#also eleven is best bot

[acetheta]

u guys like dr who right smirk emoji (have not watched but. it seems cool and i think i have some random little kaychain from it)

YEAH!!!

[hannieween]

strobe lights | lights out series

Joshua's search for an answer to the frenetic pacing of his life leads him down roads that could cause him more confusion. And fear.

✮ pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 23.2k

› 🎧: gemini – ethan low | i can't read your mind – meloh | you ain't gotta – hojean | house of cards – bts | different – woodz | habit – i.m | blue – v | screen time – epik high ft. hoshi | eleven – twlv ft. bibi | about you – soulbysel, def.

→ season one — season two — read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: anxiety attacks, dark-ish themes, mentions of drugs. smut with plot, toxic joshua is back, mlm action uwu, consensual recordings of sex, jeonghan and joshua are into cucking, dom jeonghan, dom joshua, subby reader, dirty talk, corruption kink, pegging, sort of somnophiliac activities, praise and degradation kink, a long ass threesome, use of the word slut (lovingly), car sex, cum play, cum eating, rimming, slight sadism: face slaps, spanking. masturbation, blowjobs, anal sex, rimming, double penetration, cumming on skin, edging. pet names: baby, bunny, princess, filthy girl, good girl, sweetheart (hers) baby, babe, good boy (jihan) ✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there everyone! just here with the usual note to indicate that instances where the words Bunny, Princess, or Baby are capitalized, are meant to signify Y/N, ok? ok. ty Baby (●'◡'●) ✮ author's note pt. 2: this is not proofread. i apologize in advance. ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part v

The elevator doors parted with a soft ding. Joshua stepped out, walking down the hallway on the floor he used to live in long ago. He stopped in front of your apartment door, breathing in slowly to calm the tightness in his chest. Bringing a hand up, he knocked three times and waited.

In his hand, he held a bottle of red wine. Joshua did not even know if the dinner went along with it. He preferred whisky. But he would let it slide, for tonight.

The door opened. “Ah, Joshuji! Welcome back!” his best friend chanted, instantly bringing him to a hug. “What’s this?” Jeonghan grabbed the bottle of wine, pretending to read the label. “I don’t know anything about wines.”

“Me neither,” Joshua replied dryly, looking at the interior space. Everything was tidied, his noise amplifiers had been removed and, in their place, stood a bookshelf with your first books displayed. He noticed; that those looked like the books you wrote before you met him.

“Wait here, let me go get her. I think she was taking a nap but, she’s so excited,” Jeonghan said briefly, settling the bottle of wine on the table and turning to the bedroom. “Baby! Wake up, there’s a surprise for you!”

The bookshelf also hosted a pair of pictures of you, one where Jeonghan was kissing your cheek. Before he could see the other one, his best friend came back, the thing in his chest hugged his heart even harder. You were striding close behind Jeonghan, your hand wrapped in his.

“Hi, Joshua,” you meekly stuck your hand out to him. “Jeonghan has told me about you,” a smile painted your pretty face. “Nice to meet you.”

The thing in his chest burst, making him freeze right there and then. Before he could control his body, his hand was reaching yours, in a handshake. The softness of your fingers. It felt right, it was you. You. His Bunny.

“Nice to meet you too,” he forced out.

A sharp intake of breath snapped him back to life. Sitting up in the bed, his senses were catching up. His hand palmed the bed, the spot beside him.

Only to find it vacant. You were not there; this was not your bed. He sat alone in a hotel room.

Joshua let out a breath, bringing his hands to rub his face, trying to calm himself down. He sniffed quietly, trying to hold back the pain throbbing inside his chest.

He searched for his phone in the dark, squinting at the light coming from the screen as he searched for your name. The last text message from you read, Going to bed. I love you! It was sent two hours ago. There was no reply from him.

His thumb trembled slightly before he pressed on the call button. But he held in his breath and pressed the phone to his ear. He still felt hazy, with the last slivers of his nightmare clawing into the back of his head.

“Hello?” he mumbled as soon as he noticed you picked up his call.

“Hi baby,” you replied sluggishly.

“I’m sorry,” he dropped his head slightly. “I’m waking you up.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice went up slightly.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” he replied, the thing in his chest stammered painfully.

“Is everything okay, Josh? You sound off,” you pointed, and he could almost picture the frown in your face.

“Yeah, baby, everything’s okay,” he replied, a low rasp from the feeling coiling in his throat made his tone sound unsure. “I just miss you terribly.”

You could tell that those last words made his voice thicker. “I miss you too, baby,” you replied sweetly. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Next week, baby, I promise,” he whispered, rubbing the tips of his fingers on the corners of his eyes. “I’ll let you sleep now, okay?”

You paused. “Sure you’re okay, babe?”

The worry he heard in your voice soothed a part of the nasty feeling pulsating in his chest. “Yes, baby, don’t worry,” he mumbled with all of the assertiveness he could muster. “You can go back to sleep now, I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll go back to sleep, but call me tomorrow as soon as you can, please.”

“I’ll do that,” he smiled to himself, trying to picture your sleepy eyes. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Joshua,” you mumbled sweetly. “Sleep well.”

“You too, baby.”

The line went dead, and you lay your head on your fluffy pillows. After returning your phone to the nightstand, you sighed.

A hand quickly came to park on your tummy. “What’s wrong?” Jeonghan mumbled with a sleepy drawl.

“It was Joshua,” you explained faintly. “He had a nightmare.”

“Mmn, again?” Jeonghan asked, rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“He didn’t say it, but that’s what I assume.”

“But is he okay?”

“I don’t think so. He didn’t sound like it,” you whispered glumly. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk these past few days, but he swears he doesn’t remember anything.”

“We’ll go see him in a few days,” he shushed, caressing your hair to uncover your face to his eyes. “Don’t worry about him right now, baby. We can’t help him from here.”

“I just don’t want him to go into hiding again,” you mumbled faintly, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck.

Jeonghan shivered slightly upon the gentle caress of your breath on his skin. “I’ll break him out of it if that’s what it takes,” he replied with certainty. “Now sleep, baby. Got a big day ahead tomorrow. We got to work.”

“Yeah…” you breathed against his neck, placing a small kiss. “Sleep.”

Joshua crafted a routine for himself. While on tour he had to learn one thing: he needed to have order. There was no room for worry, so he would not let his anxieties grow. So, he would call you everyday, although sometimes he could not get to your text messages on time, he made a rule to call you at least once a day.

He would hit the gym every chance he could get, and if there was no gym, he would go out for a run late at night, or before sunrise. Then of course, he would go to work: whether it was at a concert, or interviews, events, photoshoots…

However, there was something else happening within that routine too.

He woke up with a start, snapping his eyes open and sighed with frustration at the loud alarm vibrating beneath his pillow. He shut the high-pitched sound at once, letting his face sink onto the white fluffy pillows with a tired groan.

As he stretched out his limbs underneath the bed sheets, he turned over rubbing his eyes with the back of his knuckles.

Another sigh, he unlocked his phone, checking his schedule for the day, verifying he had three hours until his first activity. Then he moved onto checking the messages he had not attended to, discarding mentally those that seemed unimportant and pressing a thumb over your name.

Call me as soon as you can, please. I love you. Your message read. It was sent a couple of minutes after the phone call last night. If he called you right now, he would wake you up again. He could call you later.

The pad of his thumb slid up, swiftly finding the app where you shared a folder with him, and with Jeonghan. His heart banged against his chest. Is it normal to be this excited so early in the morning?

There were new files added to the secret folder that Jeonghan created a little less than a month ago. Lately, he had been getting a new video more regularly. Joshua wondered why the first few weeks of him going away he did not get anything.

But now, it seemed to him that you and Jeonghan had found a way to keep him updated… and busy. This was his routine. Wake up, check for new messages, watch your videos, work, come back to the hotel, call you, rewatch videos, sleep.

Now, he never considered himself a person that would watch porn. Not regularly, not even by mistake. Not because he did not like it. But because if he wanted to get his hands dirty, he would do so with someone who would have him. He was not interested in watching porn when he could do the real thing with someone.

But watching you like this changed his view in so many ways. He found out that he was wrong for thinking porn was not for people like him.

When he asked Jeonghan and you to keep him updated, he did it purely because he did not want to be left out. He knew he would miss seeing this side of you, so that was one of his conditions.

Joshua also found out, how well Jeonghan knew him.

He always begun his morning by watching one video Jeonghan recorded of you. The angle was perfect, it captured your body lying on the bed, so he could see perfectly from your hips to your face. Jeonghan’s hand pressed a toy to your wet pussy, pleasuring you without letting you stop for air.

“Jeonghan, please,” you whined, teary eyed, hands clutching the towel beneath your body.

“Please, what?” he asked, his voice low and almost aloof, much as if he were also caught up by the faces you made, and the sounds escaping your glossy lips.

“F-fuck me, just fuck me,” you cried out, your face scrunching as you moaned lewdly, thighs shaking uncontrollably. “Please…”

“Why should I?” he retorted. “Aren’t you enjoying this, baby? You’ve came five… how many times already?”

“Se-seven,” you mumbled shamefully, twitching on the bed.

Jeonghan pressed his finger on one of the tiny buttons of the vibrator he was holding against your clit. “Eight makes a nice number, don’t you think?” he asked.

Joshua hated that he knew by the tone alone that Jeonghan was wearing a smirk behind the camera. He knew his best friend so well that he had learned all his gimmicks. The vibrator went faster, teasing your engorged clit mercilessly.

“G-god, Hannie,” you gritted your teeth, closing your eyes tightly. “I’m coming, fuck, fuck, I’m g-gonna come.”

You stirred your back on the bed, sinking the back of your head on the pillow as you came, moaning loudly and so very lewdly. “Fuck, you’re squirting again, baby,” Jeonghan sighed, capturing your climax on camera.

“Please, no more,” you whined, teary eyed and panting. “I just need you, please, please.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan muttered, turning off the vibrator and tossing it aside.

But the video did not stop there. Jeonghan moved the phone closer between your legs, making sure Joshua saw your puffy clit, slick in your arousal, Jeonghan’s fingers slid between your folds, a string of arousal stretching between them.

Joshua’s cock stirred beneath his boxers, and he begun palming himself upon the sight of your messy cunt, the arousal dripping down the wet towel beneath you. The fingers spread your folds open, as you clenched around nothing with the aftershocks of the orgasm that forced through you.

The next video was one of his favorites.

It seemed to him that you barely had the chance to set up your phone camera pointing to you. You and Jeonghan were both sitting on the small couch of your office, you were facing the camera, your back pressed to Jeonghan’s chest.

Joshua liked to think that you chose this position so he could see your face. And it was probably the case. He stroked his cock with one hand, blood rushing to the tip as he spread his own precum all over it.

On this video, you were sitting on Jeonghan, riding him fast. You leaned back slightly so the camera perfectly captured you bouncing up and down Jeonghan’s dick. Your moans are quiet... until they were not when Jeonghan’s fingers came to the view, slipping between your pussy lips, rubbing your clit with fast swirls.

You came on top of him, clutching your thighs with your hands. Writhing, but you continued riding him, a moan escaping Joshua when Jeonghan’s cum dripped down his dick, as you continue fucking yourself on him.

Joshua swipes a finger onto the next video, where you are on all fours while Jeonghan fucks you from behind. He pumped himself faster, watching you come on Jeonghan’s cock over and over as he comes in his own hand.

Jeonghan fucks you as though he were having fun, when he fucks you, he does so playfully. There is a smile on his face as he grabs your ass, fucking you down his cock. The features of his beautiful face are riddled by bliss and pleasure, his throat bobs as he moans.

Every time Joshua watches this, he wishes he were in Jeonghan’s place; feeling you squeeze around him, your warmth wrapping him. But sometimes, if he dared to admit it, he enjoys watching his best friend’s face as he comes with you.

Joshua sent a glance down his lower abdomen, a few beads of cum splayed on his skin. But he ignored it, swiping again on the screen to take a look at the new video Jeonghan uploaded.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

The video was inside Jeonghan’s car. The phone was mounted on the dashboard, capturing both Jeonghan at the wheel, and you on the passenger seat. Jeonghan was stroking your hair as you were leaning over to him, taking his cock in your mouth.

Jeonghan let out a breath through his teeth. “Fuck,” he gritted, letting his head fall back on the headrest of his seat.

You bobbed your head slowly on him, probably on his command so he did not come too fast.

Something you did with your mouth made Jeonghan laugh. “Fuck, baby, stop doing that or I might come too soon. We’re almost there.”

The lighting inside the car changed, quickly surrounding yourselves by an enclosed space that Joshua quickly assumed was an underground parking lot.

Jeonghan gripped the steering wheel tighter, biting his lower lip as he managed to park the car in a spot, shutting the engine off swiftly.

You lifted your head from his crotch, darting a shy glance around you before clicking your seat belt off. “Move your seat back,” you urged, palming his thigh suggestively.

Joshua was surprised to see you take the light slap Jeonghan gave you on one cheek. “Don’t boss me around,” he used the same hand to cup your chin, squeezing your cheeks to then kiss you chastely.

But he did what you asked anyway, pushing his seat back as you shifted onto your knees on his sides. You moved your hair to one shoulder, uncovering your face to the camera as you leaned over to continue sucking his dick.

Joshua continued watching, languidly playing with his cock as the blood rushed again to the head, growing harder and harder. He encircled his shaft with his fist, pumping himself to full hardness, groaning under his breath as Jeonghan brought a hand down on your ass, spanking you firmly.

Jeonghan drew in a breath, stretching his back in an attempt to resist the pleasure building up inside him. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, baby,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly.

Joshua rolled his hand on his own cock, pumping fast as he remembered how good your pretty mouth feels when you pleasure him; he imagined he was there instead of Jeonghan. You whimpered on Jeonghan’s cock, making him moan as he gathered your hair with his hands, following the movements of your head on him.

“Why don’t we show Joshuji what you’re wearing, baby?” Jeonghan asked, his voice was already turning raspy in wanton.

Joshua’s heart stammered upon hearing his own name being voiced by Jeonghan on the video. This occurred with frequency, and he knew this was Jeonghan's way to taunt him, even through videos.

You paused, pulling off his cock to nod with your head. “Yes, Hannie,” you replied sweetly, but leaned down to continue blowing him off.

“You’re so fucking needy you couldn’t wait till we got home to show him,” Jeonghan rasped, keeping a hand on your hair as he used the other to hike your black mini skirt up, revealing an equally black string thong and stockings.

Joshua shifted his gaze from the side of your face to Jeonghan’s hand caressing your ass gently, pausing to give you a playful spank to make you moan.

Jeonghan sighed, closing his eyes in enjoyment. “Fuck, baby. I need you now,” he urged, releasing your hair.

You stopped sucking him off, pushing yourself from your seat and crawling onto Jeonghan’s lap, clumsily straddling him on his seat. Jeonghan reclined the seat back, making you giggle shyly in the heat of the rushed moment. 

Joshua felt disappointed now that he could not get a view on your face. But the feeling was quickly replaced when Jeonghan hiked your skirt up again, uncovering your ass to the camera. Then he understood why he had not seen that thong on you before; it was one of those that left your pussy uncovered completely.

Joshua got a clear view of your hand guiding Jeonghan’s cockhead to your entrance, hearing your whimpers as you sank down on his cock, moving your pretty ass slowly, as though adjusting yourself on him.

“God,” you whimpered, dropping your head on his shoulder as you bounced on Jeonghan gently at first.

Joshua moaned deeply. All focus was on the sight of Jeonghan’s cock disappearing inside your pussy. You were picking up the pace, cupping one of his cheeks to bring him into a kiss to muffle your sweet moans.

“Are you enjoying this?” Jeonghan asked longingly looking at the features of your face.

“Yes Hannie,” you nodded dazedly.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he murmured, a light smirk painting his face. “You should’ve told me you wanted to fuck in my car sooner.”

It was the first time you had sex in a car, and it was even more exciting than when you first brought it up to Jeonghan. You and Jeonghan had been playing a game of chasing new first times, together.

Ever since he took you in a dressing room of a clothing store, an idea sparked in your head. And now, you were there, in his car, grinding on him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Jeonghan sighed in pure pleasure, his hands gripping your waist over your skirt. “I need you to come now, princess.”

“I-,” you choked out, and Joshua could hear the shyness in your tone. “I can’t, Hannie. I’m a little sensitive.”

“But you were begging to have my cock last night,” he rasped, a lazy smile drawing on his face.

“Hannie,” you gasped aghast, but Joshua noticed how your hips stuttered.

“What? Don’t you want Josh to know? How you couldn’t stop bouncing this little pussy on me last night?” he asked, but his tone sounded even more gruff and airy. Joshua knew by the tone alone that he was closer.

“Hannie,” you cried reproachful.

“Your pretty pussy needs to be filled everyday, right baby?” he looked at you languidly. “Come, baby,” he rasped. “Be a good slut for me.” 

It seemed to Joshua that in his time away, his best friend had just discovered how much you liked to be talked filth. You nodded frantically, riding him faster.

“G-god, just like that,” Jeonghan grunted blissfully, gripping your waist tighter, hiking the skirt up your back, so Joshua could see the recoil of your ass on Jeonghan’s thighs every time you sank down on him.

Joshua moaned, unable to yank his gaze from the screen. You were riding him faster, eagerly. Jeonghan smiled playfully at you, sighing in pure pleasure.

