#yes after spring break i will have so many difficult assignments my head will spin.

[doodlebloo]

OFFICIALLY FINISHED with torturous assignments and despicable meetings because of SPRING BREAK!!!!!!! MCC IN 8 DAYS LET'S GOOO PINK PARROTS! UNRESTRAINED SPRING FUN!!!!!

[whispersatdawn]

on the rebound | jeong jaehyun social media!au | part 8

↳ In an attempt to finally move on from his ex-girlfriend, basketball star Jeong Jaehyun reaches out to Y/N, who he knows has a crush on him.

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a/n: i wasn’t gonna include a written part, but here we are

word count: ~3k

This... feels strange, you thought mindlessly to yourself, as your gaze fixed on the boy seated next to you. He was busy on his phone taking photos of the fading sunset that he barely noticed you staring, which you were quite thankful for because it allowed you to take a look at him just a little longer.

There was no denying that Jaehyun was attractive. To be honest, his beautiful features slightly intimidated you. When his perfectly shaped brows raised in surprise. Or when his dreamy dark brown eyes looked like he was trying to figure someone out. You especially liked it when Jaehyun smiled or laughed. You were confident Jaehyun’s dimples were the culprits of stealing many people’s hearts; those cheek indentations were truly fatal. However, for you, it was simply the occasional, cute nose scrunch. Unlike the dimples, the latter came and went quickly, but it still had an impact all the same.

Despite having been on few casual dates with Jaehyun in the past week, it was difficult to wrap your head around the time spent together, especially since the past two years consisted of you pining over him, after missing the opportunity to act on your feelings and confess to him.

Two Years Ago (First year of college)

"We should rent an apartment and be roommates next semester!”

Your eyes widened at Sujin’s suggestion. “All four of us?” you asked, swiftly spinning your finger once to point at yourself as well as the group seated around you. It was a clear day, so after class, you had a picnic with your friends at the university quad. “My parents helped me pay for campus room and board this year. I don’t know if my part-time job at the fitness center can afford rent.”

After meeting Sujin at the freshman orientation and running into Ten and Johnny in line at a food stand during the school organizations event, you had never had more fun nor felt more comfortable with anyone than you did with them. You remembered studying for hours often with Sujin since you both were biology majors and shared some courses. There was also the time when you attended the university dance team’s fall show and watched Ten’s first solo performance. Of course, though you almost always refrained from physical altercation, you could never forget the day you confronted Johnny’s ex-girlfriend at a party after she cheated on him and showed no remorse, which resulted in hair-pulling as well as Sujin and Ten dragging you out before further troubles. With what you all had gotten through together, there was no doubt that you considered the three to be your closest friends.

“Aren’t you going to apply for the research position with Dr. Kim? I’m sure it pays more,” Sujin said before taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“That’s the plan, but she hasn’t opened applications yet, so I just have to wait,” you sighed, laying down Johnny’s lap. “I think it’ll be fun to live together though!”

“I’ve actually been thinking about living off campus, too,” Ten said, grinning, “so you’d all be saving me from looking for roommates. I’m in.”

“Johnny?” you asked in a sing-song voice, looking up at the handsome male, waiting for his response. You opened your mouth as Johnny fed you a grape and then he leaned back, probably considering the idea.

“Hm... if I say yes, can I bring people over to spend the night?”

You grimaced at him before sitting back up right away while Johnny let out a laugh due to your reaction. “No thanks for the image,” you deadpanned, “though I guess it’d be cruel to deprive you of sex. We’ll all need to obviously talk more about housing and details later...”

“Y/N, behind you! He’s here.”

You instantly froze after Sujin’s announcement. “He’s here?” you mouthed, heart rate picking up, and Sujin confirmed with an eager nod. Pushing the conversation with your friends to the side, your ears were now focused on the sounds behind you. Multiple shoes against pavement. A ball dribbling. Familiar as well as unfamiliar voices chattering. When you tried to discreetly turn around, you found some members of the basketball team on the open court. You immediately spotted Jeong Jaehyun, casually wearing a black hoodie and maroon basketball shorts, playfully shoving a teammate after a teasing remark.

“Oh my god, how did he get even hotter after Spring Break?!” you muttered before turning back to your friends.

Johnny scoffed jokingly. “Hey, hey, keep it in your pants.”

“Also, aren’t you forgetting something?” Ten asked you, nudging his head back to the basketball court.

Oh. Right.

The actual reason you coincidentally (not) picked this day for a picnic at the same time Jaehyun and his friends played basketball.

You and Jaehyun took a Calculus class together the previous semester, and in a room with a little more than 100 seats, you ended up sitting next to Jaehyun. The two of you barely exchanged much words other than when one of you had questions about assignments, but you could not help but be drawn to him anyway. And although he did not have to talk to you outside of class, you always appreciated his greetings whenever you ran into each other at parties or after his basketball games. You thought your feelings were just a temporary infatuation, but your crush only seemed to grow after months, so you made a vow. After Spring Break, you would ask Jaehyun out.

However, now that you saw Jaehyun standing a few feet across from you, you felt like you were going to throw up. You wanted to back out. Abort. “Oh, look at the time!” you laughed nervously, pointing at your wrist that was definitely not wearing a watch. “I forgot I have to study for an exam tomorrow.”

You started to stand up, but Ten yanked you back down to the ground right away, causing you to land on your butt. “Nuh-uh. Don’t think so. Hey, Yuta!”

You shot a look at Ten, sending a quick telepathic message along the lines of Are you fucking serious? before turning back to everyone on the court. Almost all of the guys faced the direction of your group after hearing Yuta’s name called. You found Yuta who waved once he spotted you and your friends. I guess I’m doing this, you thought to yourself, breathing deeply and then mustering the biggest smile you could in that moment.

“Good luck, babe,” Sujin cheered as soon as you stood up and started to walk towards Yuta. The group had already dispersed to different parts of the court, ready to start a game.

“Is there a reason why you texted me if I would be out at the quad today?” Yuta asked as you ran into his arms for a quick hug.

You pulled away and then playfully punched his arm. “Maybe there’s just something about you playing basketball that makes me swoon,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

Yuta rolled his eyes, punching your arm back lightly. “Please. I can assure you that from middle to high school, when your parents worked, you had to wait after my practices so my dad could take us home. You’ve definitely used the word miserable to describe it.”

“Okay, but it’s obvious that my presence at your practices have made you into who you are today, right? This university has to thank me for their best shooting guard.”

Yuta grinned. “Alright, just tell me what you want.”

You hummed, rocking back and forth on your feet as you glanced around for the one who has been on your mind. “I actually wanted to talk to Jaehyun.”

“Jeong Jaehyun?”

You nodded your head. Yuta leaned closer, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to assess you. After a second, your friend straightened back up and called for his teammate. “Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun stopped his conversation with another player and turned his attention to you and Yuta, slightly confused, but he walked over to you both. “What’s up?” Jaehyun questioned, catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Y/N wanted to talk to you, so I’ll leave you two to it,” Yuta explained, ruffling your hair as a goodbye before he left you alone with Jaehyun.

You let out a nervous laugh, fixing your hair. It was now or never. With the close distance between you two, you got a whiff of Jaehyun’s cologne—wood, also kind of spicy. “Hey, Y/N. Sucks we don’t have a class together this semester.”

“Yeah, sucks. How was your break?”

Jaehyun shrugged. “I went to Cabo.”

You paused. “Oh.” The wealthy be different. “Cabo. Must’ve been a hell of a time. I thought Haeun’s pool party was something. Not even close.”

"Yeah, Cabo was a great time. So... what did you need to tell me?”

“What?”

“Um, you said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, feeling shy after remembering why you were there in the first place. Your eyes shifted to your shoes, unable to keep eye contact with the boy in front of you. Nervousness as well as excitement rushed through you, and your body felt like it was tingling. It kind of scared you what his reaction would be, but it was what it was. The worse he could say was no. “About that. I—”

“Jaehyun!”

Suddenly, a feminine voice called out his name. You whipped your head around to find a girl with a black long bob and bangs waving excitedly to Jaehyun and then running straight into his open arms. You took a minute to process what was happening. Your first thought was that she was very pretty. Her makeup suited her, especially the burgundy red lip tint. Her body also fitted well in her white tank top and black skinny jeans.

“Hey, babe. What’re you doing here? I thought you were working on your journalism project,” Jaehyun said, happiness evident through the way his face lit up, smiling in a way you had never seen Jaehyun smile before. Arms still around the girl, Jaehyun leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling as if you were intruding on the intimate moment.

“Yeah, but I missed you, so I decided to take a break and hang out with you,” the girl answered in the sweetest tone as she pulled away from Jaehyun. She then looked over at you as if she noticed you for the first time. “Who’s this?”

“This is—”

“I was just leaving,” you interrupted.

Jaehyun brows furrowed. “Wait, I thought—”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” you said a little too quickly, waving your hand dismissively. “It was nothing important. I had a question, but the answer just popped into my head, haha. I, uh, actually have a thing, so I’m gonna go now. Yeah. Thanks, Jaehyun. And nice meeting you—”

“Hyejin.”

“Hyejin. Nice meeting you, Hyejin. Okay, bye!”

You spun around, and your feet picked up pace as you walked away from the basketball court, out the quad, towards the direction of the dorm. Your phone vibrated in your back pocket, likely a call from one of your friends, but you could not help but feel slightly embarrassed after the incident. The last thing you wanted to do was talk about it.

Babe. Definitely way worse than being rejected.

End of Flashback

When you snapped out of your thoughts, you realized that Jaehyun was now staring back at you, with those captivating eyes that sought for answers. “Y/N?” he called out softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm, slightly flustered that you zoned out while looking at him. “Y-Yeah?” Shit, you cursed to yourself after you choked on the reply, and you cleared your throat before answering more clearly. “Yeah?”

Jaehyun leaned back and chuckled. “I just wanted to let you know I really appreciate you coming to the basketball games again. It’s nice seeing your face in the crowd.”

You smiled. “Of course. None of my roomies except Ten really enjoy watching basketball, but he’s been busy and it’s been fun attending with Mark and Lucas. Also, don’t tell Yuta but I think I gradually started to like basketball because of him. Watching him for so many years, I can’t help but get into it when I see him find so much delight in the sport. He’s insane on the court.”

When you caught Jaehyun’s pout, you let out a laugh. He wanted his ego fed for sure. “I mean, obviously, he’s nothing compared to you, Captain. Come on now.”

“Obviously,” Jaehyun replied, giving you a smug look. Then for some reason, in a few seconds, you caught his expression when his smirk fell. “You know, my ex,” Jaehyun started, absentmindedly grasping at the sand under his hand and letting them fall through his fingers, “she never really attended my games.”

As the sun was about to fully disappear, you heard the sound of thunder rumble in the sky. Looking up, you noticed that dark clouds started to roll in. Was it supposed to rain today, you wondered. “Hyejin?” you asked, returning your attention to Jaehyun. He nodded. Since he brought her up, you might as well have asked your questions and got them over with now. “If it’s okay, can I ask what happened between you two?”

