table to lean forward, an angry gleam in his red eyes. “But thing is Jimmy, that shit’s already out for the whole world to see. So, while we all put up with the fact that every damn newspaper and magazine from here to the black markets of Vacuo chat about how we’re whoring my best friend around between us, least we can fucking do is let him suffer in the comfort of his own home before he has to be holed up in a goddamn jail cell!”

James breathed softly through his nose, trying to stay calm. “Sometimes to avoid exasperating a situation, it requires making a decision we may not prefer.” He could already see a retort on the tip of the other’s tongue, so he said first, “But it does not mean we should be the one’s making it.”

That caught the other off guard. “Meaning?”

He glanced over to Lila. “Would it be possible for us to see Tai?”

Her eyes darted between them, before she pushed off the wall. “Of course. I’ll bring him here.”

When the door had shut again he turned back to Qrow. Most of the fight had blown out of the man, leaving him partially slumped against the table as he scowled at the wall. He stepped up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “One way or another, we’re going to figure this out, Qrow.” He followed the length of his arm until he could curl his own hand around the other’s where it was curled tightly around the edge of the table. “I promise.”

Whether the other believed him or not was hard to tell, but eventually the tension eased as he turned his hand, interlacing their fingers together and pressing himself against James’ side. “Can’t be any harder than fighting Salem, right?”

“Can’t imagine it will be.” He said, nuzzling his face into Qrow’s hair.

“Hey now, do you know how long that takes me to style?”

“Unfortunately yes, I do.” He joked lightly. “You’re undoubtably the reason they call it fashionably late.”

He got hip-checked in reprimand for that one. “I’m not that bad.”

“And yet I was the one who had to lie about when our dates started.”

“Pff, whatever.” He turned his head so it rested in the hollow of James’ clavicle.

They continued on like that, keeping the conversation light, just trying to find a way to pass the time as they waited. None of it was consequential, though James did find out his two lovers indeed had been on a lunch date enjoying the warm spring day, before they’d been ambushed. Likewise, he told Qrow about his mock plans to put him as the figurehead on the council so he could convince all the other “high collars” where they could shove their fiscal budget; mostly, he just enjoyed hearing him chuckle. When they ran out of things to say, they just stayed close, silently supporting each other as the weight of the mess they were in tried to weigh on them. It wasn’t until they heard the turn of the lock in the door that they pulled apart, watching as it opened and Lila ushered Tai into the room.

As Qrow flocked to his best friend’s side, Lila eyed him and gave him a nod. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you.” James replied frankly. Another click of the door and they were once more locked in.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I mean, not really but…”

He turned his gaze to the two men. Qrow had his hand around the other’s wrist, bowing his back a bit to try and get the blond to look at him. “Tai,” He said stepping forward and it was enough that Tai darted his gaze towards him. The sight of him gave him pause. His face had paled like the life had been drained from him and stress and fear carved wrinkles into his forehead. But none of that stood out quite like: “Your eyes…”

Lilac-shaded eyes blinked back at him, and then he looked down, chuckling humorlessly as he held up his free hand. “Yeah, no aura.”

He recognized the inhibitor instantly of course. He’d put the same binds on many previous criminals himself. But looking at the white handcuff, blue lights on it indicating it was functioning and depleting the wearer’s aura, James couldn’t help but feel how wrong it was to see that same bind on Tai of all people. He reached out and caught his hand, rubbing gently at the reddened skin where the shackle had chaffed it, whispering solemnly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Tai was staring at him again. “I’m the one who punched someone through a window!”

“Because someone decided to dig through your history and shame you on public television!” He could feel his blood running hot again and he quickly let go of the other so he didn’t accidentally grip him too hard. “You and Qrow shouldn’t be harassed like this on the streets. But you will be, all because you’re with me.”

“Oh hell no.” Qrow intervened loudly, whirling on him. “Stop those damn thoughts right now because you are not doing this again.”  

“But-”

“No, I fucking mean it!” He said, cutting his hand through the air. “The rest of the world can go fuck itself!”

Tai placed a hand on his teammate’s shoulder, glancing his way. “I think what Qrow means in his delightfully articulate way is: we know who we’re dating James. You’re a public figure and that means everyone is going to be in your business. Honestly, I knew it was only a matter of time someone would headline me as being some affair or mistress.” That caught James a bit off guard, guilt tangling its way through his heart. He had predicted this? Tai was staring back at the ground again, running a hand over the back of his neck. “But I never expected them to make the same claims about you guys. Or Raven and Summer. That’s why I lost it. I can handle someone insulting me. But I wasn’t really ready to have someone insult everyone I’ve ever loved.”