“Jeonghan,” you whimpered, rolling your hips on his dick with full desperation. “Hannie, I’m close. God, I’m so close.”

“Yes, c-come on my cock, baby,” Jeonghan replied, evidently enjoying how pathetic you were being. His arms encircled your waist hugging you as you hid your face flush on his shoulder. “God, god, princess.”

“Hannie…” you cried out lewdly on his neck, your hands holding onto his shirt for dear life. His arms held you tighter, sighing out a strangled moan as he came with you.

“You’re so good for me,” Jeonghan muttered gruffly, clearly spent. “So good.”

You stopped riding him languidly, his hands now moving on your sides to push your hips up, spreading your pussy lips with his hands as his cum started dripping out of your entrance.

Joshua clenched his jaw, groaning deeply as ropes of cum landed on his fist, closing his eyes so tightly he saw stars. The video was cut there, and he stared at it as he panted, trying to recover and process how much he had liked seeing Jeonghan’s cum dripping out of your used hole.

He threw his phone aside, languidly letting his arms rest for some seconds before he rose from the bed, going directly to start the shower. Standing under the warm shower stream, a thought crossed his mind.

It had seemed as though you and Jeonghan were cruising some kind of honeymoon stage. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you looked in love. And he knew his best friend for long enough to know that he was head over heels for you too.

The only thing he hated though, was that he was not as present in your life.

He came back to the bedroom to find his phone vibrating on the mattress, and he picked it up after reading your name on the screen. As he took the phone to his ear, he stopped at in surprise at the sight of your face, understanding it was a video call.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, clearly noticing that he had thought you were phone calling him. You were still in bed, bundled up in blankets, an arm tucked under your head.

“Oh, hi beautiful,” he replied in kind, his hair dripping wet on his shoulders.

“Did I catch you in a wrong time?” you asked, looking at his naked collarbones covered in droplets of water.

“No, baby. It’s fine, I was about to get ready for my day,” he shrugged lightly and looked for a place to prop his phone so he could get dressed.

“Hannie is here,” you mentioned as Joshua placed his phone against the lamp on the bedside table.

Jeonghan lifted his head from the pillow beside yours. “Hi, Joshuji,” he chanted groggily.

“Hi, Jeonghannie,” he replied with a light smile on his face. The image of you and Jeonghan in bed was not strange to him, as that also formed part of his routine sometimes. “Did you guys just wake up?” he asked, turning to fish a pair of clean boxers from his bag.

“Yeah, like two minutes ago,” Jeonghan groaned with clear annoyance that you were already on your phone video calling Joshua.

You giggled meekly. “Don’t get grumpy,” you teased as the man shifted from his pillow to your chest, getting comfortable on top of your body.

“You don’t let me sleep, so you’ll suffer my grumpiness,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes. “How are you doing, Joshuji? You look tired.”

“I am tired,” he said.

“You have bags under your eyes,” Jeonghan added with a slight mischievous smirk.

“Shut up,” he hissed, feeling his own lips stretching into a smile as well. “You look pale and wrinkly.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” his best friend retorted. “Maybe you should take some days off.”

“Stop it, you two,” you huffed, and Joshua giggled bemusedly at your annoyed face.

“Did you watch the videos?” Jeonghan lifted his head only to blurt out that question, you rolled your eyes at him.

“I did,” Joshua coughed out a dry chuckle. “You two have been really busy.”

He stared squarely at the screen of his phone for a second before unwrapping the towel from his waist, trying to ignore that both you and Jeonghan would see him putting on his boxers.

“Ah, a little warning next time!” Jeonghan grumbled, turning his head on your chest as you chuckled.

Chewing on your lower lip to avoid smiling wider you placed a hand on the back of Jeonghan’s head. “Are you busy today, Josh?” you asked sweetly.

Joshua could not help but smiling at the sight of you being soft with both him and Jeonghan at the same time. A warm feeling bloomed inside him. “Yeah,” he replied to your question with a sigh, fetching a t-shirt as he put it on. “I have a packed schedule today. We have to shoot a couple of interviews back-to-back. But then I’ll have a whole day to myself.”

Your fingers started playing with Jeonghan’s long dark hair. “Mmn, you should come straight back here,” you murmured softly.

“I’d love that, baby,” he replied in kind, pouting at you before giving you a smile. “I guess I could grab the earliest flight after I’m done,” he said, following your game.

You knew this was nearly impossible. Not only did Joshua had a ton of activities to do to promote his new album, but you knew how much money it was put towards transportation. Flights were expensive.

But Jeonghan turned his head over, sneaking a look back on the screen. “Our flight is in six days; we could do something.”

Joshua saw in his eyes that he had started to plan but looked at you and then back at him. “Yeah, probably. I’ll check,” Joshua said with a dismissive air, but kept looking at his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you do that,” Jeonghan replied, but sent him a meaningful look.

“Right,” he sighed. “I gotta go, baby. I’ll call you later tonight,” he paused. “Bye, Jeonghannie.”

“Bye, Josh,” you mumbled sweetly, giving him a sad smile. “Love you.”

“I love you,” he replied.

“Love you, Shujiii,” Jeonghan chanted mockingly, grabbing the phone from your hand and ended the call.

“This color suits you.”

Joshua looked at the woman in front of him. She was young, the bright glimmer in her eyes told him that much. Her long dark hair was draped on her shoulders, covered with a nice pink blouse that was just adorned with a microphone.

“Thank you,” he replied, mustering up a kind smile.

“Where are the others?” she asked, looking around him.

“They’re getting their makeup done. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he looked at his watch.

“Oh, cool. That gives me time to reread my questions,” she showed him a smirk, looking up and down her cards and then back to his eyes.

If Joshua meant to read that smirk, he kept himself from doing so. Nodding at her politely, he just stepped back. “Okay. I’ll tell them to get ready,” he lied just to excuse himself, turning back to the dressing room.

He pulled out his phone, unlocking it to find a series of texts messages from you. You usually updated him throughout the day, whenever you felt like the chat you had together was running dry.

So he found a series of photo. First it was a photo of you coming out of bed, holding a fist at the camera in sign of motivation. Have a nice day, Joshie! Your text read. The next photo was the breakfast you made for two, though obviously one plate was for Jeonghan, Joshua found himself smiling. You had made French toast, and that alone reminded you of Joshua.

The last picture was your favorite mug, broken in pieces on the floor, coffee splashed all around it. Jeonghan scared me and I dropped my mug (┬┬﹏┬┬), the text read.

But before Joshua could reply, a member of the staff working on the production of the big company they were being interviewed by called them. They had their go.

“Come on, let’s go! Let’s go, let’s go,” Jihoon chanted over and over, more to himself than to the other two members of Midnight Haze.

“Let’s go,” Vernon replied dryly, but in his own enthusiastic way. 

Joshua just nodded and went along with his two bandmates, walking through the tight space of the long hallway. He grew more and more restless as he reached the end of the hall and then the double doors.

The studio was small, and it looked even more cramped by the sound and lighting equipment, the sets of cameras surrounding the set, and the people tracking every single thing that happened during the filming of the interview.

This was not the first time Midnight Haze was interviewed. But it was certainly the first time with such a big production team. This was going to be aired on TV.

And he did not know what to expect.

A very smart PR company was going with Midnight Haze since they started touring again. But not everything was under their control, and as they grew more and more famous, people would naturally start picking them apart, piece by piece.

Needless to say, Joshua was nervous. Fidgeting with the watch on his wrist. He pushed his sleeves once more to his elbows, though pointlessly since they were rolled tight.

One man indicated each member of the band where to sit. And it was not a surprise that Joshua was told to sit diagonally to the interviewer.

Anxiety hugged his chest tightly, but he tried to push it down, swallowing hard and resting his palms on his lap.

“Going on five… four… three…” the man motioned with his fingers, two, one. Go.

All the cameras blinked with a red light, rolling. Joshua Looked at Jihoon and Vernon sitting beside him, looking alive in excitement and nervousness.

“And we are back, and we have a new guest in the studio, Midnight Haze!” the interviewer said, Maddy, Joshua reminded himself, her name is Maddy. She went on to giving a brief introduction to the viewers.

Midnight Haze was an independent band that grew rapidly to success. Or dubbed in the media as, Overnight Success, which Joshua thought was a dumb way to call their years of hard work, years of making music, framing their style, doing their best to put themselves out there.

But the media loves crafting stories. That is their job.

“So tell us more about your album,” Maddy prompted, looking expectantly at the three men sitting in the nice velvety red couch.

Naturally, Joshua had taken the position to answer to these questions, since he was considered the leader of the band, being the eldest, and the frontman. So he just replied. “It’s our first studio album. We worked really really hard to make it, and it means a lot for us to get this opportunity to share it with the world.

The following question was about the production of the album, which Jihoon replied to, taking the opportunity to speak as well, since he was the one who was the most well-versed in talking about songwriting and production.

Vernon took the next question was about touring, and visiting new places, getting to know new things and try new foods.

And lastly, the interview took a turn, diving into questions that sounded more personal. At first, Joshua thought nothing of it since it was a natural thing for media to put them in a tight spot. It was like an experiment, dropping a bomb of a question and see how they would react, make a viral video out of it.

But then, Joshua felt that he was being mocked at.

“Joshua, you had recently gained a reputation of yourself. You’re a bit of a ladies’ man. Want to talk to us about it?” she read her cards, lowering them to her lap with some nervousness. Then eyeing the text on her card and then back to his face, she added. “The people want to know, is there a certain someone in your life?”

Joshua felt as though a hand had squeezed the air out of his lungs. “Uh, no, no there isn’t,” he replied, adding a cough to clear his throat. Then realizing how he was acting, he put in quickly. “I am a free man.”

Joshua Hong, you idiot. He gritted his teeth, throwing a forced smile at the interviewer.

“Free as the wind,” Jihoon added awkwardly, making Vernon squeeze his face into a grimace, chuckling.

“Well that is all the questions I have for you today. Thank you for coming here!” Maddy clasped her hands together, flashing them a corporate smile.

“Thank you for having us,” Joshua replied. The staff member signaled them that the recording was over, and the crew swept in, getting ready to call it a day.

Joshua jumped from the couch, wanting to rip the microphone from his clothes, but someone got to it first, removing it with care before he did something reckless.

He needed a drink.

He undid one button of his white shirt, sighing in frustration and deciding to head back to the van and wait for the guys there.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Joshua turned to see Maddy approaching him. He made sure that the mic was nowhere to be seen, but he still felt weary as he nodded.

“I’m sorry about the last question, if it felt invasive,” she muttered awkwardly, looking around her before blurting: “I didn’t write it in, I didn’t want to ask it, but the team insisted.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, though he tried to sound as understanding as possible, there was an edge to his words. “I’ll better get used to you lot and your questions, right?”

Before he could take in the hurt expression of her face, Joshua turned his back on her, heading to the van.

IS JOSHUA TELLING THE TRUTH?

That was the title to the video that had gone viral within hours. As soon as the interview went live, people started picking it apart. Some to show their true support, some for pure entertainment.

Unfortunately, the latter was the one that gained strength. In a matter of hours, Joshua started seeing a slew, of comments linking the video for him to see. And when people started messaging him, he got worried.

So he ventured on the wild river that was the internet, quickly wishing he had not done so.

The video was a mix of other pictures and videos put together. Bits and pieces of the interview where he was asked about his recent reputation, and his stiff answer were compared to what was a theory crafted by someone who called themselves a follower.

What Joshua saw made the hairs of his nape stand. Is he telling the truth? The caption to the video read. And then he saw his own face, heard his own voice deflect the rumours by saying he was single.

And then, he saw you in the video.

It was just the outline of your body, and he could barely make out your face between the shadows of the photo. He tried to figure when and where this photo was taken, growing more and more restless when he came up with nothing. One thing Joshua new, someone he did not know took this photo.

Jeonghan was in the photo as well, walking behind you, grabbing your hand. The photo framed you as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. But then, the next photo showed you as well, wearing the same outfit, Joshua entering your building with you. Is this girl Joshua’s girlfriend? That was the theory.

The video meant nothing, there could be a thousand videos put together like this. But the damning thing was that it had gained traction, and with it, people that had a million things to say.

A thing which, Joshua dreaded like nothing else.

“Isn’t this going overboard, Hannie?” you asked innocently, setting down the towel on the couch.

“Is it?” he mused, humming as he propped the tripod on the coffee table, adjusting the camera to focus on the couch, and you sitting down on it, putting your hands neatly on your lap.

“I mean you even bought a camera for this,” you muttered between your teeth.

“That’s not true, I already owned this. I did buy the tripod, though,” he pressed the record button. “Wave to the camera, baby,” he instructed softly.

“Do you think Josh will like it?” you waved at the camera aloofly as it captured your movement, adjusting to the lighting of the living room perfectly.

“Mmn, I will,” he smiled at you, rising from his knees to approach you.

You tilted your head back, looking at him with bright eyes. “I know you will, baby,” you replied cutely at him. “But I also want Josh to like it.”

Jeonghan stopped to consider the idea for a second. “I think that he’ll like it too,” he shrugged. “We’ve never talked about our preferences around porn, but I know that he likes you.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

“Ready?” he asked, pinching your chin affectionately.

“Are you?” you grinned, causing him to click his tongue. “Yes, I’m ready Hannie.”

“Lie down, baby,” he motioned to the couch with his head.

“But don’t I—,” you stopped yourself before you could ask. “Mmf,” you hummed as you moved lying your head down on one large cushion as he pressed a knee on the couch, then the other.

“I want to kiss you first,” he explained once his chest was pressed to yours. “Come here,” he whispered, grabbing your cheek with one hand as he captured your lips with his.

“Mmn,” you responded so well to his touch, arching your back on the seats, your fingers sinking in his dark hair, pushing it back.

“You know that I love you, right?” he muttered with a gruff tone, pressing another kiss on your lower lip.

You nodded. “And I love you, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile, moving your hands to meet his waist.

Jeonghan shuddered, your hands slipped under his white hoodie, caressing the skin of his tummy. His eyelids fluttered a little, just as he bent down to kiss you again. “Not so fast, princess,” he grunted in your mouth, parting so he could flash you a grin.

“Don’t I get to call the shots tonight?” you teased, sliding your hands up his torso.

Jeonghan snickered. “Not really,” he lifted his arms as you slipped the white hoodie off him, discarding it on the floor without much thought.

“But you’re letting me undress you,” you mused, receiving his face with your hands as he gave you another long, passionate kiss, lips smooching against each other as you hummed.

His hand found the zipper of your hoodie now, sliding it downwards. “Because you’re letting me undress you.”

You silently watched him as he slowly discovered that you wore nothing beneath that hoodie. He had suspected it when he arrived at your apartment but finding it out was even more exciting. “No bra?” he smirked when you just nodded with a sheepish grin. “Is this the same case for your panties too?” he nodded at your short pajamas.

“No, Hannie,” you giggled at his question. The sound bubbly and full of joy.

His ears perked up at this. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course I am,” you cooed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair that tangled with his long eyelashes.

“Don’t be,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

“I want you to like it, Hannie,” you explained, your smile fading slowly as you gave in fully to the reason of your uncertainty.

“Don’t worry, I’ll like it,” he pressed his lips in a reassuring smile.

“Because you like me?” you quipped, referring back to what he had said about Joshua.

“Ah, but this is different,” he coughed up a chuckle. “You’re the one who’s going to, how did you put it?” he tilted his head with a dramatic pause. “Fuck me?”

That made the giggle return, brightening your face. “Hannie!” you said, pushing his shoulder a little.

“You will do all the work, I’m just going to tell you how,” he shrugged slightly, given that his arm was still pressed on the couch, propping his weight.  

Your smile faded once again, your eyes getting lost in the features of his beautiful face.

“What?” he noticed. “Are you starting to regret this, baby?”

“No, no,” you choked out. “I’m just—I wanna do this now,” you nodded.

“Slow down, princess,” he reminded you with a soft tone, leaning his face so he could meet your lips with his. “There’s no need to rush.”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you whispered shakily in between kisses. “Please.”

He let a soft breath through his nose. The pressure wrapping his heart was overwhelming him. “Okay,” he conceded, though it had not taken too much insisting.

You both moved on the couch, so he was now the one lying down, with you sitting on top of him. His hands reached out to grab the sides of your zip hoodie, tugging the sleeves clumsily to get them off you. You backed up, helping him take your hoodie off and dropped it on top of Jeonghan’s.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he gasped, grabbing you by your waist as you leaned over to litter his face and neck with kisses.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you mumbled with a sigh, his hands were sliding up the line of your back, causing you to shiver. “You-you’re beautiful too.”

Jeonghan giggled. “Thanks, babe.”

You were creating a trail of kisses, starting first with his neck. He had a prominent Adam’s apple, which you kissed and adorned with a small hickey. Jeonghan tensed as you suckled on his skin, closing his eyes, and letting his mouth part.

You had never really marked him before, not because you had not wanted to, but because he would not let you. It was a game of his: not letting you touch him or pull his hair during sex, that also included hickeys.

But he was a different man now. Fully committed to you. It may be silly, but to you it seemed fair.

“Baby,” he breathed languidly, focusing on your lips on his skin only. He felt himself start to grow harder under his sweats.

“Mn?” you darted a look at him, only to find him peacefully enjoying your mouth on him.

“Keep going,” he muttered.

You smiled at him, which he did not see. But you lowered your head again, raking his chest with your fingernails as you suckled a lovebite on one of his collarbones.