Silence settled between you and Jaehyun when he did not answer right away, which made you feel bad because you did not want to open those wounds again. Another wave of thunder roared. You two would have to return back home soon. You were about to try and change the topic, but Jaehyun spoke first. “She said that the way I loved her bored her. I don’t know. Something about how I always agreed with her and that I never confronted other guys when I felt jealous. Or when I didn’t argue with her, it felt like I didn’t care at all.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You did not know what else to say. Breakups were hard. Before you realized, your hand reached over to Jaehyun’s, and you placed yours over his, squeezing it softly. “It’s not place to say... but she didn’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun turned his hand over so that his palm held yours, squeezing back. His lips stretched into a small smile. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You then felt a droplet of water tap on your leg. Then the top of your head. Then your cheek. Suddenly, the pitter patter of the rain became louder as it hit the sand and water. You and Jaehyun looked at each, mouth opened in awe at such misfortune, before the both of you bursted into a fit of laughter. “Wait, did you not check the weather before planning this?!” you exclaimed to Jaehyun with a huge grin on your face as you jumped up, barely covering yourself with your hands above your head.

“Listen,” Jaehyun explained as he also stood up, grabbing the jacket that he brought with him. “did you not check the weather?”

You were not sure if the rush your body felt was due to the unforeseen weather or the way Jaehyun stared at you like he was waiting for you to make a move. With your adrenaline and curiosity, you stepped closer to him. “Are you seriously trying to blame this on your date right now, Jeong Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun leaned closer to your face. You sucked in a breath, aware of the lack of space between you two. Jaehyun took his jacket and covered the top of your head to protect as best as he could from the rain. You grabbed the outerwear, but Jaehyun’s grasp was also still on the jacket. Despite the rain drenching Jaehyun from head to toe, a smile remained on his face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This was my bad. How can I make it up to you?” Jaehyun asked as his eyes fell onto your lips before looking up to read your eyes. His lips pressed together, and his next question almost turned you into a puddle. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” It was all Jaehyun needed to hear to release his hold on the jacket and moved his hands to cup your face. Jaehyun’s lips brushed against yours. Soft. His lips were soft. You smelled the familiar scent of his cologne, and it made you even dizzier as you continued to kiss Jaehyun, letting the blossoming warmth consume you. You could not help but smile into the kiss, and when his tongue pressed between your lips, you started to part your lips for him until a loud crack of thunder struck in the sky, prompting you both to pull away from each other.

“As much as I’d like to keep going, I think I should get you home before you catch a cold,” Jaehyun said with a chuckle.

Like a gentleman, Jaehyun walked you all the way to your front door. Though you offered Jaehyun shelter from the rain inside your apartment, he declined, assuring you that his fraternity house was not too far from your place. “Really sorry we couldn’t get that fancy dinner,” Jaehyun apologized. “I knew you were looking forward to that the most.”

You shook your head, reassuring him with a smile. “No worries. I had such an amazing time, Jae.”

He leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips. “Next time. Now get inside and change into some dry clothes. I’ll text you later.”

“Drive safe,” you told him, and he nodded. As soon as Jaehyun walked away from you, you grabbed your key and unlocked the door to your apartment, calling out to your roommates. “I’m home!”

Sujin was the first one to greet you in the living room. Her eyes widened when she spotted you in your wet clothes, droplets of water dripping from your hair to the tiled floor. “Geez, Y/N! I thought you two were just going to watch the sunset, not get into the water fully clothed.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and passed by Sujin to get to your room. After you closed the door, you ran to your bed and plopped on the mattress, not even bothering to change out of your clothes right away. You unlocked your phone and opened Instagram to view the most recent photos of you and Jaehyun from today, recalling the event that occurred hours ago. Today really happened. Jaehyun kissed me.

taglist: @fluffyjaes @hwangful @seeking-faces @urlocalnctstan @justineasian @127-jaehyun @dearjaehyxn @taesty-jams @jeneyesmile @taeiluv127 @mango-bear @marklexleaf @generantionct @tyxsaturn @247byun @yourchasingsunsetslove @ajhdr @jaeficrecs @bitchenderyy @thorscrown @leaurcitee @erisxczenie @minavenue @phoenixes-and-wizards @renjunf00ls @notminniie @sanisms @sunflowerhae @smileyyuta @ohmy-fandoms @artfulbarnes @anotherfullsun @moons00 @nctlovesme @unmanageable-day @raywishii @thejungjaehyun @venusprada @doyobun @nshitae @andrea-chanel @llamabouquet

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 5: Poison (S1E13)

Summary:  A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: murder, swearing, drugs

Ch 4 | Ch 6

~ ~ ~

Rain was such a strange thing in Lydia’s mind. The sound of it hitting the window next to her was soft and gentle, and so many people spoke of it like it was cleansing or refreshing. But all Lydia had to attribute it to was mud and sickness. It didn’t leave her excited for spring. She didn’t think of it as food for flowers or a new start. She thought of floods. Confinement. Tears… 

“What’s up with you?” Spencer asked, startling Lydia out of her thoughts.

“What’s up with me? What’s up with you! You’re late!” she responded, watching him sit across from her at the booth and put down his coffee.

“I just got back from a case last night,” he defended. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I took a little extra time to take a shower before leaving.”

She looked up at his hair to find it was indeed damp, but it could easily be from the weather outside. “Fine, you get a pass. Also, I don’t need you anyway,” she joked.

His face changed to one of hurt. “Wow. I mean, you don’t, but-”

“Sarcasm, Spencer.” She couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “Although, I am doing alright so far. I’m working on these extra assignments my criminology professor gave me. How was your case?”

“It went well. Found the unsub, saved the kid.”

She nodded. “That’s great!”

And they descended into silence, as they had the last time they’d met, both of them working on their own assignments.

After Lydia and Spencer had talked about helping her get her PhD, they’d made plans to meet off hours at a coffee shop so that Spencer could give her some advice for speeding up the college process. It had been terrifying at first. She’d been ready to completely back out, but Spencer had been insanely patient with her, able to convince her (after some rambling and statistics) that she was more than capable. He’d advised her who to talk to and what to ask teachers about their courses and so on to organize her thoughts. And then he just… sat with her as she worked. If she was ever confused on an assignment, he had her back. It was reassuring.

About halfway through their meeting, Spencer had put away his paperwork in favor of a book, but he found his pace excruciatingly slow. He wanted to invest himself in it, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking up at her when he knew she wouldn’t notice.

When she was extremely focused, her teeth would pull mindlessly on the dead skin on her lips. That’s what she’d been doing when he got there and saw her gazing out the window, not even realizing he’d walked in. But he hadn’t wanted to push her on that. And now all her energy was focused on her online work.

He also noticed another small tick when she was struggling with a question, because she always did it before asking him for help.

“How long have you worn a ring?” he asked her, watching her spin it loosely around her knuckle. It was a thick silver band, which was clearly too big for her fingers, and she was constantly switching it between the pointer and middle finger on her right hand.

She raised an eyebrow, but her manor was curious, rather than questioning. “I’ve had this ring since I was 16. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just never seen you wear it before, is all.”

“It was my dad’s wedding ring,” she confided. “And you’re right. I don’t wear it when I go on cases, because getting latex gloves on and off is hard enough and I’m terrified of losing it.”

He took this answer gracefully, but Lydia could tell he was dying to ask why she had her father’s wedding ring rather than him. And before she could go back to her work, he spoke up again.

“You know, I’ve been really curious about something and you’ll have to forgive me if it offends you, but when we met, I asked you about why you had a limp and you didn’t tell me.”

She silently let go of a sigh of relief that this wasn’t related to her father (or at least, not to his knowledge). “Yeah, sorry about that. I know I was… weird that day.”

“So was I,” he reassured her. “But I’m kinda weird all the time.”

It was a sweet sentiment, but she was quick to shake her head at him. “Not at all. ‘Weird’ to me is far from the definition of Dr. Spencer Reid.”

It was like his eyes sparkled when he smiled at her. She found herself wanting to see it all the time and had to keep herself from staring.

“Right. My leg. Well, in actuality, my foot. I broke it when I was a teenager and it healed incorrectly,” she explained. “The arch is all sorts of messed up. But it doesn’t hurt and I can’t afford surgery anyway so I just let it be.”

“I’m sorry.”

She laughed, absurdly. “What for?”

“You didn’t want to get your PhD, because you couldn’t afford to go through any more years of school than you needed to and now you tell me that you’ve got this limp for the same reason? I don’t want to make any assumptions about your financial status, but I honestly do feel sorry that you think you need to sacrifice these things for it.”

This comment seemed to trigger something in Lydia and Spencer racked his brain for any indicator of what that may be.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” she responded, but it didn’t have her previous spark of interest in the conversation, so he just agreed and let her go back to her work.

~ ~ ~

“You missed the briefing,” Gideon informed Lydia as soon as she picked up her phone. It had been a week since she’d had her second meeting with Spencer and she was sitting in her apartment, working on her schoolwork.

“What briefing?”

“Jet leaves in 30 minutes. You’re needed on a case.”

Lydia scoffed. “Gideon? That’s not a heads up. This would be my 3rd case before my 50 day limit was up, why am I coming along?”

“Do you want the job or not?” he asked, frustrated, but Lydia could tell it was just his impatience.

“Of course I do. I’m on my way. But I know there’s got to be a good reason to call me in after a briefing and against Chief Strauss’s wishes.”

He sighed on the other end before continuing. “We’ve got a poisoning case. LSD. You’re a chemistry expert, so I need you.”

“Reid’s definitely more of an expert than I am. But I’ll do what I can.”

“If we all determined our worth to the team by comparing ourselves to Reid, it wouldn’t be a team… it’d be Reid,” he argued. “I’ll see you on the jet.”

~ ~ ~

“How do you want to handle the press?” Gideon directed to JJ as they all settled down for their flight.

“We still don’t even know how these people got dosed. I think it would be irresponsible to issue a warning without specifics,” she reasoned. “It’ll just cause panic. I did notify the local PD, though, to be discreet.”

“How is it possible that none of these people knew how they got poisoned?” Morgan asked and before Lydia could stop herself, she murmured,

“It’s possible.”

JJ and Morgan both looked at her with concern, the rest of the team just stayed silent and they considered how this case might affect her after what happened with her roommate. The effects of her sudden drugging had been vastly different, but in the end, Lydia could understand the victims of this situation and how they must be feeling now that they’ve come out of their intoxicated state.

Hotch cleared his throat, returning to Morgan’s question. “None of them remembers anything about the day it happened.”

“These people are so messed up, it’s made it difficult for local PD to retrace the victims’ steps,” JJ explained.

“I suggest we split up the victims, see if there’s a pattern in the victimology,” Gideon began.

“Most of them are still in the hospital,” Hotch told him. “I’ll call local PD to meet us there.”

“I’ll check the lab reports,” Spencer offered. “Maybe there’s a clue to the unsub’s motive in the specific nature of the poison he used.”

“Ambers, you’ll go with him,” Hotch ordered, handing her her own file to review the details of the case. “I want you to be supervising the lab tests and keep us updated on everything you find. Especially if any new victims come in.”

“I-” She blinked down at the reports and pictures she’d just been handed. “Unchaperoned?”

“You aren’t a girl in the Regency Era,” Gideon teased. “You can handle it.”

“Don’t break any lab equipment,” Hotch insisted. “But yes, since we don’t exactly have a crime scene for you to analyze and you have experience in the lab as well, I want you there. Don’t worry about having a supervisor for now.”

