happymoodstu

[thethingything]

there are like 12 weeks of 2024 left so it's time to make a bunch of polls on Simply Plural to try and figure out what the fuck our new year's resolutions for 2025 are gonna be because ideally we should not leave that until the last minute and then get a ridiculous number of alters to vote at once on December 31st again.

I imagine a lot of the suggestions will be similar to this year's ones because we've enjoyed the ones we decided on, but it'll be interesting to see what we come up with. we're thinking about doing another Big Drawing but maybe going with 1 hour a week instead of 2.

we might also do something similar to Bread Quest but with a different category of food, but I'm not sure which one. Fruit Quest and Candy Quest were both suggested last time, and Cheese Quest could be an option, but we'll see what happens I guess.

after checking back, I've just realised we forgot about like half of this year's goals, but it has been a chaotic year so it is what it is. one of them was to pick a new species each week to learn a bunch of facts about, and we didn't do that but we've definitely learned to identify a fuckload of species so we did something at least somewhat related to that

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things-Damaged

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of rape, murder, and cheating. Canon-typical violence. 

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: and so we begin our descent into the world of slow-burn! this piece begins at the end of season 3 episode 13 & carries into seasons 3 episode 14. thank you to everyone who has interacted with my stories, commenting and reposting helps creators so much! enjoy this installment :)

The Purest Things Masterlist

Gif Credit: @hqtchner

january 2008

Bookend: “We are all damaged. We have all been hurt. We have all had to learn painful lessons. We are all recovering from some mistake, loss, betrayal, abuse, injustice or misfortune. All of life is a process of recovery that never ends. We each must find ways to accept and move through the pain and to pick ourselves back up....Each tragedy is an announcement that some good will indeed come in time. Be patient with yourself.” ― Bryant McGill

Another day, another murderer locked away. This case proved that sometimes, the so-called "good guys" can be just as selfish as the "bad guys." The special agent who recruited the BAU's help, Jill Morris, used this case to obtain personal fame and grow her career.

You sit next to Rossi aboard the plane. He had a more personal interaction with Morris throughout the case, and you can tell her actions have left him more than disappointed.

Looking out the window at the sun setting behind the clouds, you mumble to yourself, "What's the difference?"

"Did you say something?" Dave speaks up.

Looking to him, you brush it off, "Oh. Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

He crosses his legs and smiles a warm smile at you, "Penny, for your thoughts then."

"I guess...I just don't understand how Jill Morris's motives can be any different from Jeremy Andrus's. Of course, Jill didn't murder or rape anyone. But, she exploited this case for her own personal benefit. She didn't just use the unsub; she exploited the victims as well. How is that any different than Jeremy using women for his own gratification?"

David sighs, "Aristotle said, 'Every practical pursuit or undertaking seems to aim at some good.' Our brains are wired for love and solidarity. Greed forms to undermine that wiring and trick others into believing that their means to an end is done for "good." People believe that to maintain that myth, any and all costs to others are simply casualties in the long run."

"There is all the difference in the world between helping another soul and exploiting their hardship for your own gain and deceiving yourself that they are the same," he continues, "I tried to show Jill that. But, I think she's already determined that the reason she does this job is not for the same reasons that we do. The rush of catching a suspect comes second to the excitement she gets when being praised for her achievement."

"What happened to her empathy," you wonder, "Empathy is a natural foundation in each of our lives, and our society functions on it! How could that not overpower her desire for recognition? I mean, for Christ's sake, her friend just died!"

"Unfortunately," he solemnly says, "It is harder to understand the motives of our peers than it is to profile a serial killer."

+++++

You wake as if there is an emergency, like sleeping had become a deadly thing, your heart pounds, and thoughts jumble throughout your brain. Shooting up from your seat, you crawl over a sleeping Rossi and stumble your way to the bathroom.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the edge of the sink. Looking cautiously into the mirror, as if you are uncertain of what you'll see, you take in your ghostly appearance. Sweat beads drip down your forehead. Unable to comprehend the blurry remnants of your dream, you turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you notice everyone is sound asleep. Thank goodness no one noticed your state of panic. You notice that one overhead reading light is on and look to see Hotch awake and blankly staring out the window.

"Can't sleep either?" You ask, sitting across from him.

"Are you alright?" He asks, trying to deflect your attention.

You squint at him, unwilling to back down, "Are you?"

He looks at you intently, taking the sight of you in inch-by-inch. No one has asked him that over the past few weeks. In fact, everyone has seemingly been avoiding him since he was served his divorce papers. Perhaps they are doing it because they are unsure how to support him or genuinely feel that what he needs right now is space.

However, you know that being alone is the last thing he needs right now. "Hotch, I know it isn't my place, and I--I'm sorry if this is overstepping. But that expression on your face that you've worn for the past few weeks isn't foreign to me. Perhaps to everyone else, it is. They don't know what to do or say. You're their unit chief, and they are used to you being strong and keeping it together for the sake of everyone else."

He straightens his posture, his attention centered on you.

"I witnessed firsthand the ways that divorce can torment people. My parents got a sudden divorce when I was 14. It was unexpected to all of us. My father was unfaithful, and although my mom was willing to forgive him, he didn't want to put in the work anymore. He found a new outlet for his frustrations. I watched my mother and father waste away for years," you lament.

Hotch sits on the edge of his seat, his eyes trained keenly on you. It was odd for him to make a connection so quick, to give his trust so easily. In fact, he hardly trusts at all. Dave and Haley are the only ones who have really been given an insider's peek into the mind and heart of Aaron Hotchner. There was something in the way he listens so actively to what you are saying. You would be lying if you said you didn't notice his gaze aimed at your lips.

There is a sympathetic and heartfelt concern he shows for you, one second only to your own regard for him. He listens like he is absorbing your words. The longer you spend in each other's presence, the more you both realize that this is the kind of friendship you both have needed for far too long. Even if the words go unspoken, you share an empathetic understanding of one another, and you are sure it has been there since the day you met. Hotch has been fascinated by you since he watched your interview with Strauss over and over again, though he would never let it be known.

+++++

February 2008

Today is the day that you get to accompany Hotch and Reid on the Criminal Personality Research Project to interview Chester Hardwick before his execution. Hardwick's case is one you know inside and out. You wrote a research report on it that was awarded the Graduate Student Ethics Writing Competition winner for the American Psychological Association and was published in their Ethics and Behavior journal. Agent Hotchner suggested that you tag along, considering you know just as much about the case as Spencer does.

You and Spencer absentmindedly fiddle with the knickknacks that rest upon the desk as you wait to be escorted to see Chester Hardwick.

Hotch's phone begins to ring, and he answers it, "Yeah, J.J... Um, no, it's--It's a personal matter. Yes, thank you. I will take care of it when I get back."

"Everything okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah, fine." He says abruptly.

"We can do this interview another time," Reid offers.

Aaron huffs, "Well, he is scheduled to be executed next week."

"I can take the lead on the interview if you w-" Reid unintentionally pushes.

You cut him off, "Reid."

Hotch shoots you an appreciative look.

Anytime sir.

"Agent Hotchner?" A relatively short man wearing freakishly petite glasses comes to the door.

The Unit Chief shakes the man's hand and introduces you and Spencer.

"You're here to see our infamous inmate Hardwick," the warden exclaims.

"Yes," you say, "He agreed to meet with us as part of our Criminal Personality Research Project before his execution."

The man smiles widely, "I've read your research on Hardwick many times. I must say, seeing your perspective on the mind of such a prolific killer was very enlightening."

You beam with pride at his commendation. Instinctively you look to Hotch, who appears to have the slight trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You wonder, how can he go from scowling and frustrated one minute to fighting back the urge to smile at the mention of your achievements? You bite your lip to suppress any further needless excitement.

The warden continues to ramble, "Serial killers are kind of a hobby of mine. Chester is the only one I've ever met in person, though. I bet you've met quite a few."

"Sir," Hotch interjects, "We'd very much like to get started as soon as we can."

Time to put our serious pants back on.

You can visibly see your superior's annoyance, and you stifle a chuckle.

The warden quickly composes himself and apologizes for his enthusiasm, touching his hand to Hotch's shoulder in the process. Hotch's mouth falls agape, and his sights shoot to you. A small snort escapes you, and you cover your mouth, attempting to conceal it as a cough. He squints at you as if he is mentally murdering you. You crinkle your nose at him.

Don't mentally murder me when we are about to interview one of the most prolific killers of our time.

The warden leads you into the small cell that you will convert into a makeshift interrogation room. Soon enough, you hear the clanking of chains echoing in the hallway. Everyone's eyesight is fixed on the door.

A silver-haired man dressed in a yellow jumpsuit walks in with an air of arrogance and determination. He glares at Agent Hotchner, who mirrors the prisoner's actions exactly. Hotch states that keeping the prisoner chained will not be necessary, a call that both you and Spencer are unsure of.

Hardwick sits across from you and leans into the table, "I know you."

"And I know you. Too well, I think," you respond.