It was as if the roles were reversed. You were usually the one pleading him to keep going, to go harder or faster. But in reality, you were still waiting for his command, following it with no second thought.

Slowly, you had created a small trail of red spots that led below his belly button, where he was strangely sensitive as your fingertips grazed his skin before slipping them beneath the elastic band of his boxers.

“Shit,” he whispered as you delivered another red mark on the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“You’re a bit sensitive down here, aren’t you?” you teased with a small grin.

“Shut up,” he groaned, opening his eyes to find you straightening up to tug his sweats boxers down.

You laughed at his annoyance as he pushed his hips up, letting you tug his navy-blue boxers and black sweats down, discarding his warm clothes on the floor.

You got to work at once, sitting on your knees between his legs. “Can I suck you off, Hannie?”

It was a question that he did not need to reply to. As your hand circled his shaft, he nodded, swallowing hard as you pumped him a few times, getting the tip to swell and redden with arousal rushing fast to it.

“Yeah, please do,” he murmured faintly, tipping his head back on the cushion as you pressed a kiss on his pretty cockhead.

“Hmm,” you breathed, wrapping your mouth around it, tasting the salty precum leaking from the slit. “Have I ever told you that I think your cock is pretty?”

Jeonghan started chuckling, chest vibrating with the sound of it. “That was the first thing you said when you looked at it, baby,” he remarked, reminiscing of the first night you saw him naked.

“Mn, I think it’s pretty,” you nodded aloofly, pumping him on his base as you leaned your head to take him back into your mouth.

“All yours,” he whispered, parting his lips in pleasure as you bobbed your head on him, sliding your mouth on his cock. “God, you’re so good at this.”

All he heard was a muffled laugh. His hands grabbed your hair, eyes shut tightly as you continued to give him head him eagerly, slurping sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked him off as if your life depended on it. Your tongue swirled around his cockhead, sucking his length every time you pulled your head up. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he gritted, seeing stars. “Baby, stop—stop. I don’t wanna come so soon.”

You pulled out of his cock a second after his rushed pleas came out of his mouth, looking at him wide eyed as he breathed hard. His fingers slipped off your hair, hands falling on his sides languidly as he eyed you meekly.

“All good?” you whispered.

He nodded with his head on the large cushion. “Yeah,” his mouth slowly stretched in a smile. “All good.”

You leaned over his body when his hand reached out to grab you, cupping your cheek as you met his lips with your own. You moaned into the kiss when his tongue swiftly swiped a line on your lower lip, finding your tongue with a moan on his part.

“Are you wet, baby?” he asked, his voice thickened with arousal.

“Don’t you want to find that out?” you smirked playfully at him.

“Tsk,” he tutted. “You’re bratty today.”

But you giggled in triumph when his hand sneaked down your lower tummy, past the band of your pajama shorts and panties to cup your pussy, feeling the warmth and wetness pooling in there.

“Princess, you’re soaked,” he gasped, feeling your panties damp against the back of his fingers. “Do you enjoy sucking me off that much?”

You stole a kiss nodding at him, a moan escaping between your lips when he dipped a finger inside your entrance, followed by another. 

“Mm, baby, I want to feel you right now,” he purred in your mouth, pumping his fingers in and out, but doing it teasingly, knowing that it would get you nowhere near your climax.

“Oh, y-yes, Hannie,” you curled up against him, pushing your hips towards his hand, trying to get him to reach the spot in your walls you liked him to finger so much. You pushed your pajama shorts down to your knees, tugging your panties down as well in eagerness.

Jeonghan smiled, seeing that you were so distracted by your newfound pleasure that you forgot what the plan was initially. “So you don’t want to fuck me anymore?” he teased playfully, conscious of the word choice he was using.

Your eyes fluttered open, a light frown appearing on your face. “No—I still want to.”

You clumsily stepped out of your pajama shorts and your ruined panties, discarding them also with the rest of the clothes on the floor. Now, you were both fully unclothed and ready for each other.

Your cheeks were painted with heat, lips glossy and puckered as you sneaked a kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Tell me what to do?” you muttered, your tone quivering but still managing to sound cute to his ears.

“Relax,” he instructed first, squeezing your hip fondly. “Grab the bottle of lube, Princess,” he told you softly, and you reached back for the bottle of lube that you almost forgot on the coffee table, taking the freedom to also grab the toy sitting beside it.

Jeonghan pushed one knee up, the sole of his foot still planted on the couch as you scooted closer between his legs. “Remember how we do this, baby?” he called, making you yank your gaze from his naked body splayed on the couch and found his eyes.

It took you a second to understand what he was implying. You gulped hard, nodding quietly as the memory of Joshua fucking your ass flashed through your mind. Or the times when Jeonghan fucked you from behind, his fingers playing with your puckered hole, while shoving his cock in your pussy.

The bottle of lube emitted a soft clicking noise when you opened it. Reminding yourself to breathe, you spread the cold lube on the pads of your fingers, trying to rub them together as you leaned over towards Jeonghan. You kissed him softly at first, his hands roaming all over your body made you moan into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Your fingers trailed down, heart beating faster inside you when Jeonghan adjusted his hips for you, making it easier to find the path down his shaft. A shudder ran down your spine when you sneaked a look down his body, finding out how hard his cock was, precum leaking out of the tip and falling on his skin.

Beneath your nervousness, you found a reason to smile at him. “Have I ever told you that I think you have a cute ass?”

“I would remember something like that,” he giggled, his perfect set of teeth.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss on his teeth. “You have a cute ass, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.

“It’s funny because I don’t have any,” he mumbled, groaning quietly when your fingers make their way down the shaft of his cock, grazing his ball sack with the back of your fingers. “Joshua has a cuter ass. It’s rounder than mine.”

You laughed at his statement, uttered in a rush. “How do you know?” you retorted. The pads of your fingers pushed down on his puckered hole, gently at first, tentative.

A small grunt escaped his lips, his body tensing slightly on the couch. “It’s okay, keep going,” he put in gently, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just cold,” he smiled shyly. “Oh, I know,” he sent his gaze to the ceiling. “Shua use to let me use it as a stress ball sometimes.”

“Really?” you mumbled, outlining his features with your gaze. Enjoying the dazed look in his eyes. “What changed?” you asked, pressing kisses on his lips as you pushed your finger in, feeling his muscles relax and contract around you.

“Well, you came along. And here we are now.”

“Here we are,” you grinned, pushing the tip of your finger further in. “Hannie?”

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re good,” he showed you a smile.

That emboldened you to keep going.

“You can use two now,” he mumbled, grabbing you by your hip, clenching your skin softly.

You recalled all those times Joshua used his fingers to prep you, a wave of arousal coursing through your body when you saw Jeonghan swallow a moan, when your lubed fingers went further in a bit, spreading him open gently. You remembered how it felt like, and you felt like moaning too.

“More,” he rasped, closing his eyes, a soft sigh brushing your lips.

Your body grew tense with excitement when you saw him bite his lower lip. His hand shifted on your hip, finding your tits to knead, his thumbs brushing your nipples, swirling the pads around them, getting them hard.

“Hannie,” you mewled, shuddering against his touch. Your skin prickled, he fiddled your nipples between his pointer and middle fingers, palming your breasts with a low hum from his part.

“Use the toy now,” he instructed, giving you a slight nod with his head in reassurance.

You bristled with anticipation, sitting back on your heels to grab the toy with one hand and the bottle of lube with the other. “Should I put it on first?” you asked innocently, looking at the double ended toy that allows you to feel pleasure as well. 

“If you want to, baby,” he said.

You decided to do something before putting it on yourself. Smearing some lube on your hand, you lubed the dildo up, sneaking a look at your boyfriend as he noticed your shaking fingers.

“Relax, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m going to like it.”

Jeonghan tilted his hips for you, sucking in a breath when you used your lubed fingers to spread him open. His own hand coming in to help you as you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered hole.

Glancing up his face and down his body, you continued to push in, slowly, shallowly thrusting the toy as his mouth fell open, his eyelids fluttering as he closed them with a small sigh. You retracted the toy using more lube with your fingers to thrust another inch in, slowly.

“Fuck, baby,” he chocked out his hand snapping to grab your wrist. His eyes were blown wide with lust. “Put it on, now,” he commanded.

You nodded silently, pulling out the toy gently as he reached out to grab the remote controller from the coffee table. “Wait, Hannie, are you sure?” you asked, the toy flashing a single led light, ready to be used.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. “I need you to feel it too.”

The end that you were using was a smaller vibrator that attached itself to the dildo with a magnet, that way you did not have to use a harness and were able to feel pleasure too. Jeonghan took the vibrator from you, realizing that he also had spread lube on his fingers and pushed himself from the cushions of the couch to press the pads of his fingers against your pussy.

“Hannie!” you flinched, surprised that in seconds he had moved that fast.

“I need you right now,” he explained with a gruffy edge on his tone, his fingers rubbing lube on your messy cunt.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” you squirmed, as he sent you a look before nudging the tip of the smaller vibrator on your entrance.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, pushing in the vibrator inside you. It was bulbous but designed to lodge itself inside your walls. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded nervously, leaning your body over as he lied down again. You bit your lower lip, nudging the tip of the larger vibrator against his hole, feeling emboldened by the reassuring look he sent you.

“God, fuck,” Jeonghan gasped, his body tensing on the couch as you inserted the vibrator by pushing your hips towards his, thrusting shallowly, and clumsily. “Fuck, k-keep going, baby.”

Jeonghan took one big gulp of air, and you mimicked the action unknowingly right before you retracted your hips, a hand flying to hold onto his thigh as you met his hips with your own, penetrating him fully.

“God, princess,” he groaned languidly, jaws tightly clenching together as his face contracted in pleasure.

“You okay?” you mumbled, eyeing his finger on the remote.

“Yes, baby,” he smiled, finding your worry endearing.

“I just—fuck, Jeonghan!” you screamed at him when the vibrator inside you came to life, sending strong pulsations on your walls, on that glorious spot it was lodged in. “Warn me next time!”

“There she is,” he muttered, biting the tip of his tongue as he too relished at the feeling of the vibrations running inside him. He patted your hip with one hand. “Move, baby, I need you.”

Your other hand found his hip, as you retreated yours to meet right back in, swaying them gently, pushing the vibrator to massage him slowly at first. You moaned, feeling the toy work its miracle inside you as it was inside him.

But his face was a complete mirage, he was biting his lower lip, his half-lidded eyes on you the whole time as you thrusted your hips against him. It was hard to find a pace you could keep, you felt stiff and clumsy. But once Jeonghan’s mouth parted, giving way a series of sweet moans, you found your goal to elicit more sounds from him.

Your hands found his thigh, wordlessly motioning to lift it, pressing it against his chest. Another raunchy moan came out of his lips as you moved your hips on him faster, making him grab your ass to follow the motion of your thrusts. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned lewdly, his voice thick with arousal. “Princess, touch me, please.”

You frowned before you sent a look down his body. Your fingers circled his hard cock, pumping him at the same pace your hips were meeting his. His moans became louder, harder to control as he shut his eyes tightly. “Right there, baby,” he rasped, his eyes teary.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, hips rutting against him desperately, the vibrator pulsating inside you harder every time you hit your hips clashed with his. His face, riddled with pleasure made it impossible for you to hold it any longer.

“God, baby,” he gasped, his eyebrows drawn in. “I’m g-gonna come,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long second.

And then he started making the sweetest, rawest sounds you have ever heard in your life, his lower lip was trapped behind his teeth, moans coiling in his throat as you fucked him through his high. Ropes of cum spurted from his tip, landing on his tummy, and just kept leaking, eliciting a moan from you.  

You looked at your fist, the back of your fingers coated with Jeonghan’s cum. “Baby,” you gasped, realizing that he was still heaving. “Okay?”

Jeonghan chuckled lazily. “Princess, I swear,” he drawled. “That was amazing,” he said with a long sigh.

You giggled cutely at his face, relaxed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Let me go get something to clean you up,” you muttered, using your hand on his hip for support as you retracted your hips back.

He moaned, shuddering when you carefully pulled out the toy from him. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered, resting his head back on the cushions.

The living room was even quieter when you returned, thinking that Jeonghan might have fallen asleep as you went to the bathroom to wash your hands and to get wet hand towel. 

But no, his head turned to follow your movements with his gaze, he had been waiting for you starting at the ceiling.

You decided to straddle him, sitting on his thighs comfortably to wipe the cum from his tummy with gentle motions. “So,” you started, a smile playing on your lips. “You’ve grabbed Joshua’s ass?”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Ah, I should’ve known you wouldn’t let that go.”

“Answer my question,” you quipped.

“Yeah, I have. Why is that important?” he rumbled, sending a look to the camera that was still rolling.

You followed his gaze, finding the blinking red light of the device. “What, you don’t want this recorded?” he gave you a look. “Why? You could always cut it out,” you shrugged.

“It’s going to be a bitch to edit,” he sighed heavily. “You know what, fuck it. Yes, I used to have a crush on him.”

The shock upon hearing that was like nothing else. “Used to?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Long ago, baby,” he rolled his eyes. “Like waaaay before he met you.”

“Does Joshua know?” you asked at once, heartbeat stammering hard and fast against your chest.

“Does he…” he repeated, dumbfounded. His frown eased. “Of course he knows, baby. I told him. Besides, he already suspected it when we talked about it.”

“He did?” you gaped at him. “Well, you were either too open about it or he was exceptionally good at noticing.”

“Yeah, okay, it wasn’t just a crush,” he rolled his eyes, chuckling dryly with an awkward air surrounding him as he caressed your thighs. “I liked him quite a lot. It was embarrassing.”

“Why embarrassing?” you giggled sweetly. “Hannie, why did you never tell me this?”

“For obvious reasons,” he replied. “It happened long ago, baby. It doesn’t even matter now.”

Bewildered, you huffed. To think that Jeonghan has had feelings for you and Joshua was something that would take you a little bit of time to digest.

“So what happened?” you pried even more. “When you talked about it, how did Joshua react?”

Jeonghan pouted, humming in thought. “It’s simpler than you think, baby. I trust him, and he trusts me. I told him that I liked him, he told me nothing would happen between us. So I put a stop to what I felt, and never risked losing him as a friend again…”

Until you came along, the words were not said, but they echoed between you and him.

“You put a stop to what you felt?” you echoed confusedly.

“I did. I forgot about it eventually. If you’re thinking that I still have feelings for him, I don’t,” he chuckled dryly. “If that wasn’t obvious already…”

“It’s not obvious, Hannie,” you retorted. “I mean, you’ve had sex with him–I mean, not with him, but with me while he’s there too. That doesn’t make you think that you might still have a crush on him?”

“No,” he replied at once. “That happened long ago, and it was for a brief time, baby.”

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged, shyly looking at him. “You know? You’re in a relationship with me and him, in a way…”

“Yeah, I know how it looks. And yes, it is weird at times, but he’s still my best friend,” he brushed the back of his finger down your cheek. “I love you, and I’m happy being with you.”

You smiled, leaning to press a sweet kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Hannie.”

“So what’s next?” he asked, his tone was still languid. “What’s next on the list?”

“Do you want more, Hannie?” you asked, teasingly.

There was no list. But when you mentioned to him you wanted to try out new things, Jeonghan wasted no time and got to work.

“Not right now,” he sighed a smile. “But I wanna know what you would like to do next.”

“Mmn, we tried pegging, car sex—”

“How come you’ve had anal sex with me, but I haven’t had anal with you?” he blurted, knowing what the bold wording would do to you.

“Hannie!” you squealed, scandalized.

“It’s just a question!” he coughed out a silly giggle.

“We could try that next,” you shrugged.

“Mm, but we could do that later,” he said, stroking one of your arms languidly. “I want to do the crazy shit. Ever had sex in a pool?”

“No, Hannie,” you giggled. “I don’t think that’s sanitary.”

“Maybe just a little fondling,” he shrugged with one shoulder.  

You rolled your eyes dismissively. “Mmn,” you drew out your hum this time. “I want to do it in an open space some day,” you mumbled.

“Like in a beach, or something?” he mused.

“No–not a beach. I don’t like sand sticking to my skin,” you shuddered.

Jeonghan found that cute, and his smile made tiny dimples show on his chin. “Then where, baby? We could go camping.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered, lost in his sweet eyes. “With Josh too.”

“Of course, princess,” he conceded, wanting nothing else but to make you happy. “Now, could you stop the recording, please?” he chuckled again. “I really don’t want to cut out more footage.”

“Okay, okay,” you huffed, moving to reach out for the button to stop the recording, thinking of what Joshua’s reaction would be if he heard the conversation you just had with Jeonghan.

Joshua stood alone in the balcony of his hotel room, sitting on a dusty chair. Biting the tip of his thumb, he waited on the line for you to pick up the call.

“Hi beautiful,” he mumbled, starting to fidget with a loose thread of his sweats.

“Hi handsome!” you chirped right away.

“How are you, baby?” he sighed, heart, stammering uncontrollably in his chest.

“I’m good, I was working on my draft,” you replied, and he could tell by your tone alone that you were in a good mood.

He closed his eyes briefly. He could not do this to you.

“That sounds good,” he replied. “Hey–”

“How are you, Josh?” you asked.

“I’m fine, baby. Just tired,” he croaked.

“You sound tired,” you pointed.

“Yeah, I just got to the room. I’ve had a ton of work these past few days. And tomorrow a show, and can’t sleep right,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you try?” you asked, sighing a smile. “I know, I’m the one to talk, but you usually don’t have issues sleeping.”