“It was low.” Qrow spit caustically.

“That’s no excuse!” He retorted, voice cracking. “Everyone’s going to pay consequences for this, not just me. Reporters are going to be stalking you both for weeks!” Tai turned towards him. “And I know the council is going to be on your ass over this for months.”

True as it was, the urge to argue the matter surged through him. James didn’t want him thinking that was his fault – and anyways, the unfortunate truth was even had there been no violent retaliation, the fallout probably would have been about the same. It was just a bit more complicated now.

He never got a chance before the other was shaking his head, tangling his hand into his blond hair. “I haven’t even considered Ruby and Yang. I can’t even get ahold of them from in here. And that poor kid.” His watering eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck! I didn’t mean to hurt him. I don’t even know if he’s okay.”  

Whatever residual blame James was feeling was quickly overshadowed by his sudden worry for Tai. He carefully coaxed the hand from his hair, letting him hold onto him instead. “I called on the way over. Sikes is going to make a full recovery.”

“And I’ll smooth things over with the girls.” Qrow said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Things are going to be fine Tai-guy. Come on, let’s sit down, alright?”

Many minutes later found them all sitting back against the wall. A much calmer Tai was between them, sitting crossed legged. James was at his left, his arm braced along the blond’s waist for comfort as he let him lean up against his shoulder. At his right was Qrow, one knee drawn up and hand dangling over it, while his other held Tai’s. As the tension eased, they started to shuffle through their options on what to do next.

“How about this,” Qrow intervened as they cycled over the pros and cons of putting Tai under military house arrest for the third time now, “What’s the best and worst case scenario here?”

James rubbed his chin, thinking it over. “Best case is Sikes never presses charges. We won’t know whether he will be or not until he can make an official statement with the police, which will probably be a few days from now. But if he doesn’t, then we’ll just have to deal with some fines and this’ll blow over in a few weeks.”

“What’s the likelihood of that though?”

“Not very. Even if he doesn’t want to, I imagine his superiors will push him into it just for the coverage.”  

Tai tilted his head just enough to look up at him. “And worst case?”

He grimaced, unable to meet his eyes. “Would be you getting the maximum sentence. It would be about half a dozen counts of assault, one count on property damage and one count battery. If it’s all treated like a misdemeanor, it would result in quite a few fines and about a year in jail. But, the problem is the battery count. If the judge determines it was a felony… that could be an additional four years.”

He heard the nervous swallow, Tai saying weakly, “That’s scary.”

“That’s the worst case and I really can’t see it going that far.” But it could, and that was the problem.

Qrow scoffed, scowling at nothing in particular. “What about what Pixie-cut said, that Sikes assaulted first? How does that work? He didn’t attack us.”

“No but assault can be verbal too. Technically, he never got permission to film or question either of you.” James explained. “You had denied consent entirely and even though Tai gave answers, the omission of saying yes still counts. Defacing someone’s character isn’t exactly lawful in the books either. It won’t abolish his own charges, but the fact that it can be construed that Tai was baited, it might help lessen whatever sentence he gets.”

“But that’s why I can have so many counts against me too, right?” The blond spoke up, realization dawning along his face. “Because I threatened the camera guy and could of hurt bystanders?”

“Right.”

Tai pressed a hand over his face, heaving a sigh, “All this legal stuff is a bit beyond me.” He straightened up, looking between the two of them. “Alright, before we do anything rash, why don’t you guys go and consult a lawyer? You can ask them what the best course of action is.”

That was actually a fairly solid idea. “But we’d have to leave you in here.” James pointed out.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I don’t really like that.” Qrow grumbled, sliding down the wall some.

“Neither do I, but it’s safe. And right now, that’s what we need: to play it safe.” He pulled a bit at the shackle, twisting it along his skin. “Besides, I’m not trying to erase myself of any responsibility on this. I screwed up. So I’ll face whatever consequences I get for it.”

Qrow groaned, burying his head into the blond’s arm as he growled, “I hate it when you get self-righteous like this.”

Tai spared him a compassionate smile, running his fingers through the other’s dark hair, just enough to get those red eyes to peer up at him again. “Sorry, not all of us can be as immoral as you.”