A menacing grin sweeps across his face, "Oh, I like you already. How about you send these two away so the grown-ups can talk."

You can hear your boss scoff from behind you.

"Chester, it's time to get serious."

"You were born April 4, 1950?" Spencer asks.

"Does my birthday really matter?"

"It's customary for us to start at the beginning. We want to know as much as we can about your childhood," Reid continues.

"There's nothing to know. It was average. I lived in a nice house on a quiet street. I ate cereal, went to school, watched cartoons."

"I don't have time for this," Hotch raises his voice, causing you to jump slightly, "You grew up in a series of projects, each one worse than the last. You spent your teenage years peeping into your female neighbors' windows and burglarizing their underwear drawers when you got the chance. You set 100 small fires for which you spent 2 years in juvenile detention."

You glance at Reid from the corner of your eye; you are both uncomfortable with the direction Hotch is taking this.

"We've done extensive research, Mr. Hardwick," you say, gently trying to soften the blow and appeal to the man's ego. If Hotch is taking the bad cop role, you need to be this psychopath's ally.

"We've talked to almost everyone you've ever known," you continue, "including your mother."

Chester swivels on the balls of his feet, "Good ol' Jean? I'll bet she was a real treat."

"At this point, lying to us isn't really possible or helpful," Spencer offers a slight smirk to the man.

"Y/N, right?" the prisoner turns his attention to you, "They're wrong. They're all wrong."

"About what, Chester?" You implore him.

"I started a lot more than one hundred fires," he peers out the window.

You look up at Hotch, and he sighs in surrender.

Chester antagonizes you three, stating that no one care's whether or not they hear the truth. In between his jabs, he strays to various different series of thoughts. Most are meaningless, but it is his way of trying to get under your skin. For you and Spencer, it is relatively easy to maintain your composure. For Hotch, however, Hardwick's digs do nothing but add fuel to the already lit flame under the special agent.

"Let's talk about the specifics of this case, Chester," you interrupt his rant, "Why did you choose Sheila O'Neal?"

He shakes his head, "You gotta show me a picture. I don't know their names."

As if you can feel Hotch's anger radiating off of his body, you brace yourself for the oncoming strike.

"Is that what this is all about," he says disgustedly, "Some chance for you to relive all of this?"

"I have an excellent memory," Chester brags.

You tune his impassionate speech out and focus your observance on your boss. His scalding stare at Hardwick can only translate one way, 'I have initiated my emotional indifference. I could kill you and not care one bit. So proceed with caution.'

"They were toys, a diversion," you hear Hardwick chant as you tune back into the present. Hotch looks anywhere but at the killer in front of him, his gaze eventually landing you. You are some kind of shelter to him that neither of you has yet acknowledged or come to understand.

Your stomach churns at Chester's descriptions of his victims. He describes them as useless objects that, once their purpose was served, were discarded like garbage.

"Why did you ask us here?" Hotch charges.

The wicked man looks at you, his eyes void of a soul and his stare sending a chill down your veins. 

"I wanted to speak to her." 

Your breath catches at the back of your throat.

With that, Hotch straightens up and fervently positions himself between Chester and you. "Reid, pack it up," he commands.

Reid looks to you, "Are you sure?"

"No, now." Your superior repeats himself with even more fervor. He presses the buzzer to signal the guards to release us and says, "Have a nice trip. You're going where you belong." Hotch makes sure to put as much distance between you and Hardwick as possible. He buzzes the ringer again. No response.

"It's 5:17," Hardwick chuckles.

You close your eyes, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Reaching out for Hotch's arm, you lower his hand from the buzzer. "The evening yard begins at 5 o'clock. No one is going to come open that door for-"

"At least thirteen minutes," Chester disrupts. He waltzes over the table and takes one of the images of his victims into his hand. Holding it up as if to brag to us about it, he says, "And it took me less than five minutes to do this."

You push aside your worry. Instead, you choose to focus on all of the information you have accumulated over the years about Chester Hardwick. There has to be something you can use to your advantage to diffuse this situation.

"Perhaps in all of your research, you should have familiarized yourselves with the guard tones," Hardwick jeers.

"I heard the tones," Hotch counters in a monotone voice.

"So you planned to be locked inside with me, with no guns or weapons."

Hotch shakes his head, his voice more natural than before, "I won't need a gun."

Spencer places his hand on your arm and begins to guide you to the other side of the room.

"There's no way I am going to be executed next week," Chester taunts, kneading his hands together. "Not after I kill three FBI agents. You saved my life by coming here." His venomous words ring in your ears.

Hotch's tone deepens, "Unfortunately for you, I am not a five-foot-one-hundred-pound girl."

Your pulse quickens at Hotch's threat, and your attention is rapt by his display of dominance. He begins to shed his jacket. You feel yourself flushing; attraction suddenly entangles you as if it were an invisible rope.

Now is the worst possible time to be feeling this. Calm down.

"All of your life, you've gone after victims who couldn't fight back," he fiercely says, "and the rest of the time you spent looking over your shoulder." You understand the intensity in his tone and sense a great deal of emotion behind his words.

He rips his tie from his collar, and your breathing hitches in the back of your throat. Hopefully, Spencer doesn't notice, and if he does, he chalks it up to the deadly situation you find yourself in.

"You were always worried about the knock on the door," Hotch doesn't back down, "Scared that somebody like me would be on the other side waiting to put you away."

Well, if you keep ripping your tie off like th--no. Not gonna go there right now. Focus on the pyshco-killer threatening to kill you.  

Now, Hotch intimidatingly points his finger directly at Hardwick.

If only I were on the receiving end of tha--no! Now. Is. Not. The. Time.

"At your core, you are a coward," Hotch fires.  

You have to do something. Hardwick is enraged, and Hotch has nothing left to lose.

Without even giving it a second thought, you blurt out, "Chester, do you want to know why you killed those women?"

"What?" The prisoner hisses.

Spencer speaks up, "Earlier, you said you wished you were different. We can tell you why you are...what you are."

He begins moving towards you, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice your boss carefully making equal strides. You motion for him to stop.

"You can tell me why I did what I did?"

"I think so," you nod, "Don't you, Dr. Reid?"

"I do. Your mother is bipolar. And almost certainly an undifferentiated schizophrenic. Your father suffered severe shell shock in the war, what we now refer to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. As far as I can tell, he remained clinically depressed the rest of his life."

"Exactly," you say, giving Spencer a chance to gather his thoughts after having thrown him under the bus.

"53% of all serial killers have some form of mental illness inherent to their families. Chester, in your case, both of your parents suffered from psychological disorders, which they essentially took out on each other as much as they beat you. So, violence sort of became a normal expression of love in your household," you say, eager to have some kind of breakthrough with him while subliminally directing Spencer's string of thoughts to follow yours.

Allowing Reid to pick up where you leave off, he takes charge of the conversation and explains how a portion of one's brain wants what it wants without conscience or judgment. A part of the brain that no doubt took over Hotch's reasoning powers moments ago, though you do not blame him.

"Earlier, you said your victims never had a chance. I think you know deep down that it was you that never really had a chance," he concludes. And with that victorious resolution, the guards unlock the door. Hotch storms out, and Reid follows behind.

"Is that true that I never had the chance?" Hardwick calls out after you both.

You stop in your tracks, "I don't know."

"Maybe," Spencer nudges you out the door.

++++

In the car, Hotch looks at you in the rearview mirror, "That was smart to get Hardwick to focus on himself long enough for the guards to come back."

You pat Spencer's shoulder, "I give all the credit to boy wonder and his beautiful statistic-filled brain. I'm sorry for all of the times I said you were running out of storage with all of that useless data."

"I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror," he declares, "Wait. Useless data? When did you say that?"

You pinch him softly and chuckle, "I'm kidding."

"I'm sorry," Hotch sighs.

You meet his gaze in the mirror once again, "For what?"

His chestnut eyes reveal pangs of remorse and guilt, but something tells you there's more to those feelings than what occurred at the prison.

"I antagonized the situation."

"No, you didn't," Spencer states.

"I certainly didn't help."

"Well, I can't argue with you there," you kid.

His piercing eyes suddenly twinkle, causing you to blush slightly. You quickly look down at your feet until your cheeks cool down.

Hotch sighs in defeat, "So Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested so that nobody wastes money on lawyers."

That statement is all too familiar to you. Yet again, your heart shatters for the Hotchners.

"You don't want to?" Spencer asks innocently.

He means well, but you know from experience that such a question only unleashes a tidal wave of painful emotions for the one fighting for his family.

"What I want, I'm not going to get," Hotch laments.

His eyes, once filled with depth, now distant and empty.

++++

Glancing up from your paperwork and into your supervisor's office, you take note of his gravity-drawn shoulders that carry the weight of the world on them. He repeatedly picks up a stack of papers and then drops them back down atop his desk, covering his face with his hands.

"What do you think is going on up there?" Derek asks, pointing his pen in the direction of the office.

"I might have an idea. I'm going to go take my report; anyone else's done?" They all hand you their paperwork for you to deliver to the boss.