She nodded, wanting to accept before he changed his mind. She didn’t miss Gideon’s smirk either as she accepted her new assignment. He was excited for her.

And she was kind of excited, too.

~ ~ ~

Spencer kept pace with Lydia as she navigated the hospital for the clinical lab. She was surprisingly confident in herself, finally getting to work a case that wasn’t up to suspect. She didn’t have to wonder about the colors on little girls’ paintings or try to date the wax underneath a satanic symbol. No, labs were natural sciences.

And she was an expert in those.

They were met at the door by one of the biochemists. “Hi. You must be the FBI agents. I’m Dr. Marilyn Keyes.”

“Hello. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit and this is our forensic expert, Lydia Ambers.”

Lydia did her best to greet the woman calmly, but her heart rate picked up when Spencer called her their ‘forensic expert’. She made a mental note to ask him about it later, seeing as she definitely was not considered an expert on the team. She was an intern.

“Alright, I’ve got the results from the blood tests here, but there isn’t much to say. The LSD levels were scarily high.”

“Were there traces of any other drugs in their system?” Spencer inquired.

“Only one,” Dr. Keyes replied. “Rohypnol.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow and turned to find Spencer doing the same. “But rohypnol is a roofie. If the unsub’s goal was to give a bunch of people a wild trip, why give them a sedative?” she asked.

“Because one of the most well known effects is amnesia,” Spencer reasoned, but Lydia shook her head.

“I just don’t see what would make a person poison all these people with a strong hallucinogen and then knock them out before seeing the effects.”

“But it didn’t knock them out,” Spencer argued. “They all still went about their day as normal.”

“Mixing drugs to get a precise effect like that is insanely difficult. This guy has to have some background in science.”

“One of the victims, Jack Fisher, got extremely violent and beat his son almost to death.” Lydia’s eyes shot open. This was news to her, seeing as she missed the briefing. “Are you sure there wasn’t anything like PCP in their systems to cause an aggressive outburst?”

Dr. Heyes shook her head. “We only found LSD and rohypnol.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ve been assigned to oversee the lab work on any new cases brought into the hospital and to keep my team informed of the information as it comes in. May I stay in here?”

Dr. Heyes seemed surprised by the request, but nodded. “Of course. I’ll find you a space to set up.”

As she did that, Spencer turned to go. “I’ll go tell the team what we know so far. Call Gideon or me if you figure out anything else.”

“You got it.”

With him gone, Dr. Heyes paused, her eyes wide. “He’s a doctor?” she asked, completely bewildered.

Lydia laughed. “Yes. He’s got 3 PhDs, in fact.”

If Dr. Heyes’s jaw could hit the floor it would have. “And you, you’re an FBI agent?”

“No,” Lydia said quickly. “No, I’m just an intern. They only sent me here because I’m the only one on the team who was trained in a lab setting. I just got my BS in chemistry.”

She decided not to mention Reid’s credentials, mostly because if the biochemist asked why they didn’t leave Reid here instead, she wouldn’t know what to say.

“But you are so young! You don’t even look like you’re 20 yet!”

“I’m 21,” Lydia assured her. “And he’s 24. Which to be honest, is extremely young to have 3 PhDs, but you know, he’s older than I am, so I think him being an agent is less of a stretch.”

“When did you get a job with the FBI?” she inquired.

“After I graduated this past spring. I’d met them while they were working a case and I guess they were in the market for someone knowledgeable in forensics. Here I am!”

It was a lie, at least to Lydia’s knowledge. The only thing she knew about the offer put in front of her was that Gideon fought for her to get it and Hotch’s boss, Chief Strauss, was not pleased that the position existed at all. But Dr. Heyes took the response and left her to pull out her laptop and try to remind herself about everything she learned about spiking and these specific drugs when she went to UCSC.

~ ~ ~

“We’ve found another victim,” Gideon informed her over the phone. “Her boyfriend worked at the cafe where many of the victim’s had been seen the day they were dosed. We brought him into custody, but it doesn’t look like he did it. And, from what you’ve told us so far about the process of creating this mix of drugs, we’ve ruled out a prankster. They're too disorganized to do this. From a look at other factors we think we’re looking at an avenger here.”

“So, someone’s got a personal vendetta against one of the victims and the rest are just collateral damage? Or was this just his test run?”

“My guess, when he gets the person he’s going for, it’s not exactly going to end in a bad trip and some memory loss.”

Lydia sighed. “One hell of a test run. I mean, I’m looking at these results, Gideon. And the statements from the victims. This guy has made quite the concoction.”

“The profile says he may have an accomplice, but if so, he’ll dispose of them soon. If any new cases come in, let us know immediately.”

“Will do,” she said, hanging up on him.

Not 20 minutes later, her phone was going off again, this time it was Spencer.

“Hey.”

“The hospital’s about to be swamped. We’re on our way there now.”

“Swamped? Why?” she demanded, looking up at all the biochemists and pathologists at work. Shit.

“A leak hit the news. They didn’t mention why or how people were getting dosed, only that it was happening. The people are in a panic and many people are going to come in with completely psychosomatic symptoms.”

“Fabulous,” she grumbled. “Well, I can give you the results of any of the tox screens, but they won’t be in for a while. Especially if people start barging in.”

“We’ll talk to doctors and nurses and find out who is definitely not psychosomatic. Make sure that their blood gets tested first.”

“We’ll be ready,” she assured him.

~ ~ ~

“We’ve got a Lynn Dempsey,” Dr. Heyes said, offering up her lab results. “She just got in, tested positive for rohypnol, but negative for LSD.”

“Interesting,” Lydia said, scanning the file. “Maybe she just got roofied?”

“That doesn’t explain her symptoms, though. She was apparently heavily sedated when she got in, but now, she’s struggling to breath. Nausea, difficulty swallowing, and she’s lost control of leg movement.”

“What are you guys thinking?”

“She was taking an antibiotic recently, which, in the case of a severe overdose, could cause these symptoms, but an overdose like that is not an accident. That plus rohypnol is an interesting mixture.”

“Have you guys looked at any biological toxins?” Lydia inquired and she shook her head.

“We didn’t think that was the sort of thing we should be looking for.”

“It’s hard to determine what we should or shouldn’t be looking for. The LSD and rohypnol combination was interesting enough by itself. If this guy’s as good as he appears, I doubt he’s buying drugs from street dealers. He could have access to all sorts of things.”

“I’ll get on it,” the doctor informed her and hurried off.

Lydia grabbed her phone. “Gideon?”

“Whatcha got?”

“Lynn Dempsy? Rohypnol and something else. The lab technicians are working on it now. But, she’s a bad case. Either the target or the accomplice.”

“You get Garcia, I’ll call Hotch. He’s on his way to the hospital now. JJ and Reid are already there, they might have already seen her.”

“Got it. Calling Garcia now.”

She fumbled with her phone some more and got Garcia’s contact.

“Sugar! How can I help?”

“The team’s gonna need everything you’ve got on a Lynn Dempsey. We’re looking for connections to the substances the unsub’s using or perhaps anything to indicate someone wants revenge against her.”

The sound of her furious typing could be heard over the line. “Alright. I’ll send whatever information I get to their phones. Right now, all I’m seeing is that she works for Hichcock Pharmaceuticals.”

“There’s something to that. Let Gideon know. I’ve gotta go,” she finished, seeing Dr. Heyes already on her way back with papers in her hand. “Did you find something?”

“Lynn Dempsey has been exposed to clostridium botulinum bacteria,” she explained.

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Botulism?”

The doctor nodded.

Lydia was up from her seat in an instant. “I’ve gotta tell Reid. I’ll be right back.”

She threw her phone into her back pocket and ran from the lab to get to the ER.

“Reid!” she called once she reached the waiting room. He turned, JJ following suit. Hotch was on a call over the front desk. She ran up to them, not wanting to disturb anyone around them. “It’s botulism.”

“Is that what the lab reports say?” he demanded, pulling her away from the people and into a hallway.

“Yes.”

“Botulism toxin is the deadliest substance known to man. It blocks acetylcholine receptors, paralyzing it’s victims until basically choking you to death,” he explained, knowing Lydia was already aware of this.

“And without an antitoxin, Lynn Dempsey in there is screwed.”

He put his hand up to his chin. “New Jersey is the pharmaceutical and chemical capital of the US. There’ll be quite a few people with access to the toxin. It could easily be ordered in the form of botox.”

“But, it’d have to be purified,” she reasoned. “Lynn Dempsey is an executive assistant. She wouldn’t know how to do that. And she doesn’t fit the profile. But, she does work for a pharmaceutical company, so if she’s the accomplice, they might have met at work.”

He opened his mouth to add to that, but JJ called, “Reid.”

She was standing in front of Dempsey’s room, looking in.

“I think she’s trying to say something.”

He ran over to enter the room with her and Lydia walked over to Hotch to see if there was anything she could do.

“Then, you should look for Lynn Dempsey, 45,” he was saying over the line. “Garcia’s emailing a picture to your phone.”

There was silence for a moment, and Lydia watched JJ and Reid try and piece together what Dempsey was saying to them. But, the doctor had to rush in as her heart rate started increasing quickly.

“Or working with him,” Hotch offered, but Lydia wasn’t sure of the context. “I’ll call you back. Lydia, what are you doing up here?”

She looked up at Hotch and was terrified for a moment that she’d done something wrong. “I came up here to talk to Reid about Dempsey. She’s been poisoned with deadly toxin found in botulinum bacteria. And without an antitoxin within the first 36 hours, she won’t make it. Reid and I were discussing how the unsub might have gotten this toxin.”

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“Well, Lynn works for a company with access to this toxin, but it needs to be purified from other drugs. She likely wouldn’t have this ability. We were thinking accomplice.”

He nodded. “That’s what Morgan and I were discussing. We found all the victims went to First New Jersey Federal Bank the day they were dosed and from the security footage, it looks like Dempsey was replacing candies from the candy bowl. The CDC is testing the candies now.”

“Alright. I’ll head back to the lab and start listing off any new victims that come into the hospital.”

“Thank you,” he responded and watched her go.

~ ~ ~

“So, if they worked together, let's start with people who fit the profile who’ve had a recent stressor,” Hotch reasoned, the rest of the team together in the station.

“Like anyone fired from Hichcock in the past 6 months,” Morgan offered. “I’ll call Garcia.”

Gideon’s phone went off beside him. He picked it up and announced, “It’s Lydia. Lydia, you’re on speaker phone.”

“Hey, you said you thought Lynn Dempsey was replacing the candies at the bank?” she started.

“Yes, why?”

“I’m looking through the medical records of the original victims and one of them was severely diabetic.”

“He wouldn’t have taken candy from the candy bowl at the bank,” Reid realized.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Hotch said. “We have the candies here and they’ve tested positive for rohypnol and LSD.”

“Well, not that it means that much, but the amount of LSD in the victims was fairly even across the board, but I’m finding vast differences in the rohypnol. It could be that some of the victims didn’t finish the candies and others did, but I think you should look at those tapes again and check if everyone took a candy. Maybe the unsub contaminated multiple objects at the scene?”

“It’s a bank, what else do you ingest that comes from a bank?” Gideon argued.