“Yeah it’s just that… I want to talk to you about something,” he drew in a breath, thinking of how to go over the thing that haunted his mind.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” you waited as he gathered his thoughts, then: “Is this about the video?” you asked promptly.

“You—do you know about that?” he let go of a huge exhale. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Josh,” you replied. “I just want to know that you’re alright.”

“A-are you—what do you mean it doesn’t matter?” he frowned.

“Nobody knows it’s me, right?” you mused. “Aside from the people who know that is me in the photos, nobody knows.”

“But they’re saying awful things about you,” he mumbled, brimming with remorse.

“I haven’t seen any,” you replied, and he knew by your tone that you shrugged. “Even if I did, I don’t care, Josh,” you insisted. “The only thing I care about is you.”

“I… I am not doing okay,” the confession made a knot in his throat. “You know I didn’t want anything like this to happen.”

There was a pause. Joshua felt his own heart beating in his throat.

“Babe, we both knew this would happen. At least I was aware of that when I started dating a popular rock singer,” you giggled sweetly. “That’s why I don’t let it affect me.”

“But what about…”

“My career?” you sighed heavily. “I don’t know yet, nothing has changed so I won’t worry about it.”

Joshua lied perplexed at your nonchalance. “Okay…”

“Do you feel better now?” you asked, your tone sugary and warm. “I don’t want you to stress over things you can’t control,” you reminded him.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, bringing his other hand to cover his face. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“There is nothing to forgive here,” you replied. “I love you, I wouldn’t get mad at you for something like this.”

“I love you too, bunny,” he replied. And even though your words did alleviate part of the turbulence in his heart, there was one thing that remained, one thing he needed to talk to you about.

But he could push it down. For now.

Joshua went back inside, closing the door to the balcony and drew the blinds down. Throwing himself to the hard bed of the hotel room, he ignored the busy noise from the streets outside the window.

The lights were off, so he thought of trying to sleep. It was early, so that could give him ample time to try to fall asleep. He closed his eyes, slowing down his breathing. The buzzing noise from outside, and the normal hotel room sounds were distracting. That and the cold, firmness of the mattress.

What he would give to sleep next to you, he thought. To be wrapped by your warmth, to hear those sweets sounds you make, to feel your body pressed against his.

He sighed heavily. The screen of his phone lit up, and that was reason enough to give up trying.

The notification was from Jeonghan. It was another video. This one was longer than any of those he already had uploaded to the shared private folder.

From the thumbnail, Joshua got a sudden rush of excitement. A distraction for the night. It was as if Jeonghan knew what Joshua needed.

The video was one of the most daring that you have sent him so far. Between car sex, public sex and such, this one was where he could see just how far Jeonghan could take you. You were on top of Jeonghan, pleasuring him with a toy.

Joshua saw in your face how entranced you were in the moment, pushing the toy in and out of him, smiling softly whenever Jeonghan moaned raunchily. Then, when you inserted the other end of the toy inside you, and started moving your hips on him, Joshua could not resist himself any longer.

He begun toying with his own dick, looking at Jeonghan’s dripping with precum. His hands on your ass, guiding your thrusts inside him. You pushed one of his thighs to his chest, picking the pacing of your hips against his.

A moan bubbled in Joshua’s chest, shuddering with overwhelming pleasure as you begun stroking Jeonghan’s cock, continuing to push the toy inside him, making the man moan obscenely.

For a moment, Joshua was not sure why he felt this aroused. Was it because of how you were fucking Jeonghan? Was it because he wanted to be in Jeonghan’s place? Or was it because he wanted to be in your place?

The thoughts swam in his mind, but he knew he had been holding them for a while now. However, he ignored tried pushing them away, tucking his hand beneath his sweats and boxers, pulling out his cock to alleviate the pressure building up.

He released a sigh between his teeth, caressing his hard cock. He watched your hips moving on him, Jeonghan’s face riddled with pleasure, your hand stroking him at the same pace of your thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joshua gritted.

“God, baby… I’m g-gonna come,” Jeonghan gasped lewdly, letting out a long, raspy groan.

You were moaning with Jeonghan, both looking at each other as you came apart in the couch. The sight was so alluring, so lewd that Joshua felt like moaning with you and Jeonghan, knowing that there was no turning back from this.

He pumped himself faster, the wet sounds created by his own hand on his cock complimented the sounds from your skin slapping against Jeonghan’s, your hand on his cock, your moans, Jeonghan’s moans. Ropes of cum spurted from him at the same time Jeonghan came in the video, driving that confusion deeper inside his brain.

Panting, Joshua stared at the screen, replaying the video, trying to figure out why he felt that blow to his heart.

Was it jealousy? What was it?  

Joshua stared at the lights hanging from the ceiling. The brick walls surrounding him were adorned with provocative art, there was a drum set to his left, his guitar sitting in front of him in a stand.

The studio was owned by one of his friends. When Midnight Haze made a stop in the city, Min Yoongi was the first to call them, offering to talk about music while having some drinks. While the other guys went out to buy booze, Joshua fell behind, deciding to rest in the meantime.

He was splayed on a sofa. Cadaver style, hands clasped on his chest.

Well, he felt like dying indeed. That is how bad his anxiety got. Dangerous thoughts swam in his mind, but he blew them away with a sigh.

It had gone dark. The studio was littered with the remnants of the booze the guys had. Vernon decided to call it a night, drunkenly heading back to his hotel room. Jihoon and Yoongi were on the rooftop having a smoke.

Kim Taehyung gathered his long wavy hair with his hands, brushing it back and messily, grabbing the band he trapped with his teeth and securing his hair in half a ponytail. He had started touring with his band Green Nocturne, opening for Midnight Haze for the upcoming shows.

Searching his side, he found his phone between the cushions of the smelly couch and unlocked it, finding the folder with the series of videos of you and Jeonghan, and videos of himself.

He quickly closed the app, heart jolting nervously in his chest.

“So, what do you want to do?” he released a sigh, crossing his arms on his chest.

Joshua raised his eyebrows in question. “I thought you were showing me some lyrics?”

“Ah, yeah, pfff, right,” he replied, humming as he searched for something, patting the pockets of his jeans, and then looking around.

Joshua moved from the old couch to sit on one corner of a large table, grabbing his tablet where he wrote lyrics or notes for his music.

“Where is that fucking thing,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath. “I swear if I lost it again…”

“This is the one I was telling you about,” Joshua pushed the tablet across the table to the side where Taehyung was standing.

The man stopped his search for his phone and took one look at the screen. “Oh, is this it?” he sent a glance and then read the screen, his fingers grazing the pages where Joshua poured a little bit of his heart.

He nodded a thing that Taehyung did not see.

“Dude, why are you getting rid of these?” Taehyung frowned, his eyes meeting Joshua’s. “These are good! I can even imagine a sound to these. A Midnight Haze sound, not my sound.”

Joshua shook his head slowly. “They’re too specific.”  

“Is this because of that viral video?” Taehyung’s gaze softened with shame. “Yeah, I saw it,” he explained before Joshua could even ask. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s fucking bullshit, man.”

“It’s true.”

The man paused, eyes flickering on Joshua’s features.

“It’s true, everything they said about me,” Joshua was rigid with rage, but he tried not to let it show in his eyes. “You even saw it, man. The night of the party.”

“I saw nothing,” Taehyung shrugged with ease. “What I saw was two people having fun, loving each other. It is none of my business.”

Joshua knew that Taehyung had seen you hand in hand with Jeonghan, and he also saw you exchange a steamy moment in a secluded hallway. Joshua let out a sigh. “I appreciate that, but that’s why I can’t use these,” he pointed at the screen with the tip of his nose. “I can’t have more online theories about her.”

Taehyung let out a thinking sound. “I don’t want to take something so close to you, man,” he smiled shyly. “You shouldn’t be afraid of using them.”

That felt like a needle piercing his heart. “I can’t,” the feeling made his voice quiver, reducing it to a whisper. He had to protect you. And Jeonghan.

“Can I ask?” Taehyung sat on the corner of the table too, so now they were both facing each other.

“Sure,” he shrugged. He trusted Taehyung, and right now, he needed a friend who was closer to his career and his personal life.

“Are you guys… is she really your ex?” he asked, the tip of his tongue pushing his lower lip from the inside.

“No,” he shook his head, the question sent an inevitable shudder through him.

“Is she his girlfriend? Jeonghan’s?” he asked slowly, but the look on his face told Joshua that he was getting a broader idea of where this was going.  

“We’re in a polycule,” he explained, trying to come off as nonchalant as he could, but in reality, he still struggled to be open with something that was so precious to him. “I don’t want to make it public, so.” 

“Ah,” he mouthed, nodding his head. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Can I ask, then?” Joshua returned, cautiously sending him a knowing look.

“Ask away.”

“How did you manage it?” he rolled his eyes, searching for words. “Your relationship with Baek?”

“Well, it was easy because everyone wanted to pair me with every woman I even so glanced at,” Taehyung huffed with slight annoyance. “So the world resorted to making me a womanizer and Baekhyun was just my best friend, you know.”

Joshua nodded in silence, even if that answered his question, he still felt like there was something missing.

“But then Jimin came along, and everything started getting messy,” Taehyung added, much as if he realized that there was something unanswered lingering in the air.  “It sort of died down when I started dating Mimi. But I guess that didn’t stick either.”

Even though there was not much to correlate that situation to his own, Joshua felt some sense of semblance. Having a humane conversation with someone who understood what distress comes with this kind of life brought a soothing hug to his heart.

“Is it fun at least? Being in a poly,” Taehyung smiled slightly as he asked. 

“Fun?” Joshua uttered, as though the word were foreign to him. “Yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend and I love her. So.”

“What do you mean?” he cocked one eyebrow. “Oh, you mean you’re only with her and not Jeonghan as well?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“I assumed because of Jeonghan…” now he looked even more intrigued. “So you’re not bi as well?”

Even though the questions were heavily personal, Joshua did not feel uncomfortable. “Nope,” he frowned. “Well…”

There was a silence. Kim Taehyung waited, looking at Joshua as he gathered his thoughts with his heart strumming hard in his chest. To finally voice his thoughts about this aloud was panic-inducing for him, but for some reason, he was sure he could trust Taehyung.

“I don’t know,” Joshua let out finally, panic hugging his heart tightly. “It’s weird. Because there is no one else I’d rather share my partner with but him. I think I would have gone crazy if Bunny told me she had feelings for a different person. But when she told me about Jeonghan… I understood. Like it was meant to be.”

For a moment, it felt as though he were alone in the room, letting his deepest thoughts come out without any remorse, nor fear that he would be judged. That was the moment he knew.

“But I did feel jealousy. Part of me was certain that it was because I could not tolerate that Bunny had feelings for another man,” Joshua’s gaze swam upwards, finding the smoke-yellowed ceiling. “But I know now that my jealousy also came from the way that Jeonghan dropped everything to be with her. He was willing to lose our friendship for her, he cared about her, loved her, and… I was jealous of that.”

“But—,” Taehyung shook his head ever so slightly, much as if he were discarding a thought. “Sorry. I just need to ask, are you jealous that he’s paying attention to her… do you want that attention for yourself?”

Joshua found the strength to nod his head. “I think that it was when Jeonghan started to fall in love for her when I begun to wonder. What if…” he paused, his courage dying down for a minute. But he pushed himself: “What if I also want to receive the same love and attention that he gives her? Why do I want that?”

Taehyung showed him a wide smile. “Why don’t you try and talk to him about it? You know, go for it,” he offered his solution.

“He’s my best friend. What if it doesn’t go the way I want it to?” he shrugged in a defeated way. “I don’t want to make things even more awkward.”

The man huffed with genuine disbelief. “But you said it!” he giggled. “He is your best friend. I am pretty sure that he will understand.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Joshua insisted, his head tilting to one side.

“You never know if you never try,” his friend replied, a winning grin spreading on his lips.

“True,” Joshua conceded.

“Do you think she’ll understand?” Taehyung asked cautiously.

Joshua remembered the day you told both him and Jeonghan that you would be okay if things went that road. “Yeah. Of course. She’d have no problem with it.”

Now it was just a matter of his indecision.

“Then just try,” his friend nodded at him in encouragement.

He did not want to lose what he had with you and Jeonghan. He did not want things to take a turn for the worse.

You were sitting down on the couch, reading a book while sipping on a hot cup of tea.

The room was lit with a warm light coming from the lamp standing beside the couch, vibrant in color and soft tones of jazz coming from the flat screen. The whole apartment smelled of detergent and fabric softener, and the hum emitted by the dryer sounded far in the background.

You sighed, turning a page over, and continued reading. You had been immersed in this book for a while, every now and then you would express it on your face, pouting, eyes widening, or even gasping sometimes.

That was Joshua’s entertainment sometimes. He would sit on the armchair across from you and pretend to play some chords on his guitar, but in reality, all he did was watch you. Study the way your eyes would fly through the lines written on the pages.

But this time around, you noticed. “Are you okay, babe?” you asked, lifting your gaze from the book as you took one sip from your tea.

“Just watching you, Ms. Hong,” he mumbled with a soft smile.

“I know,” you smiled knowingly. “I noticed, Mr. Hong.”

“I’m fine, baby,” he gave you a slow blink. 

In his head, Joshua was cluttered with thoughts of the future. He wished he got the chance to meet you earlier in his life before he made the decision to give himself into his plans of being a musician.

The nagging urge to quit everything and just continue to have this quiet life with you haunted him. Sometimes the impulse overtook him, sending a rush of anxiety through his veins, much as if he needed to stand up and run away from something. He knew what it was, it was time coming to an end.

Granted, he never really felt like this was his life. He settled in with you, but this still felt like it was your apartment. It was your couch, your flatscreen. He just brought in his clothes and his guitar.

He felt like a guest in someone else’s life. Like this was life’s way to mock him. A what if in which Joshua Hong never dedicated his life to making music. This is what would have become of him. He would have been with you freely and loving you aloud.

Who knows, maybe he would have given you a ring already. Maybe he would have asked you to join him in an adventure together for the rest of your lives, far away from the spotlight.

You rose to your feet, leaving your book behind and approached him with a determination that he loved to see in you. He lifted his gaze to your eyes as you stood before him.

Carefully, you took his acoustic guitar from his grasp, placing it on the couch and turned to him. Joshua looked at you expectantly, knowing what would come next. He just opened his arms, embracing you as you sat on his lap.

“What is going on inside that head of yours?” you asked, eyeing him with curiosity as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You,” he breathed, heart beating faster in his chest.

That made you smile. “I’m here, Josh,” you giggled.

He brought a finger to your face, touching the tip of your nose affectionately. “I’m just thinking that you’re cute,” he scrunched his nose, smiling.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied, batting your eyelashes as you looked at his eyes, then his lips. “You are cute too.”

In the distance, the dryer went off with a short tune, signaling that the clothes were dry and ready to unload. The sound drove your eyes elsewhere, and you made a motion to stand up from his lap.

“No, no,” he whispered. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll just take a minute, Josh,” you said, giggling at him cutely when his arms pulled you closer to him. “Clingy,” you whispered, using your finger to touch the tip of his nose.

Joshua Hong opened his eyes, groaning with exhaustion against the hard pillows of the hotel bed. A dull pain wrapped around his heart, hurting even more with each second that passed and he slowly came to grips with reality.

He turned over, face down on the mattress, pushing his face against the pillows to feel something else other than the loneliness gripping him. He hugged himself, trying not to cry at the memory of you still clinging to his mind, seeing your face in his dreams, hearing your voice, he felt you in his dreams. It felt too real.

It was not a dream entirely, that did happen sometime before he left on tour. That day, he was thinking of quitting the band, quitting that life altogether so that he could start a life with you. The anxiety he felt for leaving you and his quiet life with you was eating him whole, just like it was now.

It was still early; he could just quit. They could find another singer, another person to fill in his shoes. Hell, maybe that person would be more fitting for Midnight Haze and would do a more decent job than him. Maybe that person will be happier in his place.

The pressure burst in his chest, like a punch in his gut, robbing him of air in an instant. Joshua pushed himself from the mattress, drawing in a big gulp of air, then another, then another.

The veins of his forearms begun to flare, arms shaking on the neat bed sheets, losing strength to prop his body up. His vision turned blurry, a loud buzzing sound blocking his eardrums, the only thing letting him know he was a live was the hard thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

He managed to turn over, gripping his chest with one hand as he tried at calming himself down, trying to slow down his own sharp intakes of breath to slower and deeper ones.

What snapped him out of it was the buzzing of his head dying down at the loud chiming of his phone. It took him some seconds to yank his gaze from the empty void in front of him and he looked at the screen of his phone. Yoon Jeonghan’s photo displaying on it.

“Joshujiiii,” Jeonghan chanted as soon as Joshua picked his call.

Joshua frowned when the sound sent a soothing feeling inside him, calming his heart at once. “He-hey, Hannie,” he croaked.

“Oh, did I just wake you up?” his best friend giggled. “Sorry about that, I can call later.”

“No, no,” he muttered quickly, trying to use the conversation to drive his attention away from his worries. “What’s up?”

“Are you coming over?” he asked, seriousness now lacing his tone.

“When? Tonight?”

“Yep. I know you didn’t say it as a joke,” he said, and by the way he pronounced each syllable, Joshua knew his friend was munching on something.

“I wasn’t being serious when I said it,” Joshua explained with sigh. “Bu-but there is a possibility,” he admitted.