You hesitate to knock on his door but apprehensively do so anyways.

He invites you in. Your heart sinks as you approach his desk, able to get a closer look at his beaten expression. You always knew he was hiding pain behind his tough exterior, but now he wears it on the surface, most likely unintentionally.

Placing the paperwork on his desk, you notice the heading on the papers he was gripping tightly.

SUPREME COURT STATE OF VIRGINIA: MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT

Hotch's eyes move slowly, laboriously, to look at you as if it takes a concentrated effort to do so.

"Heartache is a real thing," you sympathize with him, "In fact, Reid even told me that a broken heart can show up on medical scans. When a heart breaks, your body and brain need time to recuperate. There's no set amount of time or remedy that will heal you. Don't set your expectations of yourself too high, and surround yourself with the people who love you."

His chin trembles, and his eyes flutter as he blinks back tears.

You turn to leave the room but look over your shoulder one last time, "We are all here for you, Hotch."

Just as you are about to shut the door, you hear him call out to you, "Y/L/N!"

His stare reveals a vulnerability you have had yet to see in him.

"Call me Aaron."

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[starpotionz]

Vibe Check

Rise! Leo x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Lots of Vibe checks, Leo being bad at feelings, smooches

All you could focus on was the smell of cancer coming from the little bottle next to you on the floor.

Leo was supposed to coming over later for your usual 'hang sesh' but until he got there you'd entertain yourself with painting your toenails.

I mean, you've been painting your toes the same color for 3 years now and you'll be damned if you stop now.

The quiet hum of your favorite playlist filled your otherwise empty apartment. You were about to paint your last toe when your window busted open and you were tackled by a bag of cat food.

"VIBE CHECK" Leo screamed when he threw said cat food bag at you. You just stared at him, your brain trying to comprehend what the FUCK just happened until you noticed 1. The ruined nail polish on your toes and 2. The fucking bottle was tipped over and nail polish covered your rug.

"Leo what the fuck! You- I- Wha MNAGABA!" You jumped up and punched his arm hard. Leo kept laughing as he gripped his hurt arm, you were so funny when you were so mad you couldn't even speak english.

"Leo you've vibe checked me NINE TIMES THIS WEEK! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!" You fumed, you were pissed he's been vibe checking you almost every day. At first it was funny, but after the 6th vibe check you were ready to beat him with pipe.

He smirked at how red your face was getting. 'God they're so cute when they're mad' he thought feeling a little blush rise to his cheeks.

You see, Leo had a crush on you. A BIG crush on you, like I'm in love crush. And him being the insecure jokester type guy he is he always chickens out of telling you. He'd being trying for 2 weeks but he gets super nervous and ends up vibe checking you instead.

Yes he knows it's stupid that instead of telling you his feelings he vibe checks you, but come on! He's a 14-yr old boy who has very bad anxiety and has only ever had 1 human friend before! Give him a break.

Leo just watched as you picked up the bag of unopened cat food looking around your apartment for somewhere to put it.

He reached out to help but you swatted his hands away. You huffed tossing it into your broom closet.

"Hey Y/N why don't we watch a movie and make milkshakes with everything in them?" He sing-songed batting his non-existent lashes at you. You walked right past him ignoring his question.

"Whaa- hey Y/N don't be like that I was just kidding!" Leo whinned catching up with your fast paced steps. He kept whinning trying to get your attention but you wouldn't budge.

You kept giving him the silent treatment, you knew it was cruel but he deserved it. If Leo was gonna keep injuring you everytime he came over then he would just have to stop coming over..

"Y/N please you know I can't the sile-" Your cold stare cut him off. He's never seen you look so serious about well anything. In that moment he knew, he fucked up.

You left the room and came back with cleaning supplies going straight for the nail polish spill on your white fuzzy rug. Leo was speechless, you were legitimately pissed at him.

He didn't know what to do, he's never seen you so mad before. And it was at him! Leo knew he had to fix it but he didn't know how.

He spent 30 minutes staring at you scrubbing your carpet, his thoughts racing faster than they've ever had before. He noticed how hard you scrubbing, like you were trying to kill it, and it made him feel that much worse.

"Y/N I-I" Leo hesitated eyes glued to you still scrubbing the rug " I love you".

Time froze, heart stopped and breath ragged. You didn't even notice the tears falling until your sight was so foggy you couldn't see.

Leo's heart was in his throat, he knew it was a bad idea but him and his stupid mouth had to go-

He felt something warm and soft cover his lips. Gently, your hands cupped his cheeks as you stood your tip-toes to kiss him. Your hot tears getting Leo's face wet.

When it finally clicked that you were kissing him, he pulled you flush into him and kissed you like the world was ending.

You pulled away desperate for air and felt him wipe away your tears. Letting out a shakey breath, you opened up your eyes looking into Leo's dark irises.

"I love you too" You murmured as your eyes wandered his face. Leo leaned down and placed his snout in your neck. He smiled, this was by far the best day of his life.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I was just scared and-"

"Hey" You whispered cutting him off "It's ok. Just please no more vibe checks or I will kick you out". Leo nodded and crossed his heart.

He pulled you back in for another kiss, relishing the softness of your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him down so you didn't have to stand on your tip-toes.

Leo smiled into the kiss "Vibe Check" he muttered. You pinched his arm getting a yelp in response.

"HEY! I WAS KIDDING" You started laughing at him, Leo quickly joining you. Wrapping his arm around you, Leo pulled you into the kitchen to make milkshakes.

The rest of night your apartment was filled with laughter and sweet kisses as you and Leo enjoyed each other's company.

Yeah Leon babeh! Ain't he a cutie? I really enjoyed this and put effort so YAY! Should I start writing more angsty fluff, I'm open to opinions. I hope you saw the vine reference in this too👀.Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope y'all enjoyed 🤗. Up next on my radar is our emotionally unavailable bad boy, Donatello.

[savysavannah]

Challenge 1

Special thanks to @damian-schreave and @hadleyjaneharper for the rps.

Also the last section is not in fic format because its 2am, im lazy, and you get the gyst from the RP. Apperantly this is too long so part 2 soon.

    The Prince was off in Paloma for a bit so we were of little use in the Palace, no idea why they had us move in so early. Therefore, I’d spent most of the day with some books I’d grabbed from the library. Primarily they were legal books since it never hurts to brush up. But every once in a while, such as now I’d need to go and grab some food. 

I brought my notepad and a book on contract law with me and walked into the kitchen. There was another girl also in the kitchen. We haven't spoken to each other, she didn’t seem unfriendly or particularly awful company, just hadn’t really had the moment to. I grabbed a plate of fruit and wondered if she would say anything. After a moment I sat down and resumed reading. 

Then a small sad sigh came from the young woman who was looking down at her phone with a sad face. It wouldn’t be too bad if I took a break for some conversation. However, the young woman looked troubled, she may not be in the mood. I yawned and stretched then mumbled, but loud enough for her to hear, “God, I could use a drink.” and wondered if the other would take the bait. 

There was a beat before the other spoke, “Long day?”

“More or less. Lots of reading, missing work. How about yourself?”

She shrugged “Its...different than what I’m used to. Lots of sitting still when I’m used to spending my days moving around.” SHe grimaces then sighed, “The adjustment period is always the toughest, though.”

I thought for a moment trying to remember the occupations of the selected, “The dancer?” I asked. 

She grinned “Yeah. Hadley.” She raised an eyebrow, “And you?”

“Lawyer.” I said and stood from the table, walked over to Hadley and held her hand out, “Savannah Mars, Labrador, three.”

She shook my hand, “Nice to meet you.” then thought for a moment, “You said you were missing work? Do you work at a law firm?”

“Kinda. I work for the Illean Civil Liberties Union in their legal division. It's a non-profit which focuses on civil rights and for me civil legal cases. Lgbt+ rights defense, domestic defense, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, that’s really cool.” She said, seeming actually interested in my work. “Are you missing the casework, or something else?”

“It's pretty hard for me to step back from my work. Since I'm kind of left worrying about my clients. A new guy took over my cases but I'm trying to still work in my own way by studying up on some legal sections I work in less frequently but still may come up. Such as contract law.” I explained not fully hearing her other question. 

She nodded, “I understand, sort of. I’m left worrying about how my ballet company is going to perform, with somebody else taking over the role in the Nutcracker that I’ve had the past few years.”

“Yeah the transition really is nerve wracking. Have you seen them perform though?” I asked hoping that could at least provide some solace. 

“I’ve seen pictures on Instagram, but no videos yet. We were just finishing up our performance of Cinderella when I left. Nutcracker rehearsal started a few days after, but it’s a show we do each year, so... “ She sighed “ It /should/ be fine.”

I nodded, “well if they assigned them the role try and have faith in their qualifications. That's what I'm keeping in mind for mine. They did go to law school so it's fine. They got the role so it’s fine.” I said partially for her and partially for me. 

She sighed a little hesitant, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Competition is just gonna be a bitch and a half when I’m sent back.” She chuckled wryly.  