“I’ll look over those tapes,” Reid offered. “Thanks, Lydia.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia was finally starting to settle down, thinking she’d done her part in the case now that the last of the tox screen tests had come through and they hadn’t turned up with any strange new victims, when Hotch called her.

“Hello?”

“Ambers, we’ve got a guy named Ed Hill in custody. I want you to search his lab for any indications as to what he planned to do next or who his target was. I’m having Garcia send you the address now.”

“Wait, Agent Hotchner-” she cried, knowing he tended to hang up abruptly. Once she was sure he wasn’t going to cut her off, she continued. “I don’t have a vehicle with me.”

“Nevermind, then. I’ll have Morgan get you.”

“Thanks.”

“And Lydia?”

“Hm?”

“Hotch is fine.”

She bit down on her lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. “Got it.”

Once he’d gotten off the phone, she closed up her laptop and grabbed her case file.

“Leaving?” Dr. Heyes asked.

“Yes. I’m off to analyze a scene. Thank you for all your help today.”

She smiled. “Thank you for catching the guy who did this.”

“We’re not sure yet-” she started, but left it there, not sure how to continue. Dr. Heyes understood and let her go, but it left Lydia with an inexplicable feeling.

No one had ever thanked her before for her work. Not that she’d done a lot of work before this and when she’d interned at the police station in Santa Cruz, almost all of her time was spent in a lab. But, it nevertheless felt nice to know that people thought she was doing good.

And as she got to the front of the hospital and waited for Morgan to pull up she realized something. While she was here, working for the BAU, she was doing good.

~ ~ ~

The jet was silent on the way back to Virginia. Almost as soon as they boarded, everyone found a spot to rest and had fallen asleep. Lydia had considered shutting her eyes and trying to join them, but deep down, she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep. And without something to distract her, she’d end up letting her thoughts wander, which recently hadn’t ended well for her.

A quick look at the scene and a confession from Ed Hill was the end of the case. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to prevent his suicide, but she had far too much on her mind to dwell on that as well.

Lydia thought about Jenna fairly often, unsurprisingly. She wondered sometimes if she’d been aware of the other two girls’ deaths, maybe she would have been more alert and able to prevent Jenna’s. And she was constantly thinking about what had happened between the last thing she remembered and the time that Jonathan Carrey drugged her. Did she see or hear him before he was able to sedate her? Maybe she’d tried to scream, but couldn’t. Mostly, she wondered if she’d done something dumb, like opened the door for him or simply asked him why he was there.

She knew that in that memory relapse, if she’d called for help, Jenna could have made it out just fine. That was mostly why it hurt.

The other reason was because she had profited so greatly on Jenna’s murder. She’d gotten a job. And it made her feel guilty that any good could have come to her at the expense of another. She just had to hope that Jenna didn’t despise her for it in the afterlife.

But Jenna wasn’t the only death on her mind. Recent events had reminded her of her mother’s death and despite the fact that Lydia had long since recovered from the emotional toll it took on her as a child, she’d likely never have closure over what happened and it was difficult recently to be reminded of that.

But either way, she was glad her job allowed her to give closure to the families of other tragedies.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Hotch asked, sitting across from her and nodding towards the book in her hands.

She smirked and made the same motion towards the cup of coffee he just made for himself. “Aren’t you?”

“I know I’m going to have a lot of paperwork when I get back. I’m preparing myself for that.”

She closed her book and sat up straighter. “I’m not much good at sleeping without help. I’ve had to take sleep aids for most of my life.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, honestly.

“It’s never really been an issue unless I haven’t had access to any. I’m sorry you have to stay up late filling out paperwork,” she returned.

“Lydia,” he started after a pause. “I’m truly sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable while working this job. I want you to know that I don’t have anything against you, I was just stressed your first few cases.”

“That’s alright,” she reassured him, quickly. “I’m not upset. I was worried that perhaps I was doing something wrong, but I didn’t realize how much my behavior affected your job. And Gideon’s, although I don’t control what he does. I can’t promise that I won’t end up doing something stupid and getting myself fired, because sometimes things happen, but I promise that I will do everything in my power to make it clear that you and Gideon aren’t responsible for my actions.”

“Well, we are,” he argued, which made her giggle, quietly.

“Besides, I get to call you Hotch now. That must mean we’re best friends.”

“Best friends, hm?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her over the rim of his coffee cup and took a large sip.

They’d settled into silence and Lydia was about to pick up her book again, when he said, “Lydia? I want you to know that I was given access to some of your family history when we were considering hiring you…”

A part of her had been wondering if this conversation was going to come up. Gideon had talked to her about her sister, but he never pushed her to talk about her parents. And Garcia had let the topic go after they had their conversation about secrets, leaving Hotch, who she’d never had a private conversation with before, to be the one to confront her.

“Garcia told me that you’d get the information from her background check,” she agreed. “Why?”

“I wanted you to know that sometimes these cases become difficult when they remind us of something personal. And I want you to be aware that if you are struggling while working on a case or something personal is on your mind, we’re all here for you. The team is just that, a team, and many have been through similar things to you. I want you to know that you aren’t alone in this.”

Lydia could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She didn’t think she’d ever reach the point where she broke down in front of one of them. She’d gotten so good at stopping herself that sometimes it scared her. But the offer was one of pure concern. Hotch had built a family in his team and he was opening his arms to her.

And she wasn’t really sure how to show him that she understood.

“On my first case,” she began, “we took Allison Crawford’s brother into custody. Frank. And he had an orange prescription bottle with him.” She remembered the details slowly, trying to piece together what she was thinking at the time. “And it was weird to see. Because it’s not like I don’t see those anymore, I do. But that one made me think of my mom. And it made me angry.” She shook her head, pulling herself out of the memory. “It was gone before I even knew what was happening. I’m not particularly worried about an inability to do the job. But I guess, that’s something.”

She was grateful to look into his eyes and see that he understood. And it had been a long time since she felt like she could speak openly about her life to someone and not feel weird. Or like a burden. Or pitied.

“It’s the same as when people call me Miss Ambers. I know they mean it respectfully, but it always takes me back to sitting in psychiatry or therapy offices with her. The doctors always called her ‘Miss Ambers’.”

Unbeknownst to her, another person on the plane who could imagine what she was going through had been drifting in and out of sleep and heard her confession. Reid didn’t open his eyes, afraid that she might be upset if she found out someone other than Hotch had been listening. But he took in the bits he had picked up and decided that he would keep collecting pieces of Lydia’s story until he could make out a picture of her life.

[realmwrites]

Homework

[ read on ao3 ]

GerAme Week - Work and Play

Alfred flops against the table, his pencil falling from his hand to the floor. He groans theatrically. “Ludwig, help me study. I don’t understand any of this shit.”

Ludwig rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand and dips to pick it up. “You’re actually better than me at math. If you would just apply yourself you could help us both out and explain this better than Ms. Iliopoulos did in class.” He slides him his pencil.

“Man, it’s so fucking funny that you call her that instead of Ms. I, but it’s also probably why you’re her favorite.” He flicks the pencil back towards Ludwig.

“Alfred, focus.” He hisses, pushing the pencil back again. “I call her that because it’s her name, and I’m not going to study with you anymore if you keep being a nuisance. I want to get some sleep tonight.”

“I can keep you up in more exciting ways if you want.” He wiggles his eyebrows, spinning the pencil with a hand.

“Shut up.” He flushes. “Do your homework.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re no fun.” Alfred sits up and runs a hand through his hair.

His glasses fall crooked across his nose, and despite his best efforts to tame it, a shock of golden blond springs back up. It makes him look like a comic book character, square jaw, bright eyes and all, and Ludwig’s heart stutters in his chest. He shakes it off and forces his gaze back to his paper.

Alfred continues. “Can’t we take a break? We’ve been doing homework for hours and hours and hours. I’m going to die if I don’t stand up and kick something.”

“Don’t kick something.” He grumbles under his breath and scratches down the next equation.

“Can we at least take a quick walk? It’s good to stand up and do shit between assignments. We finished history already, so I think we deserve at least one break. Or maybe we can raid the fridge and eat something. Like those bread things your mom bought? I’m fucking hungry.”

He stares at the singular x2 on his paper, his irritation spiking as his concentration dwindles. Maybe Alfred is right. Maybe he does need a break, but he knows that if they pause, he’ll never finish at a reasonable hour.

“No,” he says.

“Jeez, okay, I’m going to take a break if you aren’t. Come find me if I don’t come back in an hour or two, or when you decide you want a break, too.”

“You better not be gone for more than fifteen minutes.”

“That’s barely long enough to take a shit.”

“God, Alfred, you’re disgusting.”

“Whatever, dude, you know you love me.”

“Just go take your break. I’m trying to be productive here.”

Alfred snorts and pushes out from the table. “Okay, okay, sorry, Mr. Straight As. I’m leaving.”

“Good.” Ludwig rolls his eyes, no real bite to his tone. “Oh, and by the way, if you eat all the snacks, I’ll throttle you.”

“Then maybe you better come with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

Alfred shrugs and saunters out of the room.

Ludwig gnaws at his lip, glancing at where he’d disappeared and back to his paper. Chips, chocolate, coke- it does sound awfully appealing, but he’d already said he wasn’t interested. Ludwig exhales in frustration, scribbling down the next step. Quadratic equations should be easy for him by now, but for some reason, his mind won’t let him factor. It’s only number twelve- less than half the assignment.

Alfred pops unbidden in his mind’s eye, grinning with all his perfect white teeth, and Ludwig throws down his pencil. He leans back in his chair and looks to the ceiling, praying to any higher power for his unhelpful problem to cease to exist. He’s stopped bothering with denial, but the more he accepts his hopeless dilemma, the more hopeless it seems to become. Alfred Jones is the most beautiful boy he’s ever met in his life, but it’s never changed the fact that he rarely focuses on his school work, eats all of Ludwig’s snacks and is, worst of all, unquestionably straight.

He erases number twelve. Five minus seven does not equal three.

By the time number twelve is completed, he's  surprised to have heard no shouting from the kitchen or exaggerated sounds of chocolate consumption. It seems that Alfred has genuinely decided to let him work in peace, and it’s almost disappointing.

He stares at number thirteen for all of five seconds before he starts towards the kitchen. Maybe Alfred is right. Maybe a few minutes of break won’t hurt after all.

When he pads onto the tiled floor, Alfred is nowhere to be found, but he’s clearly been present. New chocolate wrappers are crumpled in the trashcan, and someone’s left out a full cup of coke. He smiles despite himself. Alfred knew he’d come looking, but at least, he’d poured him a glass. He grabs it and sips, wandering towards the back door.

He pushes it open, and his eyes land on Alfred rocking back and forth in a chair on the porch. Alfred glances in his direction at the sound of the door, but he doesn’t greet him with anything more than a nod. Ludwig squints at his somber expression and walks towards him and the chocolates on his lap.

“Are you just sitting here and thinking?” Ludwig asks, reaching for a chocolate.

Alfred shrugs.

He sits in the rocking chair beside him and pops the chocolate in his mouth. Alfred stares off into the yard. Ludwig follows his gaze to the oak tree, its leaves swaying in the back and the birds chirping in its branches. The sun sends dappled shadows on the grass, and light filters onto Alfred’s face in oblong splashes. Serious doesn’t suit him, and Ludwig is quickly growing uncomfortable.