“I knew it,” Jeonghan muttered with some kind of victory. “So? Are you taking a flight here? Then we could go back to where your big show is, all of us.”

“Yeah,” Joshua muttered weakly, bringing a hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” he imagined his friend raising his eyebrows. “Well, I could find a plane ticket for you without Princess finding out. We could make it into a surprise for her.”

A smile crept on his face hearing Jeonghan bringing you up like this. His best friend, his partner in crime who loved you so much it warmed Joshua’s own heart. “Send me prices and everything. I’ll send you my details.”

“Sure,” he chirped. “You know, she will love seeing you. She misses you so bad even I’m starting to miss you too.”

Joshua was no idiot. He knew the reason behind that choice of words. You were worried about him, and even though you would not ask Jeonghan to intervene, this was his way of telling Joshua what was going on in your mind.

“Jeonghan,” he paused. “I’m fine.”

“No, you don’t sound fine,” Jeonghan huffed. “I can hear the snot in your voice. You’ve been crying.”

“Agh, really, Jeonghan. Sometimes I wish you weren’t so fucking tactless,” he groaned, rubbing two pads of his fingers on his brow.

“I’m just telling it how it is,” he imagined his friend shrugging with ease. “I wish you weren’t so fucking emotionally constipated.”

“Yeah, well not everyone can get what they wish,” he muttered with a sharp jab piercing his gut.

“Now you’re being emo, again,” Jeonghan retorted with a low chuckle that died a second before his tone went back to serious. “Seriously, Shuji, is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joshua quickly said. “We can talk later.”

“Mmn, okay. I’ll send you the info about the ticket in a bit.”

“I’ll send you my details,” Joshua paused. “Hannie?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Joshuji,” he replied, seemingly knowing about Joshua’s situation without even being there, just by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you later, okay?”  

You stretched your arms over your head, releasing a long groan as your muscles complained with you after sitting down on your chair for four hours without breaks. Content with your progress, even though it was little, you pushed yourself away from the desk and rose to your feet.

The mug had been left empty, aside from the bag of tea in it. You grabbed it as you made your way out of the office and went to the kitchen. You strode on the floor with your fuzzy socks on, feeling a sense of accomplishment at seeing your recently cleaned apartment.

Jeonghan would get out from work in a couple of hours and come to see you. That was the little routine you both had. You worked the same amount of hours that he did, and when he came home, you would stop typing and spend time with him.

You smiled to yourself. The day you would go visit Joshua drew nearer too, and it made you excited that you were going with Jeonghan too. It felt nice to have a stronger relationship with both of them, and it was also nice to see that they were closer.

As the electric kettle made a bubbly noise boiling the water, you tapped your fingers on the counter. Should I bring dinner for us tonight? Jeonghan’s incoming message snapped you out of your train of thought.

Just come straight here. I want to see your face. Read your message, not caring that you were acting clingy already. Even though you saw each other nearly everyday, you missed him when he was not around.

Alright. I’m on my way, then.

Your tummy twisted in excitement. Already? I thought you were clocking off in two hours. You replied instantly.

The kettle went off with a soft click, exuding a thin column of vapor as you poured the boiling water into one of your favorite mugs. When you finished preparing your tea how you liked it, you turned to your screen, finding no reply from your boyfriend.

Maybe he is just messing with you. Yoon Jeonghan liked to do that.

But then, the smart-lock of the front door beeped, the handle turning, and you knew he was not messing with you. “Babe?” you called as you made your way to the entrance of your apartment.

“Yeah?”

You stopped cold at the sight you found. Joshua closed the door behind him, a sweet smile painting his lips as he took a step towards you. You watched him with your mouth hanging open, heartbeat racing frantically in surprise.

“Hi beautiful,” Joshua muttered, his gaze swimming on the features of your face, noticing that you were in a mild shock. “I’m here, baby.”

“You’re here,” you parroted shakily, eyes brimming with big hot tears. “Oh god. You’re here...”

His strong arms wrapped around you in a hug, quickly sweeping you off your feet. And you clung to his neck, holding onto him as though he were a dream and would go away at any given second.

“Surprise,” he muttered with a tiny voice, and that was when you noticed the slight quiver, the quiet sniffling when he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much,” you muttered, bringing a hand to feel the back of his head, using your arms still around him to hug him tightly.

“I missed you too,” he muttered, his words muffled by your hair and your clothes, but you noticed even so, that his voice had thickened.  

“How are you here? I thought…” you trailed off. Jeonghan.

“I had a little help,” he replied, putting you back to the floor. “We wanted to give you a surprise.”

As you parted, you gaze fell on his features, marked by the weight of his tiredness. The color of his skin faded. The bags under his eyes were visible and darker like never before. But on top of that, the very air about him felt worn out, and on the brink of falling asleep at any given moment.

“Baby…” you whispered, your focus falling on his face, which you cupped with the palms of your hands. “Don’t you want to have a nap? You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he frowned, his eyes shifting from your face to the rest of your body. “I just want to be with you. Jeonghan will be here soon too. We could go get dinner together or have something delivered.”

You knew Joshua well enough to know that he was trying to avoid something, and given the situation with the recent rumours surrounding you. Thinking that it was all too likely, you gave him a smile, grabbing his hand. “Come.”

He sighed but went with you either way. “Baby, I’m fine,” he insisted, and you knew by his tone alone that he was smiling. “I don’t need to sleep.”

“We’re not sleeping,” you turned so that he could see you grinning meaningfully at him.

Joshua giggled. “Ah, okay, okay,” he said, using his hand in yours to pull you closer to his body. “Come here, baby.”

You lead him to the bathroom, where you promptly started a shower, turning to him. “Let me take care of you, okay?” you asked sultrily, batting your eyelashes at him.

Joshua knew that there was more to your intentions with just one look. But his brain was so burned out that he could not figure out what you were planning, so he just nodded with his head, mouthing okay.

“You must be so exhausted, baby,” you sighed, toying with the buttons of his plaid shirt as you undid each one.

In no time, you were sliding the cotton fabric off his shoulders, moving to tug the belt of his black denims free. “I am,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long pause. “So tired.”

“I’m going to take this off, okay?” you asked when he blindly stepped out of his jeans, feeling your fingers curling around the band of the waist band of his boxers.

“Okay,” he replied mechanically, reaching out to hold onto whatever part of your body he could find.

His hands found the curve of your waist, over the long t-shirt you wore. Thinking that he should reciprocate, his fists grabbed the t-shirt, hiking it up your torso and removing it with one motion.

Seeing you naked for the first time in what felt like ages was surreal to him. Even though he spent most of his nights looking at videos of you, to see you in real life was different. The camera could not capture your beautiful skin, or the beauty marks he loved so much.

“Let’s get you in,” you whispered, noticing the aloof look in his eyes.

“Are you going to shower with me?” he asked dumbly, letting you push him into the shower.

“Of course, silly goose,” you smiled at him sweetly, removing your panties before stepping with him. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

His heart swelled with so much love he was sure it would burst soon. “Yeah, you did,” he replied with a dazed smile, leaning his head to get his hair soaked with the warm stream of water.

“Good boy,” you whispered, grabbing the bottle of shampoo, sinking your fingers in his dark hair to wash it with slow motions.

He closed his eyes, deciding to give himself to you wholly. He was safe now, he was with you.

“I love you,” he shuddered. “I love you so much.”

His hands found your waist again, grabbing you as if to support himself.

“I love you too, baby,” you replied.

He opened his eyes again, afraid this would be another nightmare tormenting him with glimpses of you.

You saw something flash his dark eyes for a second before he eased back into the water when you rinsed his hair. Your hands were on him now, rubbing soap everywhere with ginger touches here and there.

“Hey,” you hummed. You were washing his torso, moving closer to him, his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, pressing your front to him, making you feel the firmness of his growing erection.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he let out a shy giggle, lowering his gaze to yours.

“I can,” you mumbled, sneaking a soapy hand between your bodies.

Joshua supressed a shudder when your fingers circled his hard shaft, stroking it idly as you watched him subdue himself to you. “Baby,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “God, I missed you so much,” he sighed raggedly.

“I missed you too, Josh,” you whispered, pumping him faster, adding more pressure to your grip on his shaft.

He pressed his face on yours, reaching your lips with his own with a tiny groan. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” he confessed with a sheepish look.

“It’s okay, baby. This is about you,” you hummed softly. “Let go for me, can you do that?”

He nodded with his head, clutching your waist tighter.

“Good boy,” you breathed. “Focus on me, baby. Do you like what I’m doing with my hands?” you pumped him faster, your fingers cupping his balls, massaging them.

“Yeah,” he shuddered hard against you, closing his eyes to savor the pleasure brimming inside him. “Please…”

“Let go,” you muttered. “Come for me, Josh.”

A strangled noise came out of his parted lips. Joshua stopped gripping you, his hand snapping to find the wall behind you, anchoring himself before he followed your command. The last thing he did to help himself reach his high was meeting your lips with a long, sloppy kiss, wet in drool and the water showering over you.

He groaned in your mouth as he came in your hand. You stopped pumping him once he finished spilling himself on your skin. “That’s it, that’s it, baby,” you whispered in praise. “How does that feel?”

“So good,” he blurted, sighing a euphoric feeling. “You don’t know how many times I wished to have your hand instead of mine,” he mumbled out the words swiftly. “I missed you so much, I need you with me.”

“I’m here, baby. I missed you too,” you said. “Let’s finish washing, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “And then it’s your turn.”

You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

You finished washing up thoroughly, and then as soon as you finished drying your skin Joshua pulled you in a hug, sweeping you off your feet and a second later, your body hit the mattress.

Joshua climbed on top of you, but before he could even lower his body on yours, you pushed him off, easily turning him over, his back pressed against the covers. On a usual night, that would have been impossible to achieve. But given that he was tired, he did not expect you to do that.

You straddled his waist while kissing him, his hands roamed all over your back, squeezing your skin, he hugged you as you pressed your chest against his.

The accumulated tiredness from the nights when Joshua could not sleep had started to reach a breaking point for him. You could feel it in his kisses, languid and messy. He groaned when you tried to break from him, urging you to keep going.

“Stubborn,” you whispered with a tiny smile, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead with your hand.

“You’re the stubborn one,” he replied with a gruff tone. “I’m fine.”

“Sleep, baby,” you paused, looking at his beautiful eyes. “We can do this in the morning.”

Joshua thought that your words might have magic in them because his will caved in a second. The heaviness in his limbs pushed him to nod his head in agreement. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “But only if you stay here with me.”

“Of course, baby,” you giggled. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

You got under the covers, naked and hair still damp but you did not care at all. Once you were next to him, you intertwined your legs with his, lying your head on his chest as he hugged your body.

“Baby?” he blinked lazily.

“Yes, Josh?” you lifted your head to look at him.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily.

“I won’t,” you reassured him, caressing his cheek with gentle strokes. “I promise.”

He blinked one final time, and like a switch that went off, you saw the muscles of his face relax, falling asleep peacefully in your bed with you.

Some hours later, you moved from his embrace, lying in a normal position but still close to Joshua. You wanted to let him have a nice restoring sleep, so you thought of moving away from him a bit.

But his hands found you beneath the covers, tugging you closer, or hugging you back to him in his sleep. He was so deeply asleep that he did not hear the soft beeping of the smart lock, the door pushed open and then it closed with care.

Jeonghan’s steps were careful, probably intuiting that you were in the bedroom asleep. You saw his head peak in the doorframe of the bedroom, making you lift your hand to wave at him.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, approaching the foot of the bed. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you patted your hand next to you, on the space that was left free.

“Okay,” he whispered, moving to the side.

Jeonghan paused before he went under the covers with you, finding you and Joshua utterly naked. “Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, suppressing a smile. “Couldn’t you wait for me?” he muttered teasingly.

“Shut up,” you reproached with a hushed tone. “Josh was tired, so he fell asleep before we could do anything,” you explained.

“I’m just playing, baby,” he smiled, his gaze finding Joshua. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you frowned, still caged by his heavy arms. “He was so tired. Couldn’t even speak straight.”

“So, what? Are we having a slumber party?” he grinned.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if he’ll wake up right now.”

“We could order food if he does.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Okaaay,” he sighed, pulling out his phone and lowering the brightness of his screen before he dived in the food delivery app.

The dimmed white light coming from the screen illuminated his features, letting you see his perfectly cute nose, his beauty mark that sat on his cheek, his rosy lips, the lower tucked inside his mouth.

“What?” he noticed, directing a quick look at you.

“I’m just looking at your face,” you whispered.

“Is there something on it?” he asked, running his palm over his cheeks.

“No, you dummy,” you said. “I just missed your face.”

“You saw me this morning, princess,” he giggled goofily.

“You were supposed to say I missed your face too, princess,” you mimicked his tone to the best of your ability but failed miserably.

“But I didn’t miss you,” he said, trying to sound serious. “I just saw you this morning.”

“I take it back, I didn’t miss your face,” you pushed him away with a hand.

“Come here, you little crybaby,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand.

“You-mmf,” you were quickly shut up by his lips, sealed by his in a chaste kiss.

“What?” he dared, planting another kiss, then another.

“You fucking tease,” you muttered, pushing his face away from yours.

His mouth fell open in surprise. “Me?” he pointed a finger to his chest.

“Who else?” you hissed. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t even know,” he grinned darkly at you. “Now, why don’t you stay quiet for a minute? You’re going to wake him up,” he nodded at the man deeply asleep behind you.

You turned on the bed, lying on your back. Joshua’s arm hugged you just below your breasts, pulling you closer by instinct when you moved.

“So now you’re going to ignore me?” Jeonghan huffed a puffy air, clicking his tongue.

You stared at the ceiling, dead set on keeping your act up.

But you should have done better than playing with The Yoon Jeonghan.

At first, he just smirked, but as the seconds went by and you pretended to ignore him, the smile wore off. He propped his elbow on the pillow, leaning his head on his fist, intent on watching your face.

Then, he slid a hand on your tummy, he did nothing else with it, he just parked it there, his palm covering your belly button. You rejected his touch, but he caught sight of your eyelids fluttering slightly.

“Don’t ignore me,” he drew out the words with a low hum. He lifted his palm, but his fingers lingered on your skin, dragging the tips on your tummy in slow, gentle motions.

You said nothing, but as his fingers trailed on your lower abdomen, you swallowed hard. Jeonghan smiled, loving how well you responded to his touch. Your warm skin prickled, tingling at the wake of his fingertips drawing circles, going lower and lower.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he pouted. “Did you get angry because I called you a crybaby?”

The tone he used was mocking you, but you could not pay attention to it. His fingers were so close to your mound that you felt the need to swallow back a moan, the strangled sound coiling in your throat drew his attention.

“What was that, baby?” he asked playfully.

Yanking your gaze from the ceiling, you met his, darkened by lust and mischief. The smirk that drew on his face was of silent victory.

“What, do you like this?” he motioned to his hand drawing lazy circles on your mound, his fingers grazing the line of your pussy lips. “Does this get you horny?

You blinked at him, parting your lips in desire but no words came out.

“I bet you’re wet already,” he whispered, a glint lighting up his dark eyes.

You moved your thighs ever so slightly, letting one finger between your pussy lips.

“God, baby, right next to Joshua?” he whispered, a devilish smirk curving his lips. “What is your boyfriend going to say if he wakes up?”

You said absolutely nothing, your eyelids fluttered when he ran the tip of his finger between your folds.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as though he knew already that he would find your pussy sopping wet already. “Who would’ve thought that you’re such a slut?”

You gasped silently, drawing your eyebrows in. Jeonghan’s finger dipped in your core, his own mouth falling open when he sank one finger in, then another, playing with your wetness.

“Hear that?” he asked with a whisper, moving his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, creating a loud wet noise with each thrust.

In the past weeks, you had been having so much sex that your body was extra sensitive.

“Princess, you’re insatiable,” Jeonghan smiled, throwing a look at Joshua, who was still asleep. “Do you want more?”

Your gaze followed his, finding Joshua peacefully unaware that you were getting fingered by Jeonghan. You nodded.

“More?” Jeonghan confirmed. “More fingers?”

You shook your head silently.

“Mmn, princess, you’re going to wake Joshua up if I give you more,” he cooed softly, moving his fingers inside you, massaging your walls. He pulled them out, driving the pads of his fingers to your clit, which was already swollen with arousal.

You flinched slightly under Joshua’s embrace when Jeonghan’s fingertips started moving on your clit. You locked your gaze on Jeonghan, silently pleading for more.

Jeonghan took the challenge, stopping the motion of his fingers on you and sank under the covers, carefully placing himself between your legs without disrupting Joshua’s sleep. You closed your eyes, feeling his hands on your inner thighs, spreading your pussy lips for his mouth.

The first lick set your body ablaze. You tensed up, gritting your teeth as Jeonghan ran his tongue flatly on your folds, licking your juices up, kissing your clit slowly.

As soon as your back stirred on the mattress, Joshua moved. He hummed softly, making your tummy twist, a hand flying to find Jeonghan’s head, but the man did not take the hint, or if he did, he did not give a fuck.

Jeonghan continued giving your pussy broad strokes with his tongue, not caring of the wet sounds he was making.

“Mmn,” Joshua pressed his face on your pillow finding your cheek, which he kissed softly.

“Josh,” you mumbled, the sound whiny, making it obvious that you were aroused.

Jeonghan pushed his hands on your inner thighs, spreading you more to dip his tongue inside you with a low groan.