“Well maybe you'll win and then you won't have too. Who’s gonna take a role away from the future queen of Illea.”

“That’s extremely unlikely to happen.” She then almost smirked “What about you? If you win, nobody’s going to tell you no in a courtroom.”

I laughed, “If I win I'll kill myself.” Then I realized how dark that sounded, though it didn’t seem to phase her.

“I hate to say that I feel the same way, but…” She shrugged and nodded, “I feel the same way” For a moment I was confused, why would she join if she felt the same way? Then it clicked, a dancer would be a five, lower class, need the money.

“You're a five right? Did you apply for the money? If you don't mind my asking that is. It would just make sense why you'd dislike to win.” 

“It…” She bit her lip, “Kind of? It’s a long story involving a deadbeat mom, a shitty health care system, two starving artists, and a kid with leukemia.” She said with an apologetic smile. Whatever she’d be apologizing for I can’t say. 

“Well shit man, I'm glad you got in then. Both for the money and for a break from that. I know this society fucking sucks and we've got a likely shit for brains hier, but if you ever need a lawyer I'm here to help. Hopefully, being a three now will provide some help for you too.” I said then caught myself making a mental note to not be so vulgar with my language. 

She gave me a small smile, “Thanks. Now I just have to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life, after throwing my career into dance, only to become a Three.” She laughed, “What about you? Why did you enter? It sounds like you had a pretty cushy gig going on.”

It wouldn’t be smart to tell the truth, but lying when Hadley had been so open felt wrong, I sighed and said, “My brother. Basically he forged my entry and I didn't want him to get into legal troubles for that. He's a fucking idiot.” I sighed and let that last cuss word slide as he is a fucking idiot. 

She snorted, “Men really do only have two brain cells.” She gave a small smile, “I’m sorry that you ended up in that situation, though. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. I tried to beat him up but my other brothers stopped me. It was really a mess. Had to find out from a waitress asking for a photo with me.” 

She shook her head, “My best friend told me that he was so upset to see me, “throwing my life away,” as if I hadn’t entered to help him and his brother.” Sounds like an ungrateful ass. She sighed and looked down at her fruit, “When did life get this messed up?”

A question with too big of an answer. A bit panicked and not knowing what to say I took a strawberry off my plate and held it out to her, “Fruit?” 

She chuckled and took the strawberry, “Thanks.” She takes a bit, chews, and then pauses, looking at Savannah, “You know what I could really go for right now, though? A good gin and tonic.”

“God that'd be great. You know what, let's make some. One glass can't hurt.”

She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun. I’m down.” She looks around, “I know they keep the wine in that cabinet, but I haven’t found the liquor yet.”

After gathering our ingredients we get to work making the glasses, “so, what's your plan in all this?”

“In the selection?” She raises an eyebrow and then shrugs, she starts pouring things into the mixer bottle, “Stay here for as long as I can so I keep making stimulus checks, and then get sent home before I’m stuck spending the rest of my life here.” She finishes pouring and looks at Savannah, “You?”

I sighed, “about the same. Give the money to the non-profit I work for. I was hoping I could root for you to win, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders to influence him, but the more I think about it the more I realize that's like damning to hell.

She snorts, “Well, I still appreciate the compliment, and I would’ve said the same about you.” Then she sighs, “I’ve always known that it’s been like this, though. He gets to squander every penny he has on luxury shit, whereas my paychecks…” another sigh, “But life isn’t fair.”

“Yeah. And then waste the money on useless shit and trying to pass dumb laws like making 'cats' illegal instead of actually fixing the problems in this country.” I said and poured myself a glass of the drink.

She poured some for herself and then shook her head with an eye roll, “Don’t even get me started on that debacle. Why even joke about things like that?”

“Because he doesn't comprehend how the people of his own country are suffering. He's just so blind with privilege. Not that I have much to speak on but at least I freaking try to think about others in the country and their situations.”

She gave me a small smile, “You didn’t seem like the type to blow your money on worthless things to me, at all. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him when we have that interview in a few days.”

“Yeah I think im just gonna be polite for the sake of not causing a scene that'll haunt me my whole life” I said and took a sip, then clarified, “polite though, not kind.”

She nodded then drank too, “I really went from putting on one type of show for Twos to another.” 

“Any idea what you're gonna do as a three?” I asked.

She pursed her lips and shook her head, “I haven’t taken a science or maths class since I was eleven, and I don’t have the money for university. I guess I could work as a translator, or if that doesn’t work out, marry a five and go back to dancing.” She took another sip of her drink, “Hopefully I’ll be here long enough to figure it out.”

“Do they not have like threes who are dance teachers? I haven't really looked much into the area myself but it may make sense.”

She shook her head, “For me, at least, it was mostly Russian immigrants who were former dancers themselves, so Fives.”

I thought for a moment, “Well if you ever need history lessons, english, or legal aid I'm around. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a business card, since it’s not like either of us plan to be here long,  “Just all the way up in Labrador. Where are you from again?”

“Allens. So, not too far. Thanks.” She replied and looked at the card.

“Welcome.” I replied, finished off my drink then wrote down another idea. 

Hadley narrowed her eyes curiously, “What are you writing?”

“Just an idea for a proposition with the ICLU. There are probably other girls in a similar situation as you being lower caste now upper be it through marriage or selection, it may be helpful to talk about implementing a caste readjustment program.”

She lifted her head, smiling just a little, “That sounds like a great idea.” Then a little quieter she added,  “I'd appreciate it.” 

“Hopefully my boss will agree and pass it onto the innovation department. I'll write a quick memo about it to her later.” I smiled happy to have something to do.

“You really love your job, don't you?” She asked. 

I nodded, “It makes me feel like I have some kinda purpose. As cheesy as that is to say.” Making actual change in Illea instead of just prancing around doing whatever else I could have grown up to do. 

“No, I get that.” She looked down, “As a kid, I never really felt like I belonged, but on the stage, dancing?” She looked a little distant, “Standing out was a good thing.”

I nodded,  “Mhm. Have you thought of ways you could continue working while at the palace?”

She smiled, “Actually, I had a conversation with Prince Eaton about that, and I’ve been able to work out a schedule that allows me to still practice, even though I have to do a little more work to catch up on lessons.”

“That'll be good. If you wanted too you could put on a performance and donate the profits. That way you could be working towards a goal too instead of general practice.”

She tilted her head, “That's an interesting idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I nodded, “Well it was nice meeting you, Lady Hadley. But it is probably time for me to get back to work.” Then held out my hand to shake goodbye.

She took it, giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you too.”

It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time I was escorted to the interview room. Damian was in a navy blue suit jacket, dress pants, and a white button up shirt. He smiled at me as I got closer.  His eyes flicker to my nametag for a second before he speaks, “Hello, Lady Savannah. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

I smiled trying to stay polite, then gave a small curtsy, “The same to you, your highness.”

He smiled back, taking a few steps back and gestured for me to go into the interview room. In the room is a sofa, surrounded by stage lights and a few cameras, what a romantic first meeting. There is one camera on a swivel stand, that is currently focused on Damian and I. He starts walking into the room, looking at me as he talks, "How have you found your first few days here, so far?"

I debated giving him a short one word answer of 'fine' but Danny's words of 'don't ruin your own happiness" slipped into my head. "They've been fine. I've enjoyed your library. It's helped me feel like I can in some ways continue working by catching up on legal matters normally outside of my areas of expertise."

He nodded while smiling then took a seat on the sofa, "So you're a lawyer, then? What kind of law do you practice?"

Reluctantly I sat next to him, hopefully I wouldn't catch an STD from proximity alone, "Yes, I practice primarily civil and criminal law with the Illean Civil Librities Union. So primarily defending people who are in bad situations due to outdated laws which need amending." My tone came out more passive aggressive than intended, but it was slightly justified as he should have been working to amend said laws and help people instead of partying.

"That's a great thing, to be doing. What got you into law?"

"Well I was at the University of Labrador. My best friend I'm the sorority I was in decided to go to a protest over women's rights in illea. We went, someone man came and antagonized some women, she defended herself verbally, got arrested, felt up by the officer, then was unable to do anything legally about it. I felt that was unfair so I decided to look into being a lawyer, liked the process, graduated in 2 years, went to Yale and here I am." 

He lets out a low whistle, looking down for a second. I couldn't help but be a but prideful at my accomplishment, then looks back up at me, more serious than before, his jaw tense, "I'm really sorry that happened to your friend." He said and fell silent. What a conversation killer. 

"It's fine." I said trying not to dwell on it, "How was your time in undergrad? Partied a lot, I saw." I said the passive agressiveness coming out again. 

He smiled, a little more relaxed than before, but not as relaxed as he was when he first entered the room, "I enjoyed my last few years of freedom before entering the real world, yes." He then raised his eyebrows, grinning a little wider, kind of teasing, "And what about you? Being in a sorority and all, I doubt you were much of a homebody yourself." 