“Are you okay? Oh, and thank you for pouring me a drink.” He tries again. It’s odd to be the one initiating the conversation.

“Uh huh. Welcome.” Alfred nods, sliding the chocolates onto the table in front of them. “And I dunno. Sort of. I guess.”

“Did something bad happen?”

“No, but do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No? You’re very smart. You only act ridiculous sometimes, but you’re smarter than me. I think school just might be difficult for you because it’s so monotonous. It’s boring for me, and I even like regimented predictability.”

“I’m not smarter than you, but thanks.” He stretches his arms above his head, rolling his ankles in little circles. “Sorry. I just got thinking, but hey, Lud, you know how you’re… gay?”

Ludwig’s heart stops for a dreadful second, his fingers going numb against his glass. Did Alfred know?

“Er, yeah. What… What about it?”

“I think I… Uh, I- How did you figure that out? This probably sounds really dumb, but how’d you know you weren’t into girls?”

“The same way you know you aren’t into men.” Ludwig shrugs, relieved to hear it’s this and not anything regarding his feelings towards Alfred. “I’m not attracted to them. I think some girls are cute. Eliza is beautiful, but it’s more of an observation than anything else.”

“But I don’t know that.”

“Of course-” Ludwig stops, his eyebrows raising. His heart flutters in his throat as hidden hopes and locked dreams rattle in their cages. He forces them down. It doesn’t mean a thing when this likely has nothing to do with him at all.

“No, I don’t know that I’m just into girls. Like I don’t know. It’s not like I want to bang when I see a good- a hot guy? But I don’t know. Does it count if it’s just one person? Being bisexual?”

He feels like he’s dying.

“It’s your identity, but what do you mean? Is this recent?”

“No. It’s- fuck, it’s, I don’t know, it’s been like this for a while now. I didn’t say anything because it was weird? Not that being… gay is weird. But it was- I don't really fucking know. I think this guy is really… hot I guess? But it's not just that. I thought for a while that maybe I just wanted to look like him or some shit, but it's like a crush? Like butterflies in your stomach whenever he smiles. I want to-” Alfred groans. “I don't know. What the fuck is happening to me?”

His throat constricts. The sun is too warm on his skin, and Alfred's blue eyes burn like sunspots through his heart. It could be him, but why when they knew so many better looking, kinder, more talented people? Why when it could be Kiku with his soft smile and witty jokes? Feliciano with his boundless energy and magnetic creativity? Ivan with his cooling presence and sharp tongue? Francis with his flamboyant confidence and effortless beauty? Too many better choices, too many easier friends. Besides, why would Alfred tell him anything if it was him?

“It sounds like a crush.” He barely registers his own voice. “Do you know if he's interested in men? Do you want to pursue him?”

“Yeah, he's not straight, and yeah, I think- No, yeah, I want to really fucking badly. I'm just scared it would ruin our friendship because I really care about him, and- I don't know, Lud. I'm so fucking confused. What would you do?”

Suppress all emotion and die, he thinks. “Is he open to dating?”

“I think so?”

Ludwig wants to take Alfred's hands in his own and look him straight in the eyes. He wants to tell him he's wanted to kiss him since freshman year, that he's never stopped wanting. He swallows down every sticky, choking feeling crawling up his throat. But he still feels sick to his stomach.

“You should ask him about his love life. If he seems open, it’s always better to tell them the truth. You can get it off your chest and move on, and if not, you can pursue it.”

“Okay.” Alfred's eyes bore into his soul. “You're single, right?”

“Yes.” And he will be until Alfred Jones exits his life.

He doesn't know which is worse: Alfred staying his closest friend and dating someone else or Alfred leaving his life forever. Both are too painful to consider.

Ludwig frowns. “This isn't relevant though.”

“Why not? Are you open to dating right now?”

Yes and no. Yes if your name is Alfred. No if you’re anyone else.

“Alfred, can we not talk about my love life?”

“Lud-”

“Who is it anyways? And why are you only telling me now?” Ludwig's heart thumps wildly in his chest, his words dropping like anvil strikes on hot iron. He can't stop. “I thought we were best friends.”

“I haven't-” His face crumples, hurt writing itself across his features. “And yeah, we are best friends! I only told Kiku, but that's because I didn't want to mess anything up with you.”

Ludwig bites his lip hard. “You told Kiku before me.”

It makes sense. Kiku is the better listener. Kiku is the better friend. Kiku gives better advice, and Kiku isn't disgustingly horrible with anything emotional.

“Lud, no, it's not like that-”

“Then what is it like? How come-”

Alfred stands from his chair and in a heartbeat, his lips are pressed against his. Ludwig's mind runs blank.

Alfred's lips are burning, his breath puffing against his mouth and his hands balled up in his shirt. Ludwig leans forward, craning his neck to meet him and slinging his arms around his neck. He tastes like coca cola and chocolate. His fingers thread through the soft locks of Alfred's hair, and he tugs him closer.

“Lud-” Alfred yelps, but before Ludwig can process what's occurring, Alfred tumbles into his lap.

He blushes bright red, his hands gripping the back of Alfred's shirt and Alfred's knee between his legs. They’re chest to chest, and Alfred is just a breath away.

“I'm sorry-” Ludwig starts.

But Alfred laughs and slides his knee up beside his other until he's kneeling on the chair between his legs. He cups his face with his hands, his careful fingers brushing against his cheekbones, and Ludwig inhales sharply.

“Wait, so do you like me, or do you just usually kiss back people who kiss you out of instinct or some shit?” His face is flushed a healthy pink, and he's grinning wide. He looks like a vision, and Ludwig's heart is threatening to beat out of his chest.

“I like you.” He admits.

“Good because you were the guy I was talking about, and it's why I didn't tell you sooner, and also, do you know how distracting you are when I'm trying to do my math homework, and you're here chewing on your lip with that cute little crease between your eyebrows, and how much it makes me want to kiss you?”

Ludwig gapes, his thoughts scrambled in an incoherent mess.

“Is this bad? Should I get off?”

“No, it's good.” He quickly amends. He runs his hands through Alfred's hair with reverent awe. He traces down his neck to his shoulders, marveling at his warmth and his weight against him, and Alfred shivers beneath his touch. He bites his lip. “It's good.”

And it is, and Alfred is staring at him like he's announced he's a real live superhero, or he's promised him a trip to the moon. He's warm and real and bright, his eyes sparkling behind his dark frames and his hair fluttering in the breeze across his face. Alfred smiles, their noses brushing for an instant, and Ludwig's stomach does somersaults in his middle.

“See. When you do that it makes me want to kiss you and never think about math again.”

“You can. Kiss me, I mean, if you want. Actually-” Ludwig sets his hands on his glasses and slides them off. Alfred blinks, and without them, his eyes go almost bluer. He’s beautiful, but he always is.

Ludwig sets them on the table to their front and smiles. “Okay. Now you can if you want.”

“Whatever you want, Lud.”

Alfred cups his jaw in his hands and kisses him tenderly. He sighs against his mouth, his thumb running along his cheeks and his chest pressed against his front. It feels like fairy dust soaking into his skin, burning at his lips and his skin and his chest wherever Alfred touches. His hands slip to his waist, and he squeezes his hips gently, the contact tingling like stars beneath his grip. It feels like stardust and promises fulfilled beneath the full moon, inexplicable joy washing over him like lapping waves on the seashore.

Alfred breaks away, his cheeks flushed and his hands settled in his hair. He laughs and turns until he's sitting in his lap.

“Can we do this more often?”

Ludwig grins, wrapping his arms around his middle and tucking his chin above his shoulder. “Only if you promise to teach me how to do that damn assignment.”

“Good. And now that we're dating, we can have more fun breaks than just stuffing our faces with junk food.”

“We're dating?”

Alfred reaches back, his hand finding Ludwig's cheek. “If you want.”

“We're dating.” He agrees.

Alfred laughs.

[tales-from-exo-planet]

BERLIN || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. - Part II -“Benign”

Length - 5,971

Mood - Interdependent, Augmented

Pairing - Minseok x Reader

“Instead of becoming someone’s “Yes man”

I’ll open the path myself, building my own world

Getting stronger every time I recover from injuries

Ain’t nobody can tell me what to do

Anytime we connect with other people

Our own world extends more

Spread the words and spread the love

If you’re satisfied, don’t turn around

Just continue believing like this”

“KING AND QUEEN” by EXO-CBX

______________________________

“That was a horribly solemn affair. We looked like we were going to a funeral, not a New Years Eve blowout,” _______ (Marseille Reader) snorted as she tied up her hair into a knot atop her head.

_______ (Lyon Reader) rolled her eyes, as she removed her earrings where she sat at the vanity, and placed them in the velvet pouch she had brought. She like all of you had changed from your gowns as soon as you arrived, placing them in their assigned garment bag in the closet provided, and now sat in a perfumed silk rouge red robe.

“Most of the guys wore black, and it was the same uniform suit. So yea, it looked like a funeral,” you chimed in, unafraid to poke fun now that the whole thing was over.

The hum of ambient music piped through the room. Elsewhere within the spa you could hear the trickle of the fountain, and the soft whir of the air conditioning overhead.

The walls of the room were a marbled crystal blue while the floors and doors were coated in a decadent stone gold.

______ (London Reader,) entered the salon then, bundled up in her robes, the door through which you’d heard Jongin’s voice humming a husky “이따보자” before it clicked closed behind her.

She lilted shyly past you all, pulling the collar of her robes higher to close and conceal her neck, and mouth as she went, as if she could hide the puffy kiss-bruised lips she was pressing together, and the scarlet blush creeping up her neck.

_______ (Almaty Reader) peered over the notes in the slim black notebook she had brought to review as she reclined on the earthen chaise, pursing her lips as she watched her go by with a raised freshly sugared eyebrow.

“So adorable,” she mouthed to you, miming a chuckle before ducking behind her notes once again.

The door whisked open as ______ (Colorado Reader) entered.

She gave a small smile as she entered, inclining her head toward you all as she came to sit beside ______ (Lyon Reader) at the vanity, her expression somewhat wistful.

“I can tie your hair up if you’d like?” _____ (Lyon Reader) offered to her, and ______ (Colorado Reader) considered it for a moment, startling at suddenly being addressed.

“I don’t have a hair tie-” She began but ______ (Lyon Reader) held up a tie between her fingers.

______ (Colorado Reader) turned then, whispering “thank you,” to which ______ (Lyon Reader) only shrugged, smiling at her in the mirror once she was finished.

“You’ve always had it together, but honestly becoming a Mom has you scarily prepared for everything,” _______ (Marseille Reader) chuckled as she came to sit beside you on the loveseat where you were sipping the cabbage juice you’d requested, adjusting the snowy white goose feather pillows as she got comfortable .

She eyed the cabbage juice you slowly sipped from once again, before pouring herself a cup of the hearty dark evergreen mixture. The color churned and sloshed as she poured it, hurrying to fill the glass.

You gestured to her to stir it with the straws laid beside the pitcher on the gold platter. She reached down as you instructed, stirring slowly as she watched the contents spin at her urging. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you said as she took a breath, pinched her nose, and sipped the juice.

She hesitated to swallow for a moment, appearing for a moment to concern spitting it back into the glass but resolutely covered her mouth and swallowed audibly. She shivered as she took a deep breath.