“What’s ha–,” Joshua lifted his head from your pillow, spotting the bulge beneath the covers, between your legs.

“Baby,” you sighed a moan.

Joshua watched the body beneath the covers for a few seconds, confusedly finding your face. The last traces of slumber left him, coming alive with a slow smirk drawing on his face. He pushed the covers off, uncovering your body, and Jeonghan between your legs, eating you out. “Couldn’t you wait for me?”

You let out a lazy giggle, finding it amusing that Jeonghan had said the same thing half an hour before. “Wanna join?” you asked with a sweet hum, raking your fingertips through Jeonghan’s scalp.

Joshua propped his body on one elbow, lying back to watch Jeonghan working on your pussy. “How do you want me to join in?” he asked, his voice still gruff and lazy.

“Kiss me?” you asked with a sweet tone.

The man obeyed without a second thought, bringing a hand to cup your face, kissing you gently. Jeonghan grabbed your legs, hiking them on his shoulders, dipping two fingers back into your pussy, and kissing your clit with his mouth.

You moaned in Joshua’s mouth, his hands cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and tugging your nipples.

“You’re close, baby?” Joshua asked, enjoying the sound so much he felt himself growing hard.  

“I want more,” you gasped.

Joshua smirked, dipping his head over your chest, trapping one of your nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

“God!” you squealed, hands busy grabbing both Jeonghan and Joshua’s hair. Your thighs tensed more in pleasure, drawing out a long moan as one of your boyfriends licked and kissed your nipples, and the other your clit.

“I’m coming,” you sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. “God, god, god, I’m close, I’m close!” you let out a strangled sound, jaw going slack as you climaxed below Jeonghan and Joshua, neither slowing down nor stopping.

You thrashed, moaned, and cried out each of their names lewdly until you were breathless, teary-eyed, and limp on the mattress.

“God… that was…” you sighed, smiling as you relished in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

They both lifted their heads from your body at the same time. Jeonghan ran the back of his hand over his chin, wiping away your arousal and his own spit, while Joshua acted on impulse, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and sticking his fingers in his mouth to lick the taste of you.

Jeonghan looked startled for a second, his eyes widening and lips parting. But he shook it off quickly, letting Joshua lick off your wetness. The sight was so arousing, that a moan coiled in your throat.

“Princess likes that, huh?” Jeonghan asked Joshua, pulling out his fingers from the warmth of his mouth.

“Did you like that, baby?” Joshua asked, his studded eyebrow twitching up.

“Yeah,” you sighed, smiling shyly when the sound came out more like a moan than anything else.

Jeonghan had a question etched in his eyes that only Joshua could see. But he ignored it, trying to get a hold of himself before he did more impulsive things.

“What do you want, princess?” Jeonghan asked, noticing the dazed expression on your face.

“I want you both. At the same time. You on top,” you pointed at Jeonghan, then to Joshua. “And you below me.”

“Tsk,” Jeonghan smirked, nodding his head in amazement.

But he climbed off the bed as he took his clothes off, opening the first drawer of your closet. As Jeonghan got what he needed from the drawer, he thought of the brief exchange he had with Joshua, deciding to push it far away in his mind for now. But he could not ignore, that he had liked it.

You rose to your knees, circling Joshua’s neck with your hands to bring him to your face, pressing a warm kiss in his mouth. “I liked that,” you whispered, referring to Joshua licking Jeonghan’s fingers.

“I know,” he husked with a half-smile. “I can tell.”

Jeonghan returned with a bottle of lube, and one condom, patting the edge of the bed he motioned you over. “I want you here, Princess,” he told you.

You crawled over to him, sitting back on your heels in front of him.

Jeonghan cupped the side of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, and pressing a small kiss on your lower lip. “Be good for us,” he whispered.

“Always, Hannie,” you smiled.

“Mmn,” he hummed, keeping his quippy retort behind his grin. “Turn around and get on all fours, baby.”

You obeyed at once, getting on your hands and knees, ass to him. Jeonghan started littering your skin with kisses, his hands caressing your ass. Joshua watched quietly, one corner of his lips twitching when Jeonghan sneaked another glance his way.

“Come here, handsome,” you muttered lovingly, extending a hand to clutch his hip. Joshua was hard again, tip leaking with precum.

Joshua mimicked Jeonghan’s previous movements, cupping your face in his large hand. “Want to take me in your mouth, baby?” he taunted, reading your face.  

“Yeah?” you lifted your pretty eyes to his face.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, swallowing hard when you obediently parted your lips for him.

A moan vibrated around his cock, Jeonghan kissed your pussy one more time, making your whole body jolt in surprise. “Easy, baby,” he giggled.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, running the tip of his tongue between your folds, licking up your pussy to the rim of your ass, kissing, humming against your skin.

The room grew quiet in a matter of seconds.

Joshua’s head hung back slightly, sighing out in pleasure as you sucked him off eagerly. Your tongue swirled on his cockhead, hollowing out your cheeks every time you pulled back on him. He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Jeonghan instinctively.

Joshua’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest to find Jeonghan’s eyes on him as he licked your puckered hole, a hand stroking his hard cock idly.

“God,” Joshua exhaled, closing his eyes again. You moaned around him, his hand gripping your hair right before he pulled out his cock out of your mouth with a loud groan.

He threw back his head, eyes focused on the ceiling, panting.

“Josh?” you called.

“Give me a second,” Joshua laughed languidly.

Jeonghan masked his giggle with a low hum, pulling back his mouth from your puckered hole to press the tip of his pointer finger, making you moan. “Joshuji is just out of his game, baby,” he cooed.

“Shut up,” Joshua groaned, chest heaving. “I’m not.”

“Alright, then what is it?” Jeonghan challenged. There was no smile curling his lips, Joshua found in Jeonghan’s eyes pure curiosity.

Joshua bore into him with his dark gaze. “Not now,” he warned with a cold tone.

“There is nothing wrong with admitting that you’re a quick nut,” Jeonghan stated boldly, knowing that his crude vocabulary would rattle him. “Baby will understand, right?”

“Jeonghan, why don’t you occupy your mouth again and shut the fuck up?”

“Did I hurt your feelings, altar boy?” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, pushing another finger inside you.

“Both of you,” you groaned, torn between the fight happening and Jeonghan’s fingers in your ass. “Shut up,” you deadpanned.

“Are you ready, baby?” Jeonghan asked, spreading his fingers inside you.

“Yeah, I think I am,” you choked out.

“Get on top of Shuji, baby,” Jeonghan patted your ass lovingly.

Joshua got to the center of the bed, laying back as you crawled back to him, straddling him. He grabbed your head with his large hands, pulling you into a long, wet kiss.

You placed your forearms on the pillows, framing his head.

Jeonghan grabbed your hips roughly, lifting one hand, and bringing it down on your ass firmly. You yelped, breaking your kiss with Joshua abruptly.

Joshua smiled at you. “Someone’s jealous,” he teased, grabbing your chin with two fingers to continue kissing you.

“Tsk, jealous,” Jeonghan huffed. “Ready?”

You turned to see him, giving him a short nod.

Jeonghan rolled up the condom down his shaft, spreading the lube in both him and your hole. “You know what to do, princess.”

“Yes, Hannie,” you replied, arching your back to him.

“Good girl,” he sighed, pressing the tip of his cock in your hole, pushing one inch inside you.

“God,” you gasped, hiding your face in the crook of Joshua’s neck.

Joshua caressed your back, his fingers drawing a line down your column before he grabbed your ass, spreading you open for Jeonghan. “You’re good, baby,” he whispered, looking at Jeonghan as he sank another inch in.

Your fingers curled on the pillowcases. “Josh…” you cried out, Jeonghan’s cock filling you up a little bit more.

Jeonghan blinked lazily, biting his lip hard as he pulled back, to sink back inside you, pushing a few more inches in.

“Take it, baby,” Joshua husked, his fingers pressing the skin of your ass, still helping spread you open.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, nearly bottoming out inside you. “I’m gonna start moving,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yes, please,” you cried out, the sound muffled on Joshua’s neck.

Joshua shuddered, your breath fanning on his skin. “Can you take me, baby?” he asked.

“Mm-mmph,” you moved your head, to meet his lips with yours. “Please, Josh.”

“Hurry,” Jeonghan groaned, giving you shallow thrusts.

Joshua thought of saying something quippy.

But you sent him a look. “Don’t,” you huffed. You grabbed his cock, guiding it to your pussy.

“Okay,” Joshua whispered, suppressing a smile. He started thrusting in his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.

Jeonghan moaned, leaning his body forward, pushing you over too. “Fuck, god, fuuuuck,” he groaned, leaning his forehead on your nape. “Baby, you feel so good.”

The lewd sound of Jeonghan’s voice elicited a moan from Joshua. Pushing his cock faster inside you, he could feel Jeonghan’s cock inside you, moving in perfect synchronicity with his own.

Jeonghan was fully fucking you doggy style, leaning over your body as Joshua fucked into you. He pressed a hand on the pillow, the other gripping your hip, brushing against Joshua’s fingers.

“Baby,” Joshua called your name, noticing your features lost in pleasure. “You’re there?”

“Yeah,” you replied aloofly. “I’m close, babe. I’m so close…”

“Come for me,” Jeonghan choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, not yet,” Joshua gasped, fucking into you faster. Sweat sticking to his skin, making a wet sound every time he met his hips with yours. “Wait for me, baby.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, your limbs starting to shake. “I’m there, Josh. Please… let me come.”

Jeonghan let out a ragged groan. “Come, baby, please come,” he begged, swallowing hard, pushing inside you desperately now.

Just by the sounds alone, Joshua knew his best friend was near his release. He watched as Jeonghan nipped and kissed your shoulder, eyes closed as if though he feared opening them, as though he knew Joshua would be looking.

You cried out a whiny moan. “Joshua, Joshua…” you sighed, writhing as your orgasm washed over you, teary-eyed and completely fucked out.

“Fuck, princess,” Jeonghan gasped, his thrusts slowing down as you squeezed on both men inside you.

Joshua gripped your hips tighter as he moved his lazily. “God,” he blurted as he saw you and Jeonghan come together just like in all of those videos. You squeezed around him, and he could feel Jeonghan’s cock nudged inside you, pressing against his.

You fell on top of him, walls throbbing around his cock as he spilled inside you with a blissful sigh.

Then Jeonghan fell on top of you, pulling out of you and resting his head on the pillow, beside Joshua’s head.

Joshua groaned under the weight of both your body and now Jeonghan’s. But you giggled sweetly, resting your head on the other pillow, to the other side of Jeonghan.

Joshua stared at the ceiling again, breathing hard and erratically from the exhaustion and pleasure still coursing through him. But he dared to move his face, turning it to Jeonghan to see if his best friend was awake.  

With just one look, Joshua knew that Jeonghan had a million questions to ask. His eyes bore into Joshua’s, his face so close they could feel each other’s breaths.

Joshua wondered for a second if Jeonghan’s lips were as soft as yours. A thought that almost sent him into a frenzy.

“What?” Jeonghan breathed, noticing the change in Joshua’s eyes.

“Get off me,” Joshua gritted.

“Ask nicely.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Joshua demanded, but a giggle sneaked through his command.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan groaned, pushing himself off you and Joshua.

You, on the other hand, were still lost in the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm. Breathing softly on the curve of Joshua’s neck.

“We should clean up,” you said, promptly lifting your hips off his.

“Wait–,” Joshua gasped, but it was too late. Cum dripped out of you, spilling all over Joshua, and your inner thighs.

You stared at the mess for a long second.

“Tsk,” Jeonghan returned to the bedroom. “Someone has to clean that up now,” he said, lying down on the bed, next to Joshua.

Before Joshua could even say anything, you understood what Jeonghan meant immediately, leaning down to his crotch, running your tongue on his lower abdomen.

“Fuck,” Joshua gritted when you licked his cum from his skin, the act so hot he felt himself grow hard again. “Fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down.

“Lie down, princess, Jeonghan commanded when you finished cleaning up Joshua’s lower tummy.

You lied back on the bed as he got to his knees, sending a look at Joshua as Jeonghan licked the cum from your inner thighs, eliciting a lazy moan from you.

Joshua felt even more confused than before but kept watching the whole exchange, unable to yank his gaze from it.

You smiled at Jeonghan, right before he dived for a kiss, his tongue rolling inside your mouth with a raspy groan. You cupped his head moaning lewdly in his mouth.

“Come on, let’s wash up, baby,” Jeonghan whispered, patting your thigh once before pulling away from you, but not before glancing Joshua’s way.

You crawled up to him, a playful smile on your face. “You there?” you cooed. “Let’s go,” you whispered.

Snapping from a trance, he grabbed your face, placing a rushed kiss in your lips, tasting his cum in the process. “That was so hot,” he hissed.

“Did you like that, babe?” you asked sultrily, reading his face.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

You smiled mischievously, grabbing his hand. “Come on, baby boy, let’s wash again.”

And with that, Joshua knew there was no right or wrong answer to the turbulent confusion inside him, he had to roll with it.

The following morning, Joshua stretched out his arm beneath the bedsheets, humming blissfully once he found your body to wrap in an embrace.

“Morning, babe,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes to see your face, planting a sleepy kiss on your lips. “G’morning,” he whispered.

Jeonghan looked at both of you, his phone in his hands. “Don’t I get a morning kiss?”

The question made Joshua’s heart jolt nervously. But understanding that the question was directed at you, he rolled his eyes.

However, you smiled, moving to place a sweet kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Good morning, Hannie,” you mumbled.

“Morning,” he replied with a flat tone.

“You’re a bit grumpy since last night,” you pointed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head slightly. “I should go now. Got to go to the bar to drop some payments and–,” he paused. “Is your thing with Yena still up for tonight?”

Joshua arched one eyebrow.

“Yeah, but Josh will drive me there. Don’t worry,” you looked at him.

“I’ll drive you,” he nodded dumbly. “Where?”

“I have a date with Yena. We’re grabbing dinner, we’ll talk about my anonymity and see what we could do market wise,” you explained, pinching his chin with your fingers.

“Okay,” Joshua reassured. “I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan sighed, leaning over to place a loving kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he mumbled right before kissing your lips sweetly.

Joshua’s heart gave another leap. The smile that painted your face was so sweet, he had only seen it on you whenever you were with him.

“I love you, grumpy,” you replied teasingly.

“Shut up,” he sighed a smile, kissing you one more time before he pulled back. “Bye, Joshuji,” he waved, much as if he could not walk out without saying goodbye to him.

“Bye, Jeonghannie.”

Joshua sat on the pilot’s seat of his van, waiting. One hand supporting his head, the other gripping the steering wheel tightly.

He wished he could say that he eased part of the questions that made his head uneasy. But in truth, he felt even more confused. The easy way out of this, was to just let whatever he felt flow.

But then, he needed to talk it out with you. And Jeonghan.

Frustrated, he sighed. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned home. He so desperately wanted to go back to the quiet life, that he forgot that time also moved for you, and things changed.

Your life was also becoming less quiet.

Was this his doing?

You opened the door to the copilot’s seat of his van. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled.

“Ready?” he turned the key, igniting the engine.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you repeated.

“It’s okay, baby,” he replied dryly. “Bringing everything this time?”

“Yeah, I triple-checked,” you looked down to your lap, shamefully. “I keep forgetting my phone everywhere.”

“Did you book a table?” Joshua asked, eyeing you as he drove through the city.

“Yeah, but Yen’s already waiting for me.”

“Mm,” Joshua nodded.

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you mad at me, Josh?” you asked, and without skipping a second, you added: “I’m sorry, I–,”

“I’m not mad,” he said flatly.

A long silence was drawn between you, tension building as the seconds passed.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong then,” you said with a serious tone, trying to look at his face, but he just kept avoiding your eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.

“Don’t do that,” you snapped. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” he finally looked at you, but the glance was short.

“You’re avoiding something,” you pointed. “I know you, Josh. There is something bothering you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, pulling up. He raised his eyebrows. “We’re here.”

It took you a second to understand that he had parked the car in front of the restaurant you were going to meet with Yena. You searched his dark eyes, heart dropping to your stomach when you saw how dead they looked.

“I’m thinking of quitting the band,” Joshua mumbled, the weight of his confession making him drive his gaze elsewhere.

“You’re not serious,” you whispered.

“I am,” he looked at you again. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

You leaned your head to one side, eyes glinting with pity. “Baby, you’re just tired. Don’t say things like these, think it over when you’re well rested.”

“I don’t need to think things over,” he spat, shaking his head in frustration. “I want out. I don’t want any of this.”

As soon as he blurted the words, Joshua wanted to take them back. He looked at you remorsefully, opening his mouth to apologize but you stopped him, raising a palm to him.

“I’m going to ignore this moment happened… and when I come back, you and I are going to talk about this. So think carefully about how you speak to me next time.”

Then you exited the car, slamming the door behind you.

Joshua stood in front of the walled rooftop.

This used to be the place where you would come to ponder about whatever occupied your mind the most. The night Joshua followed you here, he found you in the same spot he was standing in; but you were leaning your head on the brim of the ledge, following the buzz of the busy city as some kind of a lullaby.

Some nights, Joshua would wake up to find your spot of the bed empty, and he know he would find you here, trying to solve whatever plot point you were stuck in. But some nights he would also find you here when you were running away from conflict, running away from him.

He brought a hand to rub his chest absentmindedly, trying to ease the heaviness coiling around his heart.