I couldn't help but completely flush and bit down my urge to absolutely smack him upside the head. "It was a brief phase. It was fun. But also a waste of time." I chuckled a bit remembering my airheaded behavior in that year, "had I already been working harder I may have been able to finish faster and help more people."

He grinned a little at how flustered I was, which just made me want to punch him more, then smiled a little more genuinely towards the end, "We're still young. We have our whole lives to keep fixing things."

i frowned, "That isn't true. We never know when we're going to die. Something could always happen so we should be trying to help as much as we can. Not to mention while we" I paused after my slip of the tongue, but didn't correct it "partied in undergrad people were suffering who could have been helped."

There's a flicker of a frown on his face when I mentioned how short life is, but he lets it go, tilting his head when he looks at me, "We can't save everyone. That's impossible. We can try to do as much as we can, but there will always be more people in need of help.

"Partying isn't trying."

He raised his eyebrows, "You didn't even know you wanted to be a lawyer, back when you were partying in college."

I got kinda flustered again, he's right, there's no logically sound way to win. Yeah but I should have, I wish I had. Would have made the time a lot less regrettable." I said then cleared my throat, "Though, this is a bit of a heavy topic for our first meeting, don't you agree? Your- Damian." I barely corrected myself from saying Your Highness.

He chuckled, "A bit, but it's different from the surface level talk about work and provinces." He inclined his head, "Though, if you think about it, you never would have discovered your passion for law if you hadn't joined your sorority." He shrugged and gave a stupid grin which made me blush even more. 

Finally I snapped and turned to point a finger at him, "You won okay. I can't regret something if I didn't know to do something better, but that doesn't make topless jello shots any less of an embarrassing memory." I exclaimed then heard what I said and wished to curl into a ball and die. 

He chuckled a little, "We all have our moments. It's okay."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door then, and a guard pokes his head in. Damian nods at him, then turns and looks at me, "Unfortunately, we'll have to exchange stories another time. It appears our time today is up."

I sighed in relief at my rescue, then mumbled under my breath, "Thank God." I stood to curtsy, "Your-" I cringed a bit at the error, "Damian."

He chuckled again, "It was a pleasure to meet you Savannah. Until next time." He smiled at me when we got to the door, and stopped in the doorway.

I smiled back politely, "Thank you for the conversation. Till next time." 

*savy was taking a break from her work and decided to out for a walk in the gardens. She had always been a fan of taking runs when stressed snd the gardens were providing a peaceful alternative. She was walking around when she thought she saw a bunny in the bushes. Being the gal she is she wanted to see it closer so she stepped off the path and walked into the gravel. Immediately her heel sank in the gravel. She lost her balance for a moment but didnt fall. Instead she panicked. She debated stepping out of her shoes to get it out but she didnt wanna hurt her skin on the gravel. Instead she tried to wiggle it loose and hopped no one was near*

*rip savannah, but Damian is out distressing by playing basketball at that point in time, and from where he's standing as he shoots this basket, he can see someone clearly struggling with something in the gardens. he can't see who it is, or what the problem is, but he figures he should go check it out. he tucks the basketball under one arm, jogging towards the person he can see, calling out* Hey, everything okay?

*savannah hears him call out an knows immediately it's the last person in the world she'd want to find her like this* Absolutely peachy! *calls back and debates ditching the shoes*

*he slows to a stop when he gets closer, his eyes going from savannah's face to her foot* Mmm, looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a sticky situation, there.

*is extremely flustered* no situation at all. I said I'm fine. *aggressively wiggles the heel and almost trips so she squeaks but manages to catch herself*

*when he sees her almost trip, he lunges forwards to catch her before she hits the ground, but then she catches herself, so he's like "oh was that for nothing?" he looks down at the shoe, furrowing his brows, thinking* Here, let me help with that, before you actually fall.

I'm not going to fall and I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of defeating some gravel on my own

*he takes a step back* Alright... if you insist... *hes not going anywhere, just watching her, waiting to see what she'll do*

*huffs when she doesnt hear him walk away and continues to wiggle then huffs when shes not getting anywhere* Fine. If you're just going to stand there anyways you may as well help.

*he chuckles, setting the basketball down on the ground, kneeling down to look at the gravel and the heel, before beginning to dig the heel out with his fingers* Not the best shoes to walk off the path in.

*rolls her eyes* I didn't think about that. I thought I saw a bunny and got distracted

*he can't help but raise his eyebrows at that, grinning, twisting the heel a little to unscrew it from the gravel* Was it at least a cute bunny?

*his tone is a little teasing*

It was cute, be careful with your tone though when your face is near my foot. *once its free she steps back on the path so she doesn't sink again*

*he chuckles, joking* What, are you planning on giving me a royal nose job with your shoe?

You could probably use one. *offers a hand to help him stand back up*

*he picks up his basketball, taking her hand, still grinning at her, teasing* Maybe it's just the angle you've been looking at it from.

*stands on her tiptoes looking at his nose* Nope. It's a little off. Nose job it is.

*she pinches his nose* its a big flaw. Doubt you'll be able to get a wife like that

*he chuckles* I don’t know, my nose has never gotten in my way before

*considers* You're right, I'm sure that was just your sense of responsibility that got in the way.

*he raises his eyebrows* You know, I’ve never turned in an assignment late, or anything for work late. Never asked for an extension.

I somehow find that doubtful. Your reputation of being a loose partier precedds that of a responsible duitiful person.

Well, it’s the truth. *he shrugs* If you’re really curious, you could email my professors. It’s all about finding a balance. *he smiles*

*grumbles because he seems to be honest about it* What did you even study?

I dual majored in political science and marketing. You?

*sighs in relief* at least you werent a buisness major. Political Science and History for me on a prelaw track.

*he nods, smiling, genuinely curious* Did you prefer one over the other?

Probably political science. I mean I love history it's why I added it. For fun since it's just like learning stories and seeing the modern day impact of said stories. But political science felt more efficient. Like it helped me have a better understanding of the philosophy of political thinking which has helped me a lot in law. Plus I just liked the professors more.

*he smiles* Understandable. Good professors make it so much easier to learn the content

*smiles* yeah and lots and lots of highlighters. Did you have a favorite topic in political science?

*grinning* I took a really cool course on comparative political economies - I really like the economic side of things. That, and the classes I had to take on international politics. *he looks over at savannah* What about you?

Probably civil politics. I've always been a fan of civil work. I honestly thought about working for the AFEI instead of the ICLU but decided I wanted to do more personal legal work than policy legal work. But it's always been the work that has interested me more since it's important to bring up civil conflicts within the country and try to help as much as possible. But learning about where we came from in terms of The United States vs the civil policies of Illea was an interesting course for me, especially because of the overlap of History and Political Science.

*he nods as she talks, thinking that all over* I think work guided what classes I liked as well. Because beyond national politics, I also have to think about international politics, trade agreements, and maintaining Illéa’s position in the world.

*seems slightly surprised* so you actually liked your major? I assumed you just were kinda forced to pick it

I was kind of forced to, but I could still pick the classes that interested me more. *He shrugs* Plus I really enjoyed my marketing major.

*thinks for a moment* Can I ask you something and have an honest answer? No bullshit PR answer. I'm just trying to figure out if we can trust you to be our future king through this, at the very least.

Sure *he nods, pursing his lips a little* Ask away.

Do you actually want to be the king of this country? Like aside from the perks you have from it, do you care about the work?

I do care. *he pauses, swallowing* I really do. It’s just...it’s a lot of pressure to accept from a young age.

*she thinks for a moment* Noted. Thank you for your honesty. *Looks at the basketball* Do you play much?

*he smiles kind of sadly* Not as much as I used to. I’ve gotten a little busy helping to run the country, and such.

*gets an idea* Do you wanna make a bet with me?

*he grins* Depends on what it is

Basketball. I'm working on a program right now with the ICLU, a coworker wants to come visit me and discuss about it but appreantly work visits aren't allowed during this. If I can get more hoops in you'll arrange that?

*he furrows his brows* Better yet, I could just organize for your coworker to visit under the guise of another event going on. Just give me a few weeks to work out the details.

*kinda chuckles because shes competitive* oh? Youre scared you'll lose? But if that's what you prefer

*he laughs* No, I just know I’d win, and I’d hate to deny you the ability to see your coworker

Fine. You'll set up the meeting, then I'll just prove to you that I would win had their beem stakes.

*he narrows his eyes at her, extending a hand to shake, still grinning* Deal

*shakes it firmly then kicks off her heels planning to walk to the court barefoot.* Would be an unfair advantage for me to still be in them

*he raises his eyebrows* Why, they helped square up the height difference between us, at the very least *he chuckles*

*almost elbows him over that but barely stops herself* I don't need that help. I'm perfectly capable of crushing you independent of my shoes

*he laughs* I played basketball in uni, you know?