Though James couldn’t see Qrow’s expression, he could see the blond’s. How his smile faded and the light in his eyes went out as the weight of the situation crushed over him once more. Tai reached out, pulling his best friend close and clinging onto him almost desperately. The other man said nothing, just pressed his face into his neck.

The sight of them seemed to amplify the heaviness James could also feel, almost making it hard to breathe. He moved forward, curving his other arm around Qrow’s thin waist as he dragged them both against his chest and whispered baseless promises against their hair, “We’ll be fine. We’re going to get through this.”

He just prayed that he could somehow make those words true.

~

James lifted his head from his hand when a mug was placed down on his desk. From the aroma, he could tell it was coffee. He looked up at the person who had brought it to him curiously.

“You looked like you could use it.” Winter said in way of explanation, straightening up respectively. “If I may be so bold, sir, you haven’t been looking well.”

“I’m fine.” He replied, rubbing a hand over his burning eyes. “Things have just been… stressful at home.”

That was an understatement. Things were absolutely miserable.

Winter gave a nod, crossing her arms behind herself. “I can imagine.” She seemed to debate her next words carefully, before adding, “While I’ve always respected your dedication, I do hope you’ll consider some time to yourself soon, sir.”

Irritation hit him like a wave on the beach, fast and then receding quickly, leaving him further worn. Could he really fault her concern? He knew how he must appear. “I will… consider it Schnee. But for now, I need to finish my work.” He nodded to the cup. “Thank you for the coffee.”

She saluted. “Sir.” And with that, turned and left the room.

He sighed, slumping back over to rest his head back into his hands.

Though Sikes had awoken after the first day in the hospital, he had yet to give any sort of statement. It had been nine days now and still no news. The apprehension was starting to get to even him, but it seemed to be even worse on Qrow. The huntsman was refusing to leave the house, unwilling to face the press right now, and most nights found him drinking heavily. He doubted he was eating much, intaking his calories with the alcohol instead.

Tensions really came to a head last night though, when Qrow ran his last bottle of whiskey dry and James denied going out to get him more, claiming he’d be better off without it. Which, of course, rose slurred allegations of him acting like a tyrannical know-it-all. Fighting with a drunk Qrow was never pleasant. But he quickly discovered dealing with a crying, drunk Qrow was worse which was where things eventually ended. He had never seen the other man like this before. Had it not been for Tai, frowning knowingly at the updates on his behavior, not warned him of the potential outcome, it might have even scared him a bit.

Since this morning, with some time to sober up, Qrow was doing much better both emotionally and mentally, but the whole fiasco had left James only a few hours to sleep before he had to roll out of bed again. Not that it really mattered, since after many long years of dormancy, his insomniac tendencies decided to return with a vengeance. He’d already been up over twenty-four hours on two occasions now, mind too wrapped up in anxious thoughts to allow him to slow down and rest. When he was at home, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough. But when he was at work, he was struggling to focus. And when he wasn’t dealing with the press or council breathing down his neck, he was spending it at the police department.

He could still see the concern in those lilac eyes as Tai asked, “James, you have been sleeping, right?”

He shook off the memory. Of all of them, Tai was handling things the best, despite being in the most dire situation. Every time they met in the visitation center, he was doing his best to smile and even crack a joke or two. Had already said more than once now that worrying over the unknown wasn’t good for them and all they could do was wait until they had something more concrete. If he had to guess, James wagered he was putting on a brave front for him – and Qrow, who may not have been visiting in person but was sneaking out in bird form to sit at Tai’s window.

The ringing of his phone jerked James upright, and he blinked down at the device blearily. When it gave another shrill tone, the noise buzzing oddly along his dim senses, he reached out and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“I have wonderful news!” It was Nikolas Falco, the defense attorney he had hired to look into their case. Lila had been the one to recommend him, telling him he was the best in the business. Though the slightly eccentric thirty-year-old was certainly not what he expected when he walked into his office the first time. He heard the man give a cough as he remembered himself, “I mean, General Ironwood, sir, I-”

“You can get to the point, Falco.” He said, not caring for semantics right now. “What did you hear? Did we get a plea bargain?”

“Even better! Sikes isn’t going to press charges!” He practically sang.

“W-What?” James fell back against his chair, unable to believe it. “But, why?”