The sound coming from the rusty hinges of the door leading back into the building rattled him, making him turn around, somehow expecting to see you.

Jeonghan closed the door behind him, crossing his arms as he walked tentatively towards Joshua. “How long have you been here?” he asked. 

Joshua shook his head in reprehension. “If you’re here to play the mediator, just telling you now, I don’t want to hear it,” he turned over again, facing the city lights again. “I know I did wrong.”

“I’m not here to play mediator,” Jeonghan said quietly once he reached Joshua’s side, leaning his forearms on the brim of the ledge. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re not picking up the phone.”

“Did you… talk to Bunny?” Joshua asked, avoiding his best friend’s scrutiny. But it was quite unavoidable, he could feel his eyes piercing him.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, finally yanking his gaze away from him and directing it towards the sunset.

Joshua expected him to say something else, something about the conversation between Jeonghan and you. But when he stayed quiet about it, Joshua felt even worse. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes harshly to avoid succumbing to pure madness.

“I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her when she gets back,” he mumbled, his voice muffling in his hands. He lifted his head blinking the quiet rage stinging his eyes and sent a shameful look to his best friend.

“She’s already here,” Jeonghan informed with a solemn expression. “She called me.”

Joshua could not stop himself from feeling resentful that you had called Jeonghan to pick you up instead of him. But even he would admit that it was deserved.

The serenity he found in Jeonghan’s gaze was perplexing. “What happened?” he asked with caution.

Joshua took pause, assuming that you might have just told him in brief what happened. “I told her I’m thinking of quitting the band. We had an argument. I shouldn’t have exploded like that, but the truth is… I’m exhausted. I don’t want this anymore,” he rasped with a nasty feeling making his face twist.

“Are you really quitting?” Jeonghan seemed unfazed by this turn of events.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, clasping his hands together as he lowered his head. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to sign for the label but… I never wanted this.”

“What is it that you hate so much about this?” he frowned with clear confusion rising in his tone. “Can’t you just admit publicly that she’s your girlfriend? Forget about me, or how I’d feel, you would have one thing less to worry about. Two, actually.”

Joshua turned to his best friend, processing his words over and over in his head, all the while scanning his features, finding nothing but quiet resolution. “You’re insane,” he realized. “You can’t say that. After all the shit that we went through to get here you can’t just decide to leave.”

Crossing his arms still, Jeonghan shrugged. “Well it can’t be that bad, right? I could just remain in the background or leave completely. I’m just saying, we can come up with some story to make all of this go away.”

“No,” he negated with his head. “No, I don’t want you to leave. And I’m pretty sure Bunny doesn’t want that either.”

Jeonghan said nothing at first, but Joshua could tell the severity of his entire demeanor had an underlying reason. “I don’t want to leave either, you know that. But look at yourself. I can’t stand looking at you like this,” Jeonghan admitted. “I tried to warn you, Shuji. You can’t make yourself happy by making everyone happy.”

The perplexing feeling sunk deeper within him. The only reaction Joshua could muster was a hollow laugh that went on until he thought this was what insanity felt like.

Jeonghan’s gaze turned to worry, his eyebrows pinching together.

“This is so fucked up,” Joshua muttered to himself, dropping his face back onto his hands and muffled a long sigh. “I’m so fucked.”

“If this is putting you in this state then we should call the polycule off,” he heard Jeonghan’s quiet tone try to bring some sense into this. “You can go back to your life before all of this, I’ll be fine.”

It seemed astounding to Joshua that his best friend would be up to do that if that made Joshua happy, even though that would mean walking away from you again. It had been so long since Jeonghan and him had a heart-to-heart, that they have missed out on so much. Joshua could easily assume what has happened in the time he been away.

But Jeonghan had no idea about what he has come to find out about himself.

“I can’t do this right now, Jeonghan,” Joshua decided, casting one look at Jeonghan’s face, and turned away from him, walking towards the door. “I’m not ready to talk about this.”

Joshua thought of what he would say to you as he crossed the rooftop, dragging his feet with heavy reluctance. He would undoubtedly apologize to you and tell you what was going on inside his head.

He did not want to walk away from his band, that was something he had said crassly, without really weighing how alarming that sounded given the state that he was in. He needed to sleep. He needed to think. He needed to—

“Stop hurting her, you fucking coward!” Jeonghan’s complaint resounded across the space between them, making Joshua stop dead in his tracks.

“What?” he blurted, turning around to see him approaching with an angry step.

“You always do this,” Jeonghan’s face twisted in annoyance, his brow furrowing as he lifted one finger to point at Joshua’s face. “You said you wouldn’t do this again. You lie and bottle up your feelings until it’s everyone’s problem!”

“I just said I can’t do this right now,” Joshua gritted.

But that just proved Jeonghan’s point. “The only time you can do it is when you blow up!” he accused. “How fucking hard can it be to just say what you truly think and feel?” he exasperatedly threw his hands at his sides.

“Like you say what you truly think and feel?” Joshua rolled his eyes in an irked way.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, dropping his hand on his side.

“We’ll talk about this later, Jeonghan,” he huffed, motioning to the door again.

“What do you want me to say? I’ll tell you right now,” he challenged, his chest falling and rising rapidly.

Joshua bit his tongue. His first instinct was to try and opt out of the conversation again, try and buy as much time as possible to figure out his feelings, to solve the itching confusion in his heart.

But as he faced his best friend, his resolve became clearer. He did not need to send any more tentative glances at him or wonder to himself any further. Jeonghan’s eyes kept reading his face over and over, just as Joshua drifted towards his lips, and then his eyes. 

“What?” Jeonghan’s brow furrowed deeper, the annoyance in his demeanor died down and swiftly turned into genuine bewilderment.

Joshua thought for a second that whatever emotion showed on his face made his intentions clear. “Jeonghan,” he breathed.

His brow finally relaxed; his eyes widening in wordless realization. “Joshua?”

A large hand grabbed the collar of Jeonghan’s hoodie, giving it a firm tug. Their chests clashed together, knocking the air out of their lungs. Joshua paused, giving Jeonghan a moment to back away, to put a stop on this before it was too late.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched, but no words came out of his parted lips.

An overwhelming fluttering invaded Joshua’s chest. His free hand cupped the back of his head, tangling his fingers on the long dark hair. They both looked at each other as they leaned closer, and closer. Jeonghan closed his eyes, so Joshua decided to do the same until their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

✮ author's note: hellooooooo,

here it is! slightly late but here it's the first part to my hannieween fest/kinktober celebration. i hope you liked it 🙂‍↕️

i am so excited for you guys to read the next chapter to lights out!! i am actually very excited to know what you think of this one. it took me some time to finish writing it because i have so many projects at the moment!

but here it is hehe. i'm happy.

✮ STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER SIX!! ✮

JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

eleven.

[ten] [eleven] [twelve]

faithful to its nature, its power never diminished.

Arms wrap around you sweetly, you lean into it. Wanting nothing more but to stay in the moment. ��you’re so pretty.” And you look over to see Viktor. You smile, going in to place a kiss on his lips. It was perfect. The room was dark, only dimly lit by the laptop screen that played…

That played um… What is it playing? You pull away from the kiss, to look over at the device that was beginning to look weird. “What the-” “[Name]?” You look back over to Viktor who was now replaced by Powder. Your best friend. You furrow your eyebrows, slightly in disgust. You blink a few times.

“What?” You rasp and you hear Powder laugh, her arm rested on your waist as the two of you lay together on your bed watching a show. “Dude, you passed out.” She announces. “We’ve only watched one episode.” She tells you and you scrunch your face. Trying to register what was happening. “Sorry.” 

She raises a brow at you. “Have a nightmare or something?” Powder sits up, her arm going back to her own side. You frown momentarily at the loss of her warmth. “No, I- it was stupid.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting up as well. Staring down at your fingers as your face grows flustered. “Tell me about it.” 

You think back to the short, painfully short dream. “It was about Viktor. For the hundredth time.” You sigh, annoyed with your own brain. Creating such imagery in your own head that you now have to think about when you’re conscious. “Mm, not surprised.” Powder huffs out a laugh, leaning into you as she also pauses the show. “Thanks.” You scoff, sliding off the bed to stretch out your limbs. 

“No problem, but seriously I have a question.” Your best friend follows suit, jumping on the ground. Surely to give you guys another complaint by the people underneath you. “What?” You ask, heading over to your desk, plopping down on the rolly chair.

“Do you love him or something?” The question catches you off guard and your eyes almost pop out of your own head. “Love?” You repeat.

“Yeah, if I’m wrong you can tell me but I only ask because this is like a heartbreak [Name]. I’ve never seen you this… disheveled over any break ups you’ve had.” Powder explains her reasoning. 

And thinking back to it, she’s right. With your past relationships, that was official, you’ve never really given it another thought when it ended. It was over and yeah you were sad for a little bit but this is different.

Your chest ached with the mention of Viktor. In most dreams there he existed, holding and loving you, and each time you pleaded it was real when you wake up. Only to be left with the harsh reality that you ruined that chance of being tangible.

You beat yourself up every second you're alone. 

“I don’t know. It had only been two-three weeks of getting to know one another. I feel love is a strong word for that.” You tell her truthfully. “Did you love him when he was your online friend?” She inquires and your eyes travel over to your phone. “I had love for him. He was a close friend but can you fall in love with someone you technically never met?” You question, it was something you asked yourself quite a lot. Did you love Ma? Could you fall for someone you never saw face to face. Was that possible? And if it was, is it pathetic? 

“I think so, I mean you know who he is now. Is the feeling the same for both?” 

“Why are you interrogating me?” You ignore the last sentence, now feeling on edge on how deep this was getting. “Just curious.” She hums. “I don’t know the answer.” And truthfully you didn’t. 

Love? You don’t even know if you’ve ever truly loved someone. As time passed you believed you weren’t capable of loving someone more than a friend. With your exes it never felt right. In those relationships you were honestly miserable. No motivation, putting on a mask, and not being true to yourself. 

You couldn’t enjoy your interests. Your art is forgotten about.

With Ma… or Viktor. Both. That never happened. If anything you were more motivated.

In high school you stayed up until ungodly hours, painting, sketching out sculptures based on the sound of Ma’s voice. The colors you saw, the feelings you felt all put into your art. 

Specifically the crowd paintings you created. Crowds of people. Crowds of familiar faces but not the one you wanted to see. A face that you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet blurred out but facing you in each painting. Only one figure that stood there, staring back at you. No features attainable to recognize.

And you hated it. You wanted to know who it was.

“Wonderful ideas, wonderful models. I don’t think I’ve had such intelligent and creative students as I do this year. Take this time to inspect others' projects and mingle with one another.” Your biology professor tells the class, everyone of you standing up to his directions. 

Viktor and you stick together, unintentionally throughout the room. No words said between either of you.

You admire your fellow classmates' work, clicking through the slides on each laptop. Reading thoroughly through their slides. Silently gushing at the way they decorated their boards. Viktor observes you the entire time. 

The words of his friends stick in his mind. You don’t entirely seem upset? But if they had seen it themselves, surely they’re not lying to him. His eyes scanned your face closely. A hardened gaze, his jaw clenching subconsciously.

Did he want to see you upset? Why would he want that? To know you’re hurting just as much as he is? Would he wish that pain on someone he lo- he respects? 

No, he wouldn’t.

You look back at him with a polite smile. “Right?” His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?” He asks hesitantly, his cheeks fell warm as he is put on the spot by you. You snicker. “I said, their work is so organized, maybe the two of you would hit it off.” You repeat, your breath now caught in your throat. Wondering if that was too friendly too soon. He glances over to the people’s work. 

It had no color, monotonous and tidy. Is that what you think of him? Bland, tasteless and… boring? 

His head bows down, a ghost of a nod. “Sure.” He dryly replies, unfortunately feeding into your worries. “Did I say something wrong?” You quietly inquire as you guys head to the next board. A clique of students pushing past you. 

“No?” He averts your eye contact. Was he actually upset that you think of him like that? 

“Oh.” You puff out your cheeks, not knowing what else to say.

The voices of others cover the awkward beats of silence between the two of you.

“Am I that mundane to you?” He was almost inaudible when he asked the sudden question. You cock your head to the side. Your mouth opens to answer but he lets out a scoff shaking his head.

“Don’t answer that.” He walks ahead of you. 

Mundane? Why would he think that? You pointed out the person’s tidiness because of how put together Viktor is. You admired that.

He preferred things a certain way, his room showed that. He still had a personality outside of that. His energy drew you in. The way he held himself, the enigmatic essence but also the familiarity you felt.

And now you know the familiarity was Ma. They were the same person.

Ma used to tell you about the moon and constellations for hours. He enjoyed star gazing. He enjoyed reading and learning about living beings. Their struggles. But also their potential to be more than who they were raised to be. 

He was far from mundane. Viktor was more than who he thought himself to be. In your eyes he was far better than perfect. There wasn’t a word for how you perceived him. Because every word seemed minimal in comparison to what you felt.  

“You found your muse?” You hear your professor behind you. You glare down at your paper then up to them. “What? No, look at this.” You express, lifting up the sketch and shaking it dramatically. “I am. It seems you found it.” They place a gentle hand upon your shoulder. 

You drew a crowd. Just like your millions upon millions of paintings posted on your instagram. How is a crowd of people your muse? Your eyebrows knit together and you look up to Dr. Shoola once more. “This is just a random sketch?” You say in more of a question. You were confused. You drew this often, but it’s not your muse. 

“You’re a silly one, [Name].” They pat your shoulder, moving onto Ekko’s sketch in front of you. Your eyes land back at the sheet of paper. Found your muse? Where?

You observed your own drawing. What are you not seeing?

This is short, I did it on purpose because twelve and thirteen are going to be longer. :) And honestly I do have a concussion and this took me hours. I probably shouldn't have been on my laptop the way I was but I had to post thisssss.

Two more chapters left.

Taglist: @policedeer @ang3lz-lov3 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @corpsepies @almostdrowningdown @obittwo @ren-ni @xx-siren-sings-xx @donnie-is-here @urmommt

[nsokolow]

Transformers One: Charoite

Chapter Eleven

“So, what is this tunnel?” Charoite asked as she and B climbed up the tunnel.

“Well, this is the new autobot base. It was a failing store that allowed miners in. You know, before they found out they were born with cogs and being lied to their whole lives. Me included! Tunnels got built after all the Sentinel stuff went down and the energon came back.” B gasped and looked back. “Wait! Did you know the energon came back?”

“I assumed, since miners aren’t a thing anymore.”

“Okay! Great! Anyway, there’s been some renovations, including some tunnels for safety reasons, like if someone needs to rescue a bot being chased by other bots because she was involved with an evil fake prime!”

Charoite nearly laughed, but hearing Sentinel called, “evil,” was a punch in the stomach. Even if…it was…true.

“So, B, do you miss mining?” Charoite asked.

“Well, here’s the thing: I actually didn’t mine. I mean, I worked in jobs more or less related to mining, but I didn’t actually mine. Optimus and Elita did, though! So did…Megatron. I kept getting moved around from job to job because I had mad skills! I mean, I must’ve, since the higher-ups would get mad and argue with each other over who I should work under. For the longest time, I was in this area called, ‘Sub-level 50,’ where I would gather garbage and—oh! We’re here!”

Light assaulted Charoite’s face as B, now out of the tunnel, extended a hand. She grabbed his hand and climbed out.

There were…lots of floors and walls. It was surprisingly empty. Charoite however recalled B saying that there were renovations, so it must’ve not been done yet. After all, mining had only stopped being a thing, what, two months ago?

“Pretty clean, huh? I helped! I transform into a car, so I put these scrubby caps on my wheels, covered them in soap, and drove all over the place! It was slippery, but it made it more fun!”

“No kidding!” Charoite smiled and nodded. She looked around the area and saw a a staircase with light shining from the top.

“That’s where Optimus lives! Oh! Where are my manners? I’m supposed to take you to Optimus! Come on!” B ran up the staircase as Charoite followed him.

“I mean, some of us live here, some of us don’t. Mainly the ones who didn’t used to have cogs live here, since a lot of us lived in the Miner’s Barracks. I live here, and so does Elita-1! There’s also this guy, Jazz, and this girl, Arcee. Jazz is so happy to have wings now. Seriously, it’s all he could talk about forever! Who knew he was a flyer? For context, he was one of the so-called ‘miners,’ and—oh! We’re here! Hey, Optimus!”

A tall bot, blue on his head and feet, his chest red with…the Matrix of Leadership inside of it, sat on a couch and read a book. Upon seeing Charoite and B, he stood up and walked to them. “Hey, B! We have a visitor?”

Charoite noticed he had a warm, welcoming smile. She was put even more at ease.

“Optimus! Hey!” B put a hand on Charoite’s back and gently pushed her. “You remember Charoite, right? I don’t know if you formally met; she was the bot who was Sentinel’s secretary and one of his racers, even though she hasn’t raced yet, then he said she died, then it turned out they got into a relationship, then a lot of bots hated her—”

“—We haven’t formally met, no!” Optimus extended his hand. “Hello, Charoite. I’m Optimus Prime. Welcome to the Autobot Base. Glad to see you’re alive!”

Charoite felt more touched by this than she wanted to. He threw his best friend out of Iacon City when he tried to save it! “T-Thank you! I’m Charoite, though I guess you already knew that.”

“So, how did you and B meet?”

“When I came back to Iacon City, I was being chased down by a bunch of nut jobs because of Sentinel, and B told me to get into a tunnel over there, and we hid. Talk about a welcoming committee, huh?”