As did I. Well- not in a club. A guy who I was *ponders for a moment* acquainted with, played it therefore I played with him and his friends fairly often

*he raises his eyebrows* And how tall was your acquaintance? Because I’m used to playing with people my height, but also my mom and sister, who are - *he puts his hand somewhere around his shoulder because they’re 5’4” and 5’5”* - about this tall

He was around 6'3. His friends the same or more. Don't worry I'm well aware of the disadvantage of my height and very prepared to utilize it

*he chuckles* Oh, I’ve got to see this. *when they get to the court he starts dribbling the ball casually, walking towards the middle of the court* Do you want to start with the ball, or should I?

*thinks for a moment and puts her shoes down on the edge of the court and rolls up the bottoms of her dress pants a bit* You can start with it.

*he raises his eyebrows at her rolling up her dress pants, but he nods* Okay, if you insist. *he waits until he’s ready before starting the play*

*she walks up prepared to steal since she cant block*

*he starts dribbling more seriously, quickly maneuvering around her, taking three large steps with the ball, and then shoots a basket, and it goes in*

*she kinda huffs about that dislikes. But once he has the ball again she tries again, this time getting it and doing her UNDER THE LEGS MOVE AND SHOOTS*

*he turns around, a little in shock* That is not a legal move!

Hmmm *puts her finger to her chin very smug* I dont think it explicitly says in the rules that you're not allowed too. You use your height I'll use mine *VERY SMUG*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best 2 out of 3? Whoever gets this next shot wins, then

*SHES BEING COCKY NOW* Aw is the wittle princey calling it quits so soon? His fragile ego damaged? *bats her eyes teasingly*

*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best three out of five, then. *he starts dribbling the ball right from here he is, and it’s a long shot to his basket from there, but he’s pretty confident, so he goes for it, and somehow it actually goes in. he raises his eyebrows at her* Still think you’re gonna win?

*crosses her arms* That was luck. *goes to get the ball since shes closer*

Or just sheer skill. *he smirks a little*

*turns to face him just to roll her eyes and gets the ball. She then dribbles it back to the middle or something idk how basketball works*

*he follows her to the middle, standing in front of her, knees bent in that “ready” position idk wtf it’s called lmao*

*that position makes knees wide so she dribbles and goes to do her fast under the leg move again*

*he sees it coming this time, and takes a few steps back, keeps his arm in front of him to reach for the ball, which he gets, and then dribbles across to the the hoop he has to score in, taking the shot, and watching it go in again. he grabs the ball as it bounces back up, raising his brows at savannah* One more, or are you good? *he grins a little*

*huffs again and crosses her arm* Fine we'll call it at 3 to 1. But in my defense it's been awhile.

*he grins* Well, you’re always welcome to practice out here with me, if you want.

I can't tell if you're being taunting or not *rolls her eyes and walks up to him then holds out her hand to shake for the end of the game*

*he takes her hand and shakes, then gives her a genuine smile* No taunting. I mean it. I’d love to have someone new to play with.

I'll consider it then. I am getting slightly bored of your homes running path for exercise.

*smiles back even tho she doesnt wanna because it was a nice offer*

*he tilts his head from side to side* Yeah, the running trail through the gardens is kind of short. There are better ones /in/ Angeles, if you ever want to check them out

Not sure I'm allowed to just waltz on out of here, but I'd love the names of any you know. My grandmother lives near her so I'm sure I'll be visiting soon enough after this if not immediately so.

*he shrugs* I could also drive you sometime, if you want. I /do/ have a car.

*seems a bit surprised* You know how to drive?

*he furrows his brows* Of course! I got my license as soon as I was legally allowed to.

But its not like you need too? Don't you have like drivers?

*he looks a little confused and taken aback* I’m sure some exist, but why would I want someone else to drive me when I could be free and drive myself?

I'm not sure. I just know rich people, like for example my cousin *mumbles for a moment to find the phrasing* So my grandmother is in charge of the Mars Candy Corporation. My mom's older brother Nathaniel will be taking over it, his kids also my cousins all have drivers. They're like twenty something now but Jackson is always bragging about how he doesn't have to take the effort to drive himself places. I just assumed other people who could afford them would have them, especially busy people who could work instead of drive.

*he blinks* Wow, I never even would have considered that. *he shakes his head* No, I like driving. Being able to roll the windows down and blast the music...it’s like a few moments of freedom. *he shrugs, smiling a little sadly*

*she noticed the smile then something clicks* so freedom is your vice. You act out to feel free, thus the partying. You mentioned earlier the responsibility of being a prince being am influence on the partying. A lack of freedom makes sense. *she knows shes getting too personal but her curiosity and worry for the future gets the best of her* But what does that mean you're going to do when you're king? You'll have even less. How do you plan to maintain that restriction without bursting and needing freedom?

*he stiffens a little at her analysis because damn it’s spot on, but sighs towards the end* Getting as much out of life as I can now. I always knew what my future held for me. So I can plan accordingly. *he forces a small grin, trying to joke* Besides, with any luck, I’ll be old and almost out of energy by the time I’m king.

*furrows her eyebrows concerned* That doesn't work. *sighs* Believe me I'd know. But we aren't wired to run off memories. Instead we develop habits and coping mechanisms. Everyone snaps from time to time, you'll go back to what made you happy last. For you I assume that'll be partying. Which is something you can't do as king, and assuming it wont be till your old isn't right either, regardless of if that was a joke it's not something that you can lean on since millions of people could be relying on you and you'd be unprepared. You are going to be king, You are not going to have freedom, you are going to be under immense pressure and responsibility, honest answer, what are you going to do when you need to snap?

*he narrows his eyes at her, this time more out of irritation than anything else, and he’s a little sarcastic* Gee, thanks for the reminder. Though, for the record, I /haven’t/ partied since uni, and I have no plans to in the near future. So perhaps I’ll rely on my other coping mechanism, such as basketball, or taking a drive.

Yeah well it's the truth and uni wasn't that long ago. It's hard to break habits. I mean I partied like 4 times a month in undergrad and I still use it. That was forever ago but that's not how humans work. You're gonna lean on what you've leaned on. You're going to get shitfaced, you're going to want what you used to have, you're gonna idolize those times in uni and want them back. But you're not going to have it and it's going to be hard and shitty but you have to tough it out because of the country that relies on you and this is proving to me that you're not going to be a reliable King for the people who need you.  

[justkpopjokes]

Nerd!Wonwoo × Jock!Lin

AU: high school

Genre: fluff but lowkey crack

Pairing: SVT × OC

A/N: Sorry if this is hard to read, it started out as a joke but I ended up writing 2k words asjfhl I might as well post and clear this from my drafts

NOTE: not important, but although Lin is my nickname, I think of this "Lin" as more of an OC based off of me rather than actually me lol

When yours truly was a smol child, I was basically a stereotypical jock:

great at (multiple) sports and bad at math

so I realized that of CoURsE this version of Lin must be a character

bc poor Jock!Lin isn't going to pass her classes without a tutor

During the first semester of junior year, Lin had a serious talk with her math teacher

he said she needed a tutor because her recent test scores were incredibly low

so they paired her up with a classmate that could help her with math

and English because “they might as well help you with your other classes too”

That person happened to be… Wonwoo

tbh, Wonu only agreed to do it because it would look good and give him extra credit points

The thing is he doesn't like jocks,,, actually just this one specifically

they had some classes together in the past, and although they aren’t enemies or anything, they aren’t friends either

Wonwoo thinks Lin is just one of those jocks that are already set to get sports scholarships, so they don’t need to worry about grades

they’re just people who don’t really mix well together

He also thinks Lin's annoying to tutor bc she can't focus without rambling every 6 minutes

he's a very patient guy, yet somehow she manages to push him over the edge every study session

mainly because she doesn’t hear half of what he’s saying so she asks him to repeat everything

it ticks him off, but what can he do?

He can’t really make an excuse to not go to their tutor sessions because she knows he’s the type of guy to always hang out in the library or computer lab after school

but ngl if she doesn’t show up because of soccer practice, he’s relieved

Lin has her own pet peeves abt Wonu tho

first of all he talks quietly which is annoying because she can’t hear or comprehend anything he says

and then he just sighs whenever she asks him about something he already explained

she can tell he’s not trying to be rude, but it’s not super encouraging either

“Lin could you not ramble about your soccer practice right now? We need to focus—”

“Well excuse me, Mr. I'll-tutor-this-dumb-jock-for-extra-credit, maybe you’re making everything more difficult than it needs to be!”

“I swear t—wait what did to just call yourself dumb?”

“I'm a dumb jock who can't do math, can't start an essay, can't… all I can do is kick around a ball for hours, what's that gonna get me? A scholarship?”

“Yes…?”

“Barely anyone gets a sports scholarship from our school. I won’t unless I do exceptionally well in all my sports seasons”

That's when Wonwoo's heart drops a little at how much this girl didn't believe in herself

like?? She doesn't even believe in her soccer playing?? And she's really good at soccer???

he knows that feeling of self-doubt all too well.

WW: “Listen… Lin… you're really good at soccer. If anyone's going to get a scholarship in this school, it's going to be you.”

L: “How do you know, nerd?”