Falco gave a thoughtful hum. “No clue. Sometimes people just don’t want to go through the trouble. Other people don’t want to get mixed into a high-end case with a powerful figure. Or maybe he was just feeling guilty. Either way, you know what they say: Don’t look a Griffon Grimm in the mouth unless you want to get bit!” He snickered. When James failed to answer, the lawyer coughed, then said, “Anyways, congratulations! I’ve already given word to the commissioner. She’s ready to release Mr. Xiao Long upon your arrival. So, if you want my advice, get going!”

That seemed to break him from his shock, jumping to his feet. “Right, of course! Thank you, Falco. I’ll send you a check tomorrow.” He hurriedly ended the call, before lifting the receiver again, heart pounding rapidly as he started to dial Qrow’s number. Tai, he’d be coming home today! He couldn’t believe their luck!

Just as he was about to press the last digit in, his eyes fell to the coffee still cooling on his desk. His hand hovered there, suspicion starting to grow, and then he pressed down on the cradle, hanging up the call. When he dialed again, it was much slower, more deliberate.

It didn’t take long for the Intelligence Department to answer. “General Ironwood, it’s a pleasure!”

“Cecilia, I need a number.”

“Of course. For who?”

He told her, quickly writing it down when she’d gathered the information for him. As he dialed that number, he slowly took his seat, breath stuck in his throat as he waited for an answer.

Just when he thought it might go to an answering machine instead, he heard the click of someone picking up, and then a gentle voice of an elder woman was in his ear. “Hello?”

“Good day ma’am. Is this Mrs. Lola Sikes?”

“Why yes, it is. How may I help you?”

“Mrs. Sikes, I apologize for calling at this time, but this is General James Ironwood.”

He heard her gasp. “O-Oh! Oh my.” She pulled away from the phone, probably hoping she was being discreet as she took a few deep breathes. When she came back to the phone, her tone was cheery and bright, “I feel honored, General. Did you call to speak with my son?”

“I would prefer he continue to rest. I understand he is still recovering, though if you can give him my gratitude for not pressing charges I would be eternally grateful. I also wished to offer my condolences and deepest regret over what happened. I would have reached out sooner, had the situation not been what it was.”

“Never you mind that.” She was quick to say. “I raised my boy to be more respectful then he was that day, so if anyone should apologize, I feel it should be me. Ollie will be just fine and maybe now he’ll think a bit more before he opens his mouth. Not that he’ll be opening it at all until those wires come out.”

He wasn’t sure whether he was meant to laugh or not; his lips quirked up all the same as he lent forward, folding an arm across his desk. “Be that as it may, I know those medical charges must be steep. At the very least, allow me to front them.”  

“That is very kind of you, truly. But, it’s already been taken care of.”

“Oh? May I ask by whom?”

“Why, Miss. Winter Schnee of course.” He knew it. James shut his eyes, listening to her continue on, ��It was quite a shock when she came in to check on my son in the hospital. Quite a lovely and sweet girl, really. She spoke very highly of you as well.”

“I see. She is my best subordinate. Well, I suppose I should let you go then. Again, I apologize for all the trouble caused. If there is anything else I can possibly provide, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Mrs. Sikes gave a soft noise of disapproval. “Believe me General, I’m just glad to be done with this awful situation. I wish you and yours well.”

“As I yours.” He replied. “Have a good day ma’am.”

He set the phone down and lifted it up one more time. Rather then punching in a number, he quickly dialed the extension to the office secretary. “Jaxon, can you call Schnee back to my office?”

“Yes, sir!”

By the time his door was opening, James had already packed up and was waiting in front of his desk. Though she seemed a bit taken aback by his change of demeanor, she saluted him all the same. “You asked for my presence General?”

“I did.” James said, leaning back against the wooden surface behind him as he crossed his arms. “Tai’s being released today. As it turns out, there won’t be any charges against him.”

“Really? That’s wonderful news!” She said, and had he not been looking for it, even he would have been fooled by the falsely surprised tone. She was once Jacques’ perfect performance doll after all, and those skills had never quite left her arsenal.

“Yes. It is.” He agreed slowly, “However, when I offered the Sikes household reimbursement for the bills, it turns out it was already taken care of. I imagine that same generous donor also persuaded him from going through with the case.” The growing wariness on her face fell to shame as she realized she had been discovered, her head lowering. He knew the reaction had very little to do with him, but it still pained him to see her like this. What teachings did you have to give to a child to make them believe being kind was a crime?