“How is YunHee?” _______ (London Reader) asked as she came from the dressing closet to sit on the opposing loveseat where ________ (Edinburgh Reader) placed her bag before joining Sehun in the hallway to talk.

He had come looking for her as soon as your troupe arrived at Türkisches Hamam Berlin, the premier Turkish Spa in Berlin.

You heard Sehun’s raspy whisper as she opened, and smoothly let the door close behind her, “can we talk for a minute _______ (Edinburgh Reader)?”

_______ (Lyon Reader) had watched her go quietly but you knew that between you both, there were many things left unsaid to the both of them.

But that’s what had inspired this brief pause.

The need to address the things you had all been putting away and hiding from one another, and yourselves.

_______ (Arizona Reader) had been one of the first to change and was also seated beside ______ (Almaty Reader) reviewing the latest catalogue she scheduled for release later this spring in the afterglow of your shared new year celebrations.

The two spoke in unpretentious, languid tones in time, with unhurried plucking of the sitar, to one another as they had since reuniting. It had been some time since you, ______(Almaty Reader,) and ______ (Arizona Reader) all met one another during your collegiate exchange seminar.

It was then in those days that one by one you had introduced one another to one another until this unit, within the passage of significant time, had bloomed into the substantial governing body you were today.

While you had exceeded the dreams of those youthful years, you were still the same snarky troupe.

And you knew by the way they kept their inflection level, even bordering on indifferent that they were discussing their observations of the newest additions to your tighter band.

As well as their opportunities for foolishness.

“Well let’s not all stare at the door until she comes back,” you sighed as a silence settled into the room as everyone awaited ______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) return.

“But we are worried, are we not...I mean they sat beside each other in the planning meetings and rehearsals earlier this week without really looking at each other and talking…? If they did it was very cordial, and unlike them,” (Marseille Reader) whispered between sips of water. She took her time between sips, exhaling hotly as if to slow the effects of brain freeze.

“But still. Let’s give her some privacy all the same. It is awkward enough already,” you advised, eyeing where ______ (Yunnan Reader) sat quietly still, not involved nor separate from the current conversation.

She sat upon the loveseat farthest from you in the oval shaped room, waiting and withdrawn. Her hands periodically shifted the slivers of hair she tucked, and untucked from behind her ear as she took slow, unhurried breaths with her eyes on her own lap. Whenever her phone chimed her hands would spring to action, her fingers flying across the screen before all flurry of activity ceased to begin again.

Yixing had entreated upon her behalf to Minseok, yourself, and ______ (Almaty Reader) to allow her to take part in the preparations for the upcoming winter events a couple of months following her return to her position.

“It’s become harder for us now, Minseok. I don’t know if you can help, but…” Yixing had begun, a definite hesitation in the pace of his words. He had been conferenced in some weeks prior to your planning visit while you, ______ (Almaty Reader) and _______ (Arizona Reader) met in the cafe on Minseok’s private level of Erhabenheit.

Minseok took the rotary dial phone from its speaker phone display after setting down the kettle while you poured cups of tea for everyone, and spoke confidentially into the mouthpiece as he turned his back, “just tell me what you need.”

Needs.

Desires.

Lusts.

What we all need is honesty.

She remained soundless on her loveseat, breaking her resolute posture briefly to reach towards the coffee table in front of her, thumbing through the spa’s slim brochure of packages and the self care tips following the presentation you just received from your tellak though you had already chosen your packages well ahead of this retreat.

You thought maybe it had been difficult for her because of the stairs at the entrance.

Yixing had offered to carry her up the stairs himself so that she wouldn’t strain herself, but she had blanched almost parchment white at that, and accepted his hand instead.

It had taken _______ (Barcelona Reader) some time as well to gain her bearings once staff had escorted you all to your dressing area before you went further into the Hamam.

At the entry she had been gathered into _____ (Edinburgh Reader’s) grasp as Tao let her go to follow the men to their separate dressing room.

_____ (Edinburgh Reader) had helped her to undress to her underwear privately, as everyone had also done, looking after her diligently as any elder sister would. She took care to cover her shoulders in a robe as she sat waiting for her to return, her feet shifting in her sandals.

But _______(Barcelona Reader) had eventually relaxed even without (Edinburgh Reader’s) return as she listened to the murmurings of the women surrounding her. She’d even giggled when _______ (Almaty Reader) scolded you for offering her cabbage juice first instead of water.

“Oh goodness! What are you trying to do to the poor girl? Enough!” She’d exclaimed, pulling the glass from your hands that you had offered in good will to _______ (Barcelona Reader’s) open hands.

And yet ______ (Yunnan Reader) only shyly laughed as if she wasn’t meant to hear the joke.

But if any of the ladies felt burdened by her chilly anxiousness even here within this tempered Hamam, they didn’t let on and focused instead on tying the checked stark white and baby blue peştemals about themselves and one another.

Just as ________ (Colorado Reader) stood to allow ______ (Lyon Reader) to tie her peştemal across her chest, your tellak entered the room with _____ (Edinburgh Reader) on her heels, her eyes misty and downcast.

“Ladies if you’ll follow me? We will now begin,” the tellak inclined her head towards the entrance of your private dressing area which would be locked behind you all in your absence.

____ (Edinburgh Reader) went to ______ (Barcelona Reader’s) side immediately, taking her hand in a familiar clasp as Tao had, intertwining their fingers securely.

The tellak led the way with you in the rear, while you tried without speaking a word to gesture ______ (Yunnan Reader) up further towards the innermost core of the line of ladies.

She acknowledged your gesture, and apologized that she may still need to take her time walking.

You shook your head.

“We have all the time we need here. Please, if you would.”

The tellak led you deeper through the soğukluk, the ornate halls into the Hamam where you would first enter the hararet.

“There is enough room for everyone to lie upon the göbektaşı if you wish? Please take a moment here before we proceed,” the tellak gestured to the raised platform at the center of the white smokey marble domed room where the heat was amplified the closer you moved towards the platform. The steam swirling through the space provided an atmospheric curtain. You wondered if the women around felt a shift in their breathing pace, as if the curtain of steam was pressing upon your chest.

The closer you moved towards the heat of the raised platform, the more unsteady you felt on your feet but you pressed forward where the ladies had gathered and now laid down beside one another.

“Such a breathtaking space,” ______ (London Reader) observed aloud and the throng of you ladies hummed in unison with her as the heat from the göbektaşı seeped into your skin.

It was quiet within the space as you all laid there, everyone careful to remain still so as not to disturb each other.

“We’re still not used to each other or else I guess we would chat more,” _______ (Marseille Reader) chuckled after another minute passed in silence.

“It’s too hot to think,” ______ (Lyon Reader) choked out a weak laugh from her place on the göbektaşı.

“Or even fart...can you imagine a bad smell happening in this room and how rank it would be? Everyone would vomit!” _______ (Almaty Reader) heartily laughed aloud earning nervous giggles and surprised guffaws.

“We’re all piled on here together like sausages roasting so it would be the next worst thing to happen!” ____ (Arizona Reader) snickered.

“I can’t breathe to laugh anymore! Oh my head…” _____ (London Reader sighed) as she struggled to sit up.

“Oh my! Sorry!” ____ (Colorado Reader) called out as ______ (London Reader) rustled beside her.

You sat up just to catch the flush of cherry red spreading across her face as she pulled her checked peştemal back to its original tied position.

“I’m alright! Really! Nothing to get my knickers in a twist over” She blushed even deeper as _____ (Colorado Reader) sat up to apologize.

“...wait what?” ______ (Barcelona Reader) asked aloud suddenly from beside _____ (Edinburgh Reader) whose misty expression broke at the sudden question.

“Now we’re rolling,” ______ (Almaty Reader) laughed aloud amongst the muggy confusion and stuttering laughter as your tellak returned with two additional women flanking her on either side.

“Ladies, it’s good to hear that you’re more relaxed. Let’s begin,” at the close of her statement the staff moved to the sides of the raised platform where you and the ladies sat, your giggles subsiding to humored murmurings as the staff began to soak each of you with warm water, and rose water soap suds.

Between latherings the masseurs would help you each to lie upon the platform to deliver one massage at a time.

The pain of their persistent pressing and smoothing hands, fingers and knuckles was difficult to withstand at first. There were many beside you who moaned aloud at their aggressive, yet therapeutic touch.

Ever in sync, once you finished your lathering and massage, you were shifted in pairs for scrubbing with the hand-knitted washcloths each of you had tucked into the knot of the checked cloth at your chests.

You moaned consistently throughout the scrubbing, startling only when you heard ______ (Marseille Reader) cry out during her cold wash up.

“I’m so sorry! I’m not trying to be dramatic! You did warn me. Sorry,” she apologized to her masseur once she got over the shock, and quieted down to finish her washing.

But the shock was enough to return you all to the familiar comfort you were beginning to share when the masseurs had first entered.

Your tellak waited until everyone had completed their last cycle of washing before announcing that, “you are in no rush to leave. We have refreshments available to you in the salon when you return there to dress. There are additional towels and wraps for all ready to shower as well.”

You all waited until they left the room before gathering the towels and taking turns to shower.

_____ (Barcelona Reader) was shy at first to enter with ______ (Edinburgh Reader.)

“It’s up to you what you’d like to do. I can just walk you through and tell you where everything is. I can wait right outside,” _____ (Edinburgh Reader) spoke to her softly, holding her hand in both of hers.

_______ (Barcelona Reader) nodded, “if you could just show me where everything is. And just...outside is fine. If you stand right outside the curtain. If you don’t mind.”

The rest of you showered one at a time, waiting and politely acknowledging those who were ready to shower until you all were done.

“No one wants to stay right? I want to take a nap I’m so exhausted from all that scrubbing”

“I was nervous for a moment that they were going to start scrubbing elsewhere but then I remembered ______ told us that that does not happen ever.”

“Oh goodness, could you imagine?”

“You thought I was screaming before at the cold water...Junmyeon would have been banging the door down trying to get to me to find out what was going on…”

“I wonder how they’re doing with the bathing”

“How they’re doing or how they’re looking”

*Sputtering*

“I mean, well this is a different cultural experience for me. I’ve never been to a public bath house before”

“Well I think for most of them, visiting a public bath house is a little more natural than it is for some of us.”

“Ah you have a point there”

“So is it just water on the menu?” ______ (Arizona Reader) asked as she entered your salon once again,

“There is that horrid cabbage juice ______ keeps insisting is good for us,” _____ (Almaty Reader) rolled her eyes at your expense, winning laughter even from you.

The voiceless gaps of space you’d waited to see burst upon your entrance at the hamam were filled with effervescent laughter as the ladies dressed again.

______ (Lyon Reader) was again helping _______ (Colorado Reader) with her hair while ______ (Barcelona Reader) helped ________ (Edinburgh Reader) to brush out her hair.

The two girls sat side by side, while ______ (Barcelona Reader) carefully guided her hands, gently fingering through the tendrils of her hair with the small oval detangling brush held poised until she reached the top of ______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) head, and smoothed the hair down again. ______ (Edinburgh Reader) sat patiently, her misty eyes closed for now while ______ (Barcelona Reader) worried over her.

“Another glass of cabbage juice?” ______ (Yunnan Reader) suddenly offered to you, approaching you with the tray the tellak had just delivered while you were preoccupied with dressing and finding a space to lie down while you waited.