WW: “Because I've seen you play.”

L: “You have?”

WW: “Yeah. During PE last year. You were really good then, so you’re probably better now.”

L: “Oh… thanks? That doesn't help me with math though.”

*sigh*

WW: "You know what? You should rest your brain. We’ll end early today. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

Lin is lwk confused but thanks him and leaves for soccer practice

her teammates are kinda ???? bc she’s not supposed to go to practice on Mondays

but whatever, she’s here now, that’s what’s important

She’s skeptical though when it happens again the next week

it’s kind of odd to Lin though since Wonwoo doesn’t seem like the type of person to just… do that

like yeah he probably doesn’t want to see her face any longer than he needs to, but he could also get in trouble if he doesn’t tutor her

so when he shows up to her practice on Friday, she’s even more confused

she didn’t even notice him lmao it was one of her teammates

“Hey Lin isn’t that guy your tutor? Wonwoo?”

Lin looks over and there’s Wonwoo waiting at the edge of the soccer field with his hands in his pocket

he waves and she jogs over to him during their water break while re-tying her hair

Wonwoo's lowkey blushing bc dang ok look at u go

Lin’s like oh crap was there a special tutor session I forgot abt???

but Wonwoo’s chill and says she doesn’t need to go to their sessions for the next week

when she begins to question him, he just says “Jeonghan said you have a big game next week, so you should be practicing for that.”

Lin’s really relieved since it was the game that decided whether they would compete in the tournament that year

So Wonu gets to relax that next week while Lin competes with her team!!

it’s a chill week for him, but the following week’s tutoring sessions start off rocky

Lin doesn’t seem able to focus and Wonwoo regrets letting her off last week

“Lin, I know I cancelled last week’s sessions, but you gotta focus now, okay?”

Lin just nods and turns her attention back to whatever the textbook is open to

Now although they aren’t friends, Wonu’s concerned abt her

he voices these concerns to his best friend Jihoon who has an explanation

“Didn’t they lose the game last week? Maybe that’s bumming her out.”

then it clicks for Wonwoo that they won’t be in the tournament :((

When Lin walks into the library to their usual table on Wednesday, Wonwoo doesn’t have anything out on the table

so she’s like “uhhhh are we not studying today??”

“Nah, let’s get boba!”

Lin is at a loss for words, so Wonwoo just stands up, grabs her wrist. and drags her out of the library

he takes her to the mall and buys boba so she feels better :’)

for once, the two of them chat for a while about non-academic things!

By the end of the day, Wonwoo has taught Lin barely anything about math

but he’s finally on better terms with her :D

She even waves to him in the hallway now!!

Jihoon is surprised lmao “did she just… she just acknowledged you, wow.”

they’re able to get along a bit better now that they’ve both realized that, yknow, maybe they do mix well together

Lin doesn’t need to go to practice as often since they don’t have any more huge soccer games, and her other sports don’t start until the second semester

So before you know it,

L: “WONU I GOT A B+ ON MY TEST!! LET'S GET ICE CREAM!!!”

WW: “Wait no, we should go over what you got wrong.”

L: “...Wonwoo I—please? I worked hard????”

WW: “Alright fine—”

L: “heCK YES”

And sO this little ice cream run becomes Lin's celebratory gift from Wonwoo whenever she gets a significantly improved grade on a test

*cue the epic montage of Lin actually improving her grades omg*

By the end of the first semester, she's got all B's and A's, a great improvement

Wonwoo takes her on their ice cream run again as a reward for studying hard

They just sit on a bench at the park for a little while

Finally, Wonwoo brings up the question:

WW: “So… Do you think you can manage without me?”

L: “Manage my grades? I mean… I don't know. Did you—were you planning to stop tutoring me?”

WW: “Technically I was only supposed to tutor you for one semester.”

L: “Oh yeah. Well… I guess I could? I think my grades would be fine. Definitely not all A's, but still passing.”

WW: “Alright. You can always ask for help, okay?”

L: “Yeah…”

WW: “Something wrong?”

L: “I guess I'm going to miss our ice cream date-things, haha”

WW, internally: holy crap date things??????

WW: “Mmmhm.”

oh my god save these awkward beans

after that, Wonwoo just wishes Lin good luck and they part ways

During his second semester, Wonwoo finally has some free time after school

it's peaceful; he doesn't have to go to the library/computer lab all the time (though ofc he does anyway bc he wants to read)

he still waves to Lin when they see each other ofc

But one day she stops waving?

he doesn't even see her so he's v confused

once he finally starts to spot her in the halls again, her head is always down and she bumps into people

so he wonders why she's so gloomy all of a sudden

that is, until Jihoon casually mentions that “maybe it's because she got kicked off her sports teams”

Wonwoo goes into big brother mode so fast—

he finds her sitting at their park bench after school, staring at someone who just bought ice cream at the corner store

Then Lin spots Wonwoo walk out with an ice cream package and panics

she tries to avoid eye-contact and pulls up her hood so he hopefully doesn't recognize her

sorry hun, plan didn't work :)))

Wonwoo walks up and hands her the opened ice cream

“No, I don't…”

“Just eat it.”

Lin refuses again, so Wonwoo just shrugs and takes a bite of the chocolate outer layer

WW: “I heard you got kicked off the spring sports teams.”

L: “Who told you that?”

WW: “My friend Jihoon”

L: “I didn't get kicked off, I quit.”

WW: “What?? Why?!”

L: “My grades have been lowered a bit—not as bad as before, don't worry—so I thought I should try to make more time to study.”

WW: “Oh… I thought you wanted to prioritize sports though? So you can get that scholarship?”

L: “I'm not getting that scholarship Wonwoo, it's not worth my time… can I have some of that ice cream now?”

Wonwoo just chuckles and hands it to her

Maybe a bit too quickly though, because it hits her in the face

gr8 now she has ice cream dripping off her cheek and onto her jacket

great job Wonu👏

“Crap—I'm so sorry, hold this, I'll clean you up…”

Wonwoo pulls out some tissues and scooches closer to Lin, then wipes her face really gently as to not irritate her

Lin's actually really touched at how considerate he is lol

after he throws the tissue, Wonu comes back and sits directly beside her :)))

Lin decides to make the first move, but ofc she doesn't explain everything she's thinking ahAHA

so there's basically no buildup and she ends up startling the poor boy lmaooooo

L: "Do you know that new cafe that opened up in the mall?"

WW: "Yeah, what about it?"

L: "I was wondering if you wanted to… go there together and try some cake? I heard they have tiramisu! Is that a good idea for a first date?"

Wonwoo goes into lowkey panic mode lmfao

WW: "A date?????"

Lin's kinda *wait shoot* at his reaction like "I mean! It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be!!"

WW: "Wait no!! I mean—ye—wait—whATEVER! I want to go on a date with you!!!"

…and like snatches her hand and holds it really tight

L: "Really??"

Wonwoo nods cutely so Lin smiles and eats some of the ice cream before handing it back to him

they savour both the moment and the ice cream :')

And before you know it, these 2 awkward teens are holding hands and walking home while trying to recite math formulas

Segway to end of the year~

since she's taking a break from sports, Lin's able to get almost all A's by the end of the year!!

she definitely still plays soccer with her bf on the weekends, but lemme tell you—

it takes a lot of persuasion to get Wonwoo out of the library and onto the field

These two asfldjh they're so helplessly in love but so awkward abt it so they just exchange lil smooches if there's an awkward silence

it happens so often that it's a competition now

when there's an awkward silence, the first person to give the other a kiss somewhere on their face gets a point

the person w/less points at the end of the week has to buy ice cream or whatever treat they decide to have lol

Lin is always winning bc this cheesy flirt is too quick for Wonu, who's too used to silence

he sometimes loses on purpose tho bc he gets cheek kisses uwu

lol just imagine them waiting at the bus stop quietly

and Lin leans over to kiss Wonu's cheek before leaning back

and you just hear a tiny "dammit" from Wonu LMAO

Senior year rolls around and Wonwoo manages to persuade Lin to do sports again

it sucks seeing his gf just waste her talents

He had a whole spiel about how “grades aren’t everything!! go be cool babe” and so Lin joined soccer again with a ton of motivation

and they actually make it to the tournament that year!!