He pushed off from the desk, approaching her slowly.

“Sir?” She asked him questionably, only to gasp in surprise when he reached out, pulling her into a gentle embrace. She stood rigidly, stunned and maybe a bit confused. “S-Sir?”

“Thank you, Winter.” He said sincerely, though the longer she remained stiff and unmoving in his arms, the more he worried he maybe overstepped his bounds.

Just as he was considering to pull away, she relaxed, returning the gesture hesitantly. “It was nothing, James. Really.”

He smiled. “If I thought you’d accept it, I’d offer to pay you back.”

As expected, she shook her head. “With all due respect, this was one I owed to you.” That got him to draw back finally, quirking an eyebrow in question. She looked up towards him, saying, “Do you remember what you told me when my father was holding me back from the specialist exams?  You said if I truly wished to become a Huntress, to be all that I could be, that I’d have to take some risks every now and again. It gave me the courage to finally step away from my family, to become my own person. And it’s with that, I was able to finally find happiness.” Her own smile was small but genuine. “Protecting your happiness in return was the least I could do.”

“You had that strength in you all along.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I just gave you a nudge in the right direction.”

In the sassiest tone she would ever allow herself around him, she replied, “Then I gave you a shove.”

James laughed heartily. “Indeed. Thank you.”

She nodded, then added, “If I may ask one favor though?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t… tell Qrow about this.” She rolled her eyes. “He’ll never shut up if he knows.”

He didn’t have to stretch his imagination far to picture the scenario. It would probably only take one ‘Ice Queen what finally went and melted your heart?’ for Atlas Academy’s courtyard to be the next on the list of unfortunate causalities that resulted from their skirmishing. And they didn’t have a Glynda to put it all back together when they were done, either.

“Consider it done.”

She relaxed considerably. “Excellent. Are you heading to the police station then?”

“After a few calls, yes.”

“Allow me to let you get to it.” Her heels clacked together. “I hope you have a good evening, sir.”

“You as well, Winter.” As she took her leave, he crossed back over to his desk, pulling out his scroll. There would still be a lot to deal with in the coming weeks, but things were certainly in a much better place then they had been just an hour ago.

“Mmmgha, yea Jim?”

As soon as James heard Qrow’s sleepy drawl, joy zinged through him as he circled his desk, looking for his keys. Nothing in the world could have made him stop smiling at that moment. “You’ll never believe the call I just got.”

A/N: Thank you all for reading and I hope you’ll all stick with me for the next one. Tai’s perspective is up next!

A few inconsequential notes:

I’m not sure how clear I made it, but Tai’s semblance in this is meant to be “aura disruption”. Basically, when his semblance is active, he can go right past someone else’s to deliver a wounding hit right off the bat. And while most semblances aren’t hereditary, I adore the idea that between parents and kids they can have similarities between just because of genetics or whatever. Which is why, like his daughter, his semblance also creates a change of eye color and a temperament change.

Atlas’ police, legal and citizenship system is American inspired but done with amateur research. Anima is of course Asian, with the mentions of Tai’s culture being drawn from Chinese history specifically. Vale, and by extension Patch, is supposed to be subtly European, as the Europe area was the first to make Psychology a science (Germany, actually). Whether that’s accurate to what the show is actually doing is kind of up in the air, since the culture references are all over the place.

James and Winter’s very slight father-daughter relationship is entirely because of Jacques line about how James “stole his daughter from him”.

Name inspirations:

Oliver Sikes is a reference to Oliver Twist. Oliver being the protagonist, Sikes being the antagonist. Sikes, ironically, has a prostitute for a girlfriend in the book. I made him a ginger after Oliver the cat from Disney’s Oliver’s Company.

Jewell Olsen and Lola Sikes are both references to Superman’s Jimmy Olsen and LOis LAne.

Nikolas Falco is a reference to Law and Order’s detective Nick Falco but the eccentric nature is meant to give a more Pheonix Wright vibe.

Shelly is a reference to seashells.

Lila Bradley isn’t a reference to anyone, I just liked the last name and had to find something that sounded good with it and fit the color naming rule. Same for Cecilia, Jaxon and Major Sergeant Steele.

#james ironwood #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #qrow #taiyang #general ironwood #rwby #fanfiction #jamesqrowtai #Chase Firekitten's Tale