“Yes, thank you. I have no idea why everyone thinks it’s so horrible-”

“But we can say that you smell terrible after you drink it. Remember when we came on holiday after a school trip?” _______ (Almaty Reader) eyed you and you threw an unused hand knitted cloth at her head that she dodged.

“So that’s why you brought up the farting before! Ugh! You’re just-”

______ (London Reader) laughed in shock at the final connection she’d made while _______ (Barcelona Reader) dipped into _______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) shoulder where they both giggled softly together.

“We told you that you couldn’t live it down. It’s your fault for ordering that disgusting juice again!” _____ (Almaty Reader) explained through tearful gasps as _______ (Arizona Reader) high fived her.

“Ahem, speaking of healthy...I wanted to gather us all here to talk anyway,” you coughed and cleared your throat as you fanned the flames from your cheeks in between sips of cabbage juice.

“I can’t believe that you can still drink that,” ______ (Arizona Reader) continued but you shooed her comment off.

“Stop. Really,” you said failing to not dissolve into giggles as the rest of the ladies continued to laugh while _____ (Almaty Reader) held her nose as you begun speaking.

_____ (Lyon Reader) and _____ (Colorado Reader) joined you on your loveseat just as ______ (Almaty Reader) whispered “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Oh would you just quit!” You exclaimed tossing your head back as laughter overtook you all again.

_____ (Yunnan Reader) had shakily returned the tray to the center table in front of you all and sat on the loveseat beside _____ (Barcelona Reader) and ______ (Edinburgh Reader) as the two swapped the detangling brush, the three of them vibrating with laughter.

“Healthy living begins with letting it all out though doesn’t it?” _____ (Almaty Reader) quipped once more between gasps and snorts.

Everyone doubled over at that with _______ (London Reader) patting her face dry of tears.

You glared at _____ (Almaty Reader) over everyone’s heads as ______ (Arizona Reader) murmured, “I think we’re ready to start now.”

A cool flourish of air lifted the trim of the curtains at the windows of the salon where the windows were slightly opened.

“Healthy release as ______ (Almaty Reader) brings up is something that’s become much more important in my life recently. I know that Minseok and I don’t really share a lot. We delegate a lot and we share what our plans are but because of some health concerns that have come to light for me….I have to be better about sharing. I have to be better about release. I have to be better about being open and transparent,” the tonal shift wasn’t heavy nor did it harden the light in the open eyes of all the women surrounding you.

If anything, they leaned closer.

“I just want to be more open. I want to be healthy. And because of that I privately messaged you all asking you to bring a single photo to base your vision boards on. I’d like for us to complete them throughout the new year, and display them in our home offices,” you stated, pausing to lean forward to pick up your briefcase from the floor to reveal the small photo envelope you brought with you. As you righted yourself back into your seat, you looked pointedly at everyone and waited for them to go and bring their photo envelopes as well.

They each moved slowly around one another, smiling genuinely at each other as they excused themselves to their separate corners of the oval room before returning together.

You gestured for everyone to open their envelopes and reveal their photos to one another in your circle.

Your eyes caught at the ages represented in their photographs and wondered at all the anecdotes that everyone would share.

“So our topic today is healthy living,” you began waiting for everyone to come to attention once again.

In front of you for everyone to see, you tenderly held a picture of yourself at four years old between your grandfather and grandmother outside their farm home in front of your favorite cream white and pale yellow tulips. Your overalls and apron were smudged with dirt while your grinning grandparents’ cheeks were smudged with dirt from your thin hands.

“Healthy living for me would be being able to go home to see my grandmother more,” you confessed breathily as you looked back into their astonished faces.

“Grandmother…?” you thought you heard someone whisper.

“I was raised by my grandparents following my third birthday when my parents found out that I had leukemia. From what I remember at the time, my family and I did not come from much. We lived in a very, very small rural town built, and maintained by my grandfather and his father and his father before him when my family immigrated to the states. My parents were very young when they married, and were very very devout in their faith. They dreamed of opening a church in our town that could welcome so many blessings to the people who lived there as well as bringing together a community of devout followers. But when my parents found out that I was sick, I think they thought that maybe it was a sign that they were not meant to be parents and instead should follow their missionary dreams,” the admission was no longer shocking to you nor was it painful to hear yourself speak it aloud despite the varying degrees of intimacy within this group of women.

You hadn’t known your parents faces since you were young, and that’s just the way that it had been.

Your father had hoped that your grandfather would erect the church in an identical fervor of devout passion as he built the bridges that led into your town, and City Hall at its center, but your grandfather admitted to you often that he was disappointed that your parents did not treasure you the way they had been treasured as children.

“You’re a fool to leave behind a child. Our children are our future,” you remembered your grandmother recounting to you the few times you’d asked her to retell the story.

“My grandparents decided from then on to raise me, and took me to the research hospital in the next state over where we settled down to live. I remember being in my hospital bed, and when I could stay awake my grandfather would tell me about the world. ‘I want you to know everything there is in this world because one day you will be old enough and strong enough to be part of it. One day you’ll be able to go further than any of us ever dreamed. You will do it, my child.’”

“He read to me often about architecture, and finance, and politics...he taught me everything he possibly could.”

You felt a hitch catching in your throat but you breathed past it.

“In so many ways Minseok reminds me of him, and I told him that when we first met as well back in school. I think that’s one of the things that honestly attracted me to the business. I see it as my opportunity to make my grandfather, and my grandmother proud of me-”

“Will she ever be able to visit you here? Your grandmother?” ______ (Edinburgh Reader) asked suddenly, and you shrugged as you shook your head.

“No, she prefers that I come to visit. I’m not sure that she’s comfortable traveling really long distances from her garden, and from Papa since he’s buried on the farm as well. She’s in great health...I think it’s just too much for her,” you said as ______ (Colorado Reader) took your hand.

“I can really identify with what you said,” she began it seemed before she even realized that she was speaking. Her picture was in her lap face down as she spoke, and ______ (Lyon Reader) picked it up for her, turning it over where the circle could see it.

In her picture was her, and Kyungsoo at what looked like a modern day jazz club. A younger Kyungsoo sat at the poker table while she sat on his lap in a beaded drop waist dress, her arms draped around Kyungsoo’s neck as she bashfully turned into his embrace where he held her securely around the waist against his chest, his smile prouder and brighter than you could ever remember having seen it. It looked like this picture had been saved from years ago when they had first met one another.

“I…” she started, and stopped as she looked at the picture again.

“I have been going to therapy because Kyungsoo and I have been trying to eat well. I have even taken a step back from work. I have done all these things but I still have not been able to have a baby. And that is something that for the life of me, I really want to be able to do. It is just that as Kyungsoo’s wife, as his partner, we have done so much together. Well, we...we got married without our families. We did not do it I guess in a way that a lot of other people would and that already made me feel anxious about our future and then now for me to not able to get pregnant and for us to not be able to be the family that I thought we were going to be...it makes me feel like the healthy life that I thought I was living where you know I am with this man that I love so much...is not healthy at all.”

She looked at the photo held in ______ (Lyon Reader’s) hands, smiling a small smile as she took it into her hands as she let your hands go.

“I love Kyungsoo more than anything. And I just never want to fail him. I never want for him to not be proud of me. I never want to embarrass him…” the ardor with which she spoke told you that she took what she thought of as failure extremely personal.

Throughout this year she admitted that she had isolated herself in her failure.

That it had become so internal, and so personal, so emotional, so painful and so physical.

“I just did not want him to be part of that. I felt like...that would fail him even more to be part of that than I already have,” she breathed out warily.

“He firmly requested that I go to therapy, and I have been for awhile independently. And I feel like there is so much that we need to do. We are here today with everyone, and finally I am really getting to meet all of you. And it is nice to be here. But um...you know I feel like I want more time with my husband. I have taken so much time from us and our relationship because I just could not get out of my spiral. I risked so much and I am realizing that now…” her words were strong as she spoke them, and you felt ______ (Lyon Reader) shift beside her as she reached for her picture that she had placed on the table.

“If I may,” she began, answering the pregnant pause, _______ (Colorado Reader) birthed.

“Just continuing on this thread of health, and what it means to be healthy,” and she turned her photo over to reveal to you all.

It was your dearest YunHee, the princess acknowledged by most of the women sitting beside you.

It was a recent photo taken from her second birthday party. She was posed in her signature tutu upon the floor of her bedroom with her newest friend, Mongryeong, a Welsh corgi recently adopted into their family. YunHee faced her parents’ camera with her chin in her hand smiling with head tilted to the side as Mongryeong sat up beside her, his chin also tilted in the same direction.

“Baekhyun and I….you know I can understand where you all are coming from. My daughter um…” she sniffed as if not expecting the tears pooling in her eyes.

“I...I have had a lot of anxiety about my daughter, and about what’s going to happen to her. What if she never learns how to talk,” and her voice broke on “never.”

“What if she is never able to communicate with me, and tell me ‘maman ma couleur préférée est.’ What if she’s never able to say mom? Who is going to take care of her? Who is going to protect her?”

“I wish that Baekhyun and I could come to an agreement on what we are going to do as parents for our child. We just go back and forth on whether to put her in this therapy or to wait. We have pushed back our wedding date and have not even gone back to our wedding book that his mother, and my mother helped me to make. We have not talked about the wedding. We have not talked about getting married…” she let out a frustrated groan as she wiped more tears away and placed her photo gently down on the table, face up beside yours and ______ (Colorado Reader’s.)

“I am so happy to be here with you all. I am happy for us to get face to face time together. We have been popping in and out of retreats. We have spent so much time focused on our events and our ideas and talking on and on about that that we have not gotten time to truly get to know each other,” she looked around at you all then, and you nodded in encouragement thankful that she was taking you even further forward as spontaneous tears had begun budding in your eyes, and a bothersome welling building in your throat.

“You know...we are not...I’m connected with my mother and everything but I know for some of us we’re far away from our families and so this enterprise for us ladies can be a place where we come together and we create yet again another family and a network and support system. I know for _____ (Colorado Reader) we have been talking back and forth about everything because she was there for me when I was really sick at the hospital and she helped me to take care of my daughter. So we have developed a relationship. I have not been able to form relationships with everyone and,” the look in her eyes said that she wanted to go on and that there was more that she wanted to share but she stopped herself nonetheless.

_______ (Marseille Reader) reached over the table to pat her hand.

“You know sometimes with Baekhyun and I….I love him and we have been together for a long time. We have loved each other for such a long time but we have isolated ourselves in our own little castle and our own little universe. And since it is just us...when you are having issues coming together with the person you have built this beautiful castle with it is miserable...it is horrible,” she exhaled finally shaking her head as she ran her hands along her cheeks where tears had trailed.

Everyone seemed to crouch a little closer together as the waves of release began to break over you all.

“I am...I am really happy to be here too,” _____ (London Reader) started, her breath rustling out of her as she began.

“I have never had a true consistent group of friends. I have had loads of colleagues and classmates, but I am a reserved person for the most part so it only goes so far for me. I have gotten on being in a work environment and interacting with others. I have been really working at it and em…” there was an excited pause as she pulled out her photos.

From the vantage point of it, it seemed that Jongin had caught her by surprise from behind her while they were on an evening walk together. She was looking into the lens over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling and her smile confident as she held Jjangah to her chest while her other hand was in Jongin’s.