Wonwoo’s cheering her on from the sidelines

even better, their school wins the tournament!!

it’s a happy day of celebration and boba for them

but whenever she doesn’t have sports, these 2 are that quiet couple that stay in the library

now it's Lin's turn to tutor someone: a friend she makes when Wonwoo is sick at home

((which, fyi, she called him like 2 separate times during the school day and again once she got home bc she missed her bf awww))

Anyway she made this freshman friend who she helped with history

she basically adopts this small child

so when Wonwoo’s back she's just like “hey this is ur dad, say hi fatherrrrr”

“Hi fatherrrrrrr”

WW: “smh lin this is why I can’t be sick, you go on adopting kids without me”

L: “babe you’re going to help me tutor this kiddo regardless of whether you want to or not”

Can I just??? Be soft for a sec?? hold on

Wonwoo loves standing behind Lin and burying his face in her neck/shoulder

vice-versa if Wonwoo is sitting down

Ugh just… these 2 together… they legit are always connected somehow

either one of the above situations or Lin is hugging his arm, or his arm is on her shoulder or pockets

dude legit can't keep his hands to himself—

Jihoon is always fed up with the PDA but he tolerates it

it's like.

u see these two w/their pda

and then some dude on his phone trailing behind them

sometimes w/Linwoo's child stumbling along like “Jihoon can I listen to ur song again??? Isn't your SoundCloud WooziUn—”

“Lin, pls, shut ur child up before they expose my online identity”

At the end of a successful senior year, Linwoo/Wonlin(?) graduate and set off for college

Lin doesn’t get a sports scholarship, just like she expected

but she does get accepted into a college near Wonwoo’s

so these two are still able to exchange smol kisses when they don’t have class :’)

and that’s the end of this lil pairing who learned that hey, maybe jocks and nerds can mix well together!!

[distrackles]

Resistance: Part 2

Dean Winchester x OFC

MASTERLIST

Loathe /verb/ : feel intense dislike or disgust for.

- B o -

My wrists were raw, and my arms finally stopped buzzing with pins and needles and have gone to no feeling at all. Except for the fact that the dead weight of them felt even heavier. Any blood on my skin was now dry and crusted into patches. The room was silent, but it made me feel less alone than I would with sound. I guess it turned out that Sam and I were slightly underestimating how many vampires were in the nest. I can briefly remember sneaking into the old home with Riley slightly behind me. I can still hear her yelling out for me when I had my back turned. I still feel the scrapes around my waist and the grip marks up and down my torso from where I struggled against the son of a bitch. Despite all of that, I am unable to shake the anxiety of not knowing if Riley is okay. Without being able to resist the pain surrounding me, my brain decides to end its thought process, and it's lights out.

- D e a n -

I didn't know what time it was when Sam was repeatedly pushing me to wake up. At first, his voice sounded muffled and far away, but as the words started to comprehend in my mind, I was wide awake.

"What did you just say?" I bark out at him with the gruff voice sleep tends to give me. Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes, he must have figured I hadn't been totally aware the whole time he was speaking.

"Bobby called," He gives a pause to see if I'm really listening this time, he continues when I give a nod. "The girls, Bo and Riley, haven't called him back since before going into the vamp nest." I make a hand gesture to give off a "what is your point here?" message.

"Jesus Dean, he's worried about them, it's been a few days and he wants us to check everything out since we're closer." After that, it takes us about fifteen minutes to get on the road and back towards that small, dreadful town. Sam rattles off directions here and there to get us where we are supposed to be, and we are at our destination by the evening.

By the time we get ourselves quietly into the house we both know that there has to be multiple vampires in there just by sound. I gesture for Sam to go one way down the hall and I point towards the downstairs doorway that I am going down.

- B o -

I don't know how many hours or days I was out for, but when I wake up it is to the sound of clashing and a familiar voice yelling something along the lines of  "suck on this, you son of a bitch!". It was the first time I felt relieved to hear that voice. And it was also the first time I cracked a bit of a smile in however long we've been here.

I give several attempts at screaming, but it takes me a minute of swallowing a bunch before my throat is wet enough to speak. As soon as I get the chance, I yell out Dean's name. There is more crashing after I hear him call back to me. While I could only wait, I hoped that Sam had come along too, and that he was taking care of Riley because that would give me a second chance to get out of here. Not that I didn't believe Dean could handle this at all, but you never know. When the door finally creaked open, it happened so slow that I thought it was gonna be a vampire instead of Dean. But then I saw his face as he came closer, and it didn't look like the same cocky Dean that was content with himself that I had met days ago. His features were taut, eyebrows frowning at me, and his jaw protruding with how tight his teeth were clenched. In addition to that, he had the glistening crimson blood down the side of his face in contrast to his fair skin.

His hands go up to the ropes around my wrists, with a machete in one, and he cuts my arms down. I almost fall to my knees as soon as my feet hit the ground, but he was ready to catch me before that could happen. Wrapping one arm around the bottom of my back, he holds me up against him so he can untie the remaining rope attaching my hands together. Once they are separated and I have gained my footing back, he looks me over the same way Riley would do. His angry eyes search for any evident injuries that are in need of attention, but luckily none are visible, which saves me the extra embarrassment. He moves himself partially behind me, and rests a rather gentle hand on my back, nudging me to walk out of the room and up the stairs. His hand doesn't leave my back until we are outside and in sight of Riley and Sam.

Riley immediately leaves Sam's side and pulls me into an embrace that speaks louder than any words can describe. We both can tell each other that we're okay just by a single pat of the back or a squeeze of a shoulder.

"You're alright." Her statement comes out with a questioning undertone.

"We can talk about it when we get home." I say quietly to her. Riley nods and turns back to Sam and Dean. As she proceeds to thank them both, Dean is looking at me over her head, and I can't bring myself to look away. The only reason I do is because I hear Riley utter something about inviting them to stay at our house for the weekend.

"Yeah, that sounds easier than going all the way back to Kansas right away, Dean?" Sam asks, and the pressure of Dean's gaze is removed from my head. His reply is a simple shrug and nod. Our house was about an hour and a half away from the town that the nest was in, that's why Bobby called us about it. I figured the boys just heard about it from news articles. Riley parks her car in the single garage of our home and lets Dean park in the driveway. We head in through the door connected to the garage and I let Riley take on assigning Sam and Dean a place to crash, as I head upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. After ten minutes of me standing in the mirror with a sports bra and my dirty jeans on, someone knocks on the door. I straighten out from my twisted position that I was in from trying to see all of the scratches, and open the door.

Dean scratches the back of his neck and gestures behind him towards the stairs. "Sam offered to help Riley patch herself up and she let him, so I was wondering if you needed uh- help?" He shifts his weight from one leg to the other as I blink at him.

"I think I'm okay, thanks." I turn back towards the inside of the bathroom, and he sucks in a breath at the sight of my back. And I know he didn't do that because he was particularly attracted to my back, but because I could feel the dry feeling of old blood somewhere on there and he got the first view of the wound.

"How do you plan on patching that up on your own?" He questions amusedly and I shoot him a dark look.

"I'll figure it out." I say defensively and he laughs, taking a seat on the lidded toilet.

"I'd love to see that." He smirks, and I'm temporarily back to loathing him. I twist back around to try and position my back into view of the mirror, but also not too far to where I won't be able to turn my head to see it. With a quick glance in the glass, I can see Dean looking back at me, face still smeared with blood, but a goofy smile forming his lips.

"It's not funny." My voice is stern and offended at the same time. Dean stands up, goes to the counter-top, and picks up some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad.

"Didn't say it was." He defends himself, lifting the contents in his hand questioningly. I sigh and straddle the toilet seat, so he now has access to my back. First, he presses a wet washcloth to the wound to wipe away the blood, but when he starts applying the alcohol soaked cotton to it, I wince and hiss. Dean mutters an empty apology, and his arm comes over my head to the open cupboard above the toilet where the stitching material is.

"Need something to bite on?" He teases and I shake my head, and he starts stitching the wound together. It took a good ten minutes of whimpers held back in my throat until he finally finishes. I sense his lingering pause before he gets off his knees, and puts all of the medical supplies away.

"Thank you." I say quietly, only slightly hoping he didn't hear me, but he did. And when I move to leave the bathroom, he blocks me. Our bodies are very close to touching, they might as well be since I can feel his breath and body heat radiating off of him. I look up at him with a questioning look.

"That could have been an even closer call than it was, you know?" His amused face has changed back to the serious one he had hours ago. My head nods in agreement before he continues.

"I know that I already said we have some things in common, and not asking for help is probably the worst thing we got."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we have Bobby in common too, yeah?" I give a small smile, before slipping past him and into the hallway. When I get close to my bedroom, I glance back to see him still standing by the bathroom. After taking a quick second to make my next decision, I nudge my head in a welcoming gesture. Dean makes his way towards me, as I disappear into my bedroom he follows behind.

"Instead of making you sleep on the couch, we can share the bed, I trust that you're not gonna kill me in my sleep." As I rotate a pillow so that it is vertical on the mattress, to create a small barrier between one side of the bed to the other, I think what sleep? Dean had chuckled lightly at my comment and shook his head. He strips off a couple layers of clothes until he's in a black t-shirt. When he goes to get onto one side of the bed, I clear my throat loudly.

"What?" Dean asks, pausing his actions.

"You are not getting into my bed with those nasty ass pants on." He puts his hands up defensively and has no issue pulling his pants off, before getting in bed. I won't lie, it wasn't a bad sight to see.

Going to the bathroom, I take clothes to change into for bed and brush my teeth, wrapping my hair up in a knot on top of my head. When I get back to my room, Dean is already out cold. I leave the bedside lamp on as I get in bed beside him.  For the first time in what feels like my whole life, I fall into a deep, and comfortable sleep.