The other was Jongin holding her up high, her hands on the tops of his shoulders looking down into his eyes as he gazed up into hers where they stood outside of her new dance and movement therapy program’s building.

“I want to do amazing things and I am so happy to be here and to be amongst all of these ladies. I am gobsmacked, truly. This is who I want to be. I want to be this wicked, brilliant person that I see in so many of you when I look at you. And on top of that, something I am anxious about but I am excited about is my relationship with Jongin…” she grew pinker, and pinker still as she went on.

“I am falling in love with him. But because I do not have that network that you are mentioning now I feel like I am closed off. And _____ (Lyon Reader) has been such a dear and a friend by talking to me and helping me to understand who I want to be as a woman and in a relationship. This is my first time being in utter love with this person and I do think that I love him...I have not told him but I am always trying to figure out whether this is the right relationship for me..or whether I am moving too fast or too slow... “ she looked away at her pictures as ____ (Lyon Reader) gave a knowing glance at the timing of her pause to which _____ (Almaty Reader) squinted in curiosity.

“Jongin is….?”

“Gallant. A dancer. A charming smile, and darling laugh. A champion for animals. Beloved of children everywhere. In short, a teddy bear,” _____ (Marseille Reader) answered immediately.

________ (Arizona Reader’s) eyebrows raised in approval as she looked at ______ (London Reader) who was growing ever the more rosy at the descriptions given.

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

(voltron s6 spoilers in the block quote)

this is an excerpt from a wip i started working on after voltron s5 came out....... and was written with the assumption that lotor would continue being a protag in s6 without....... all that.

so i’m tossing it out, but i’ll share it to purge myself—bc i don’t want to delete it completely and bc lotor didn’t completely blindside me, and i have to achieve catharsis somehow

For what seems like forever after she revives the Castle of Lions, Allura is surrounded by the paladins—her friends, babbling and excited, relieved at their survival and her success.

They all interrogate her about Oriande ("A truly marvelous place, I wish you all were able to see it"), the capabilities of her new powers ("I just received them! And really, it's more like knowledge than anything mystical"), what they feel like ("So far, as if something's been unlocked inside of me—as if I could find anything I need if I search hard enough").

Shiro is the most interested in these details, but once Allura has reached the limits of what she can explain, his expression grows distant and distracted. They leave him to his own devices; he gazes out, deep in thought, at the stars and ancient wreckage around them.

Pidge and Hunk puzzle over whether these new developments means Allura can invent new and powerful weapons like Voltron now if they just give her a bunch of metal ("Doubtful, but I appreciate the confidence," Allura says with a laugh), and how well alchemy relates to their understanding of science and engineering.

"Workable so far, but the lack of some analogues makes it pretty confusing," Pidge says.

Hunk shrugs. "I haven't dabbled super hard in it yet, but I think it's been pretty easy to work with on Castle stuff."

They wander off, debating about semantics Allura is perfectly happy being unable to grasp. She smiles and turns her full attention to Lance, who talks cheerfully about how "Pidge and Hunk get bat-crazy intense when they're hyperfocusing on the same thing together." He then dives into a story, which Allura listens to with fascination (and no small amount of confusion), about the time they attempted to create the most scientifically perfect muffin over spring break and had to clean the bathrooms for weeks because they nearly blew up the kitchen.

"What is a muffin?" she asks.

Lance grins. "Do not say that around Hunk unless you want to hear a varga-long lecture about batter and fruit."

As he proceeds to explain muffins, Allura realizes that sometime during the chaos, Lotor slipped out of sight. She quickly glances around, half-listening to Lance's attempt to translate flour, but in between the two of them, Coran running system checks on the Castle, and Shiro silently pondering space, Lotor has vanished.

She frowns.

Eventually, even Shiro departs after a brief, polite goodbye. Patiently and curiously, she listens to Lance describe the concept of a spring break before finally cutting him off.

"You should get some rest, Lance," she says. "You look like you need it."

"Are you saying I look terrible?" he replies with mock outrage.

Allura smiles. "Yes. After all, you did almost suffocate to death quite recently."

Lance's teasing smile morphs into one that acknowledges the truth of her statement. "Then you should get some rest, too, Allura." He touches her shoulder. "After all, you just flew into a white hole and faced down a giant lion guardian... spirit thing."

"Don't worry about me, Lance."

He gives her a look.

Allura laughs. "I promise I will get some rest. But you need it more than I do right now."

Lance smiles and acquiesces. "All right, Allura. See you later." He turns to leave but hesitates, immediately setting off alarm bells in Allura's head.

"Lance?" she asks.

He spins back around. He's frowning. "Don't mention this to anyone, but I think we need to talk later. In private."

Allura only grows more concerned, but she nods sharply. She desperately wants to ask about what—but knows that if she does, the conversation will not end there. Better to wait until later as Lance asks. "All right."

Lance leaves, and Allura sighs.

She needs to talk to Lotor. No rest for her yet, indeed.

"Coran?" she asks, approaching the man still performing tasks on the Castle interface. "Did you happen to see where Lotor wandered off to?"

"No, Princess," he replies. "Would you like me to find him for you?"

"Please."

Coran pulls up the Castle biorhythm sensors, and they both spot what must be his signature at the same time, blinking within the Castle Library.

"Thank you, Coran. I think Lotor must need some company today."

Allura turns to leave, but Coran's very serious "Princess, wait," has her halt before she can take another step. "Yes, Coran?" she asks.

He wrings his hands. "I've been meaning to talk to you about Lotor, Princess."

Allura turns back fully to frown at him.

As a child, Allura was wilder than any Altean crown princess had a right to be. She suffered many minders (and many minders suffered her), but the most persistent was always Coran, far out of his job description—her father's advisor, but in many ways also family.

When she hid from her frustrated tutor in the palace gardens, Coran was the one to pull her out of the bushes, to drag her to her rooms kicking and screaming with his nose turned up and a simple, "Just wait until your mother hears about this," to shut her up. When she got in a fight and had her nose twisted into a crooked mess, Coran was the first one at her side, handkerchief in hand to catch the blood. When she came home after her very first breakup, Coran was the first one to see her tears, his open arms the first ones she fell into.

Even before the war, they were close. Now, with Altea long gone, the only thing they have left of their people, their home, is each other. Allura can hardly blame him for being as protective of her as a mother yalmor is to her poglings.

Nevertheless, her frown is one of frustration. "Coran, I will be fine with Lotor. He has more than proven his devotion to peace. Besides," and she switches to a teasing tone, "I thought you liked him now. Didn't you two have a stimulating conversation a couple days ago about how the Empire romanticizes greed?"

"We did! I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he considered their treatment of the Balmera abominable—which indeed it is. To so abuse such a magnificent creature's life... For a Galra, he has a remarkable passion for sustainable practice." Coran shakes his head. "This is off-topic, Princess. What I wish to talk to you about has nothing to do with liking or disliking him."

Allura crosses her arms. "All right."

Coran sighs. "Princess, I don't mean to imply that your judgment is mistaken. I agree wholeheartedly that Lotor has been an ally to our cause."

"But?"

"But—and please allow me to explain fully, Princess—I don't think Lotor is on our side."

Allura (well-understood by Coran) resists the urge to object and frowns.

"I was your father's advisor for a very long time, Princess," Coran says. "A big part of my job was to judge the characters of those he worked with and give him my own assessments. I want to advise you. Especially since it seems that this relationship has become more than a simple political alliance."

"I'm listening."

"Thank you, Princess. From what I understand, being a team player does not come to Lotor naturally. His plans of attack, too, have been much different from our own. He is used to working on his own, for his own goals."

"His methods and goals are not that different," Allura says. "He told me the reason for his exile. He was resisting the Galra Empire's methods by cooperating equally with a planet he was assigned to rule over. He befriended them, learned their ways, worked side-by-side with them. When Emperor Zarkon discovered what he was doing, he ordered him to destroy the planet. He refused."

"What happened after?"

Allura presses her lips together. "He was dismissed. His father destroyed the planet. He couldn't stop him."

Coran nods. "I see. Princess, this story only assures me that the conclusions I've come to about him are correct. I do agree that Lotor is working with us in good faith, or at least not bad faith. But Lotor has also been working towards his own desires for centuries. Remember what happened when he had been the Emperor Pro Tem. He tricked us into recovering the comet ore. He tried to use our teleduv. And we still have the ship he created from the ore in our hangers."

Allura considers. The ore, a mysterious transreality material; the teleduv, a device that opened wormholes with Altean energy; the Sincline ship, built like Voltron from the transreality ore...

"He must have had some kind of plan to access the space between realities," she concludes. "But we already know that. He's asked us to do so in order to harvest quintessence and appease the Galra Empire. He wants to change them, Coran."

His father, too, wanted quintessence, the distrustful part of her whispers, not for the first time. And Honerva... who is almost certainly Haggar. Lotor thinks optimistically of his mother, but she led the research into the Rift. She could not possibly have been an innocent bystander before her death. She certainly was not afterwards.

"I believe he has good intentions, Princess. If he is lying about everything, it would be difficult indeed to fake the passion and knowledge he has right to our faces. But... do you really believe that this plan will satisfy the Empire, Princess?"

Allura opens her mouth but pauses. She then frowns, growing more concerned and disturbed by the second. "No," she admits. "No, I do not. The Empire is endlessly hungry for power. We may open a rift, but they will simply demand more. Perhaps for the rift to be widened, or for more to be opened. The one alone will be an incalculable risk if it breaches into another dimension. And there is still the matter of what they will use that quintessence for."

She remembers the war—how it began because Emperor Zarkon refused to close the rift destabilizing his planet, providing an entryway for unfathomably dangerous creatures, all for the sake of a power that provided a source of endless clean energy but enabled horrific tyranny. She remembers the alternate Alteans—a universe where she, with the best intentions, preached peace, and whose empire went on 10,000 years later to deprive living creatures of their free will for the sake of those ideals, twisted into grotesque mockery.

It doesn't matter if Lotor has good intentions, she realizes. It doesn't matter if something—something deep and inexplicable within her—wishes that he can be trusted. Allura must look beyond them.

"Lotor was Emperor Zarkon's son, Princess," Coran says, "and the prince of the Galra Empire. For better or worse, he has been indelibly shaped by his past. Perhaps he believed he could bring about change with endless quintessence; it could have been the perfect foundation upon which to build a coup. Perhaps he truly loves Altea, as much as one who has never seen it could. But the fact remains, Princess, that Lotor did not ally with us until the Galra Empire wanted him dead on sight, until he needed our shelter. Why?"

"Why, indeed," Allura murmurs.

"This is why I must insist, Princess, that you remain cautious with him." Coran places his hands on her shoulders, brow furrowed deep. "Lotor is not on our side. He has always been on his own. It is difficult to blame him for it; Emperor Zarkon was clearly far from a loving parental figure. I suspect he has had to fend for himself for 10,000 years with little if any support."

I envy you, growing up with King Alfor.

"I understand, Coran," Allura says, meeting his worried eyes. "I greatly appreciate your advice. And I believe you may be quite right. I promise I will be careful."

Coran smiles. "That's all I ask for, Princess."

He pulls her into a hug, warm and close, and Allura returns the gesture with the same smile.