Optimus let out a small chuckle. “Well, that’s what we Autobots are here for. We protect, and we don’t let rumors blind us from doing what’s right.” Optimus turned to B. “Glad you thought to use the tunnel. Thank you.”

“Wow! Thank you! I looked out the window and saw these bots flying after her, and I really wanted to do something. I mean, I can’t fly, so I thought ‘Oh! Right! We have tunnels! Time to be a hero!’”

“So, Charoite, where were you when everyone thought you were dead?” Optimus asked.

Charoite froze. She realized she made a huge oversight as a spy.

“I was…on the surface. I went with Sentinel to one of his trips. I didn’t know what he was going to do.” Charoite became a bit calmer, hoping making a true statement would be enough.

“You…just hung out on the surface all this time, then?” B asked with a raised eyebrow.

Great.

“I mean, we were stranded on the surface not too long ago, but we couldn’t transform or fly, and even then, it would’ve taken forever to make it back, unless it was too dangerous. Yeah, it probably would’ve been too dangerous.”

In her mental rush, Charoite wished she could’ve come up with a more interesting, and less painful story. At least some of the truth would work. Besides, Megatron said it would be helpful to play up the fact Sentinel abandoned her and broke her spark. “Well, yeah. That’s close to what happened to me. I saw the truth about Sentinel and the Quintessons, then when I didn’t kneel to them, the Quintesson leader chased me down and stabbed me. Sentinel almost stopped him, but he didn’t.” Charoite didn’t feel like bringing the last part up more than she had to.

Optimus put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry he betrayed you like that. Tell me, how did you survive being stabbed?”

“Yeah! There’s a little hint of a circle on your chest!” B piped up.

Oh no.

“Well, I, uh…welded myself back together!” Charoite tried to read Optimus and B’s expressions, hoping they bought it.

“No way!” B exclaimed, “That’s so cool! It must’ve been so hard! Losing all that oil while trying to keep yourself alive and put yourself back together! You should write a memoir, then it could be made into a movie!”

A laugh escaped Charoite. “Yeah! Maybe more bots will say my name right!”

Optimus’ eyes widened. “Oh! Have we been pronouncing it wrong?”

“Oh! No, it’s just that I sometimes get ‘Chariot.’ Like, who’s named ‘Chariot?’”

“Oh, okay, good.” Optimus smiled.

“So, could Charoite stay here?” B asked. “We have some empty rooms, and since she has a lot of haters now, she’d probably be safer here.”

“Of course she can, B. Even if she had a place to stay, which I don’t think she does…” Optimus gave Charoite an unsure look.

“No,” Charoite replied, a hint of fear in her eyes. She planned to get a hotel if Optimus had said ‘no,’ but she didn’t know how long she could pay for a hotel room, or when she’d be able to get her own place again.

“…it probably wouldn’t be as safe for her anywhere else, considering the…controversy. So B, why don’t you show her around? She can pick one of the empty rooms.”

“Holy scrap! Thank you so much!” Charoite ran up to Optimus and tightly hugged him.

“Haha, you’re welcome.” Optimus lightly patted her back.

“Come on, Charoite!” B grabbed Charoite’s hand and took off down the stairs. “I can’t wait to tell you everything about this place, then tell you everything about me! I wanna know everything about you! You’re not a very quiet bot, but you’re still pretty mysterious. I talk a lot, but I like to consider myself kind of a mystery! I don’t want you to feel not at home, so ask me anything any time you want! I’m an open book!”

[campchitaquamemories]

🚨Mutual Aid/Rent Assistance Request🚨

Hey, Tumblr. It's Gigi again. It's January 2024 and I am still a disabled single mother of 2, attempting to make ends meet and coming up short. Due to a stupid tech issue I have been unable to work the past 3 days - work that would have made money I *need* to make sure that my rent and electricity and phone bills get paid. Overall, I'm going to be out close to $300 by 2/1, maybe more, but that's the best estimate I have at the moment.

I am a real person, I have been a tumblr user for eleven years. I have long-term mutuals here who (I hope) will reblog this with endorsements that I am a real person and not a scammer or a bot. You can also have a selfie of me sitting at my desk today, supremely pissed about not being able to work when I really need to.

If you are able to donate, please do. If you are not able to donate, please reblog this, signal boost it, idk send me your best thoughts... I had been doing *so well* about pulling myself out of this health hole but the stress of the holidays and now this work situation is really dragging me back down again.

I can accept mutual aid via PayPal and Venmo @MomGinny and CashApp at $vrwilson87. I will not be responding to DM requests for other donation methods, as they have all turned out to be scammers in the past. Here are some QR codes for your convenience:

Thank you all for being awesome, I appreciate each and every one of you.

[satoshi-mochida]

Inazuma Eleven: Victory Road Worldwide Beta Test Demo for Switch launches March 28, fifth trailer

From Gematsu

The Inazuma Eleven: Victory Road Worldwide Beta Test Demo will launch for Switch on March 28 at 4:00 a.m. PT / 7:00 a.m. ET / 20:00 JST, LEVEL-5 announced. It will support English, Japanese, Traditional Chinese, Simplified Chinese, French, Italian, German, Spanish, and Portuguese (Brazil) language options.

Here is an overview of the beta test, via its official website:

Competition Mode

Enjoy competing online or against bots, and train up your players! A spectator mode is also available to watch online matches!

Team Formation Tips and Tricks

All characters have their own Team Passives. Think of how to combine them to bring out the best in all of your team members!

Increase Rarity via Spirits

The higher a player’s rarity, the better they are! To increase a player’s rarity, you’ll need Spirits, which you can acquire by playing matches!

Player Selection

You can select up to 48 players for your team! Assemble your dream team! Teams include Inazuma All-Stars, National Champs, and Alius Masters.

Victory Gallery

Win matches to flip over the panels and reveal concept art! There are plenty of pieces of character art and scenery to find. 100 in total!

Story Mode

Enjoy the main story! The main story, featuring Destin Billows, our new protagonist, will be added soon! It will also feature a wealth of animated cutscenes !

Inazuma Eleven: Victory Road is due out for PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Switch, PC via Steam, iOS, and Android in 2024.

Watch a new trailer below.

Trailer #5

English

Japanese

Traditional Chinese

Simplified Chinese

[art-making-grat]

*drops this and runs*

tsp doodles yippee ignore my inconsistency with the design and my style haha

also bonus settings character guy who was Stanley’s childhood best friend but then when he was like eleven he was brutally slaughtered and a robot took his body which is now forever the body of an eleven year old and the mind of whatever the settings bot is

@blackkatdraws come pick up your man lmao 😭

[gaelic-symphony]

A Year in the Life: September

Twelve vignettes from the married life of Tara Lewis and Emily Prentiss, written for the Year of the OTP writing challenge.

Prompt: Hurt/comfort. Also fills the square "I'll take care of you" for @prentiss-theorem's bingo challenge.

Words: 652

Warnings: Hospitals, minor injuries (nothing too graphic)

Read on AO3 or below the cut

            Chasing after unsubs in boots over uneven terrain meant there was always the possibility of injury, and Tara felt the pop as her leg gave way beneath her and she tumbled to the ground.  An x-ray at the hospital confirmed it: Her ankle was broken.  Emily rushed over to the hospital as soon as she got the call from Matt that Tara was hurt, and she flung open the door to the hospital room where an orthopedist was preparing gauze and plaster to wrap Tara’s ankle.

            “Tara, honey, what happened?” she cried as she hurried over to her wife’s side.

            “I’m okay,” Tara assured her, “I just fell, no big deal.”

            “Your wife has a lateral malleolus fracture,” the doctor said, “The lower part of her fibula is broken.  It’s a clean break, and she’ll make a full recovery without surgery.  There’s no need to worry, Mrs. Lewis.”

            Emily felt a little flush and a pleasant tingle in her spine at hearing herself addressed that way, and she smiled down at Tara and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

            “Okay, now, Tara, this will probably hurt a bit,” the doctor continued, “But before I put the cast on, I need to realign the bone so it’ll heal properly.”

            “Need a hand to hold, babe?” Emily offered, extending her hand to Tara.

            Tara grabbed Emily’s hand, and the doctor gently put his hand on Tara’s swollen ankle, letting her take a breath and prepare herself for what he was about to do.  He squeezed her ankle joint, expertly manipulating everything back into place.  Tara groaned in pain and grasped Emily’s hand as tight as she could, her fingernails digging into Emily’s skin.  With her free hand, Emily gently stroked Tara’s hair and planted a soothing kiss on the top of her head.  Once the doctor had finished setting the bone, Tara relaxed her grip on Emily’s hand and pulled it closer to kiss it.

            “You’re doing great, Tara,” the doctor said, “The hard part’s over.”

            “Are you sure the hard part’s not going to be having this big heavy cast on my leg for the next six weeks?” Tara chuckled wryly.

            The doctor began wrapping Tara’s ankle, first in soft gauze, then in hard plaster.  It was still tender, and Tara would occasionally wince in pain as the layers of the cast were added to particularly sensitive spots.  Each time she winced, Emily wrapped her arm around Tara’s shoulders a little tighter and pulled her a little closer, as if she were trying to protect her wife from the pain.

            “Last time I had a cast it was lime green,” Tara said wistfully, looking at the plain white plaster the doctor had just encased her leg in.

            “How old were you?” Emily laughed.

            “Eleven,” Tara said, “I fell off my bike and broke my arm.”

            “Did all your friends sign your cast?” Emily asked.

            “Of course!” Tara replied, “That was the best part!”

            “Maybe you can get the team to sign your cast back at the office,” Emily joked.

            “Guess I’m gonna be spending a lot of time there now,” Tara grumbled, “How long until I’m back in the field, doctor?”

            “Oh, it’ll be at least a couple of months,” the doctor said, “Even once the cast comes off, you’ll still have some healing to do.  Your body can’t just bounce back from a broken bone like it did when you were eleven.  You’ll need to stay off that ankle and ease back into things.  Don’t push yourself too hard.”

            “I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it, doc,” Emily assured him.

            Tara rolled her eyes.  “Emily…”

            “Nuh uh,” Emily shook her head, “Don’t even bother arguing.  I’m taking you home, and you’re going to get plenty of rest.”

            “Don’t you have to get back to work?” Tara asked.

            “The team can take care of the case,” Emily said, “I’ll take care of you.”

[monstrousproductions]

I trust your taste

Can you recommend some fiction books? Fantasy is highly appreciated!

Oooh what a sign of trust!! OK so I don't actually read a huge ton of fantasy, so I'll do my best with a couple of non-fantasy that I just can't resist mentioning at the end.

Also, this got... a bit long... so I'm putting it under a Read More lol

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K Le Guin - classic fantasy about a boy who becomes a great wizard. I realise this is likely one you've already read, as a fantasy fan, but it's a classic for a reason! Absolutely beautiful, and really powerful for me as a Quaker because of its rejection of the idea that fantasy must always be about The Goodie winning over The Baddie by doing killing better than them. If you've read it already, read it again lmao Also there's a new audiobook that came out a few years ago read by Kobna Holdbrook-Smith which is just brilliant.

The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin does come with a decent load of content warnings so do tread carefully if necessary, but it's also the best fantasy I've read in YEARS. The book is split over three different narratives in a world where magic users are an oppressed class, and again the audiobooks are amazing, read by Robin Miles.

Meanwhile I very much do NOT recommend the audiobook for Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb, though I did enjoy the book when I read it. The audiobook is, I believe, read by an American putting on what he thinks is an English accent, and um. Well. It sure is something. It's pretty classic fantasy too, and one of those books that you're like "what in God's name do you mean, this wasn't intended to be gay??"

The Heavens by Sandra Newman always makes my rec lists because it made me cry a lot and it's just very beautiful. Again the narrative is split, one taking place in an alternate, utopian present and one in Elizabethan England, with the narratives linked by the fact that the Elizabethan stuff is happening in the dreams of the woman in the present.

My favourite book ever is Fire & Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones, it's about an unlikely friendship between a girl and a young man with lots of fae things and that brilliant blending of magic and reality that DWJ does so well. It's so much my favourite that when I recommend it to friends, I ask them to please not tell me if they didn't like it - just pretend you didn't read it haha Honestly I recommend any DWJ, but F&H is my baby <3

Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees was one of those books I read once that just stayed with me. It's about a Perfectly Ordinary English Town that sees an influx of fairy fruit and has to deal with that, and while I'm fuzzy on remembering the details, I know I loved it!

And then because I actually read more SF than fantasy as a general rule, here's a jumble of SF titles that I adore (though I'll spare you the waffle!):

the Imperial Radch triology by Ann Leckie about a troop carrier who becomes a person (she also has a fantasy book - The Raven's Tower - if that appeals more and all her audiobooks in the UK are read by Adjoa Andoh who I would simply die for)

the Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, about a security bot who becomes a person (audiobooks are read by Kevin R Free, of Nightvale fame, and they're brilliant)

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, about two soldiers in warring time-travel factions sending letters to each other (also made me cry)

To Be Taught If Fortunate by Becky Chambers, about space researchers who change their bodies to adapt to the worlds they find and what ethical issues they come up against

The City We Became by NK Jemisin, about people who become living avatars of the different districts of New York to fight an alien presence (also a good audiobook - Robin Miles again)

All Our Wrong Todays by Elan Mastai, about a man from a utopian timeline suddenly stuck in our timeline instead (good audiobook too)

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel, about a travelling theatre troup in a world where civilisation collapsed after a terrible pandemic (obviously tread carefully wrt how upsetting that might be for you!)

And then it isn't SFF in any strict sense but The Man Who Was Thursday by GK Chesterton (Simon Vance does the audiobook I like) is just very very fun and good and I like it a lot. Also the Lord Peter Wimsey novels, for the same reason!

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 18a

ARC image by Eury Escodero | gif by @bartonromanoffs

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Tony arrives in NYC to start building the Mark II, and Emory stretches her powers with SHIELD.

Length: 2,930

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

An hour later, everything’s brought in and arranged to Tony’s exacting standards. Thanks to the 70’s concrete chic down here, he almost can’t tell he’s in New York. Tony cracks his knuckles and rolls his neck. All of his plans are coming to fruition. He’s got just about eleven days until his next call with Emory, during which he hopes to get a sense of her schedule and desperation level. Pepper’s reconnaissance will be done by then, hopefully achieving the dual aims of gathering intel on the location and letting Coulson’s puppet-masters know that Tony hasn’t given up. He’s got the best coffee money can buy, a chair so comfortable it would make a grown man weep, and not quite enough time to make everything happen.

“JARVIS, you set up?”

“Installed and ready, sir.”

“Let’s make physics weep, shall we?”

“As always.”

Chapter Eighteen: Halogen

The house in NYC is ready sooner than Tony had expected. He has JARVIS arrange everything for the actual suit construction for the East coast and finishes up the preliminary planning before they leave. It feels fitting that he’ll be building it closer to Emory.

Pepper flies out a day early to make sure it’s all set up and to attend a pivotal meeting at the New York office. When they’re finally done traveling, Happy stays outside to organize the workers as they carry in everything, leaving Tony to go in by himself. The rooms are mostly as he remembers, but somehow the bad memories don’t slice past his defenses the way they used to. It isn’t until he walks through the whole house chasing yet dreading the moment when they finally crash down on him that Tony realizes what’s happened.

The furniture is the same, but the walls are different. In every room. Pepper has added quite a few of his favorite pieces from the art collection, each hung with a designer’s eye, complimenting the room. With this change, his brilliant assistant has broken most of the associations between his negative memories and the rooms where they were made. Downstairs, the two workshop spaces are completely different from his childhood and adolescence, full of Tony’s things, instead of Howard’s. She’d also left him a note, exhorting him to create new memories.

His mind leaps to Emory immediately. However, if she hasn’t figured out how to temper her powers, the prevailing memory will be of hurricane-force winds destroying the mansion around their ears. That’s several steps ahead, though. He has to rescue her in the first place. He’s got the designs, the raw materials, and the means to fabricate something unique and powerful. All Tony needs is time and patience, two things that are in short supply for him right now.

Oh, and a way to get back out of the suit. Preferably without almost falling to his death this time.

He’s even got a name for that part: Disrobe-Bot. Happy had been horrified when Tony had suggested it in the car, so he knows it’s perfect. 

An hour later, everything’s brought in and arranged to Tony’s exacting standards. Thanks to the 70’s concrete chic down here, he almost can’t tell he’s in New York. Tony cracks his knuckles and rolls his neck. All of his plans are coming to fruition. He’s got just about eleven days until his next call with Emory, during which he hopes to get a sense of her schedule and desperation level. Pepper’s reconnaissance will be done by then, hopefully achieving the dual aims of gathering intel on the location and letting Coulson’s puppet-masters know that Tony hasn’t given up. He’s got the best coffee money can buy, a chair so comfortable it would make a grown man weep, and not quite enough time to make everything happen.

“JARVIS, you set up?”

“Installed and ready, sir.”

“Let’s make physics weep, shall we?”

“As always.”

By the start of week two, Emory notices that her classmates have begun to treat her with an odd kind of deference.

“Okay, that’s it. I think you’re a plant, Emma! No one’s courting you at lunch for their division, and you’re a little too good at seeming to struggle in here!” The accusation comes from Chelle Song, the most athletic of the recruits.

Emory looks up from her shoe tying. “Is that why everyone switches tables so much?” Since day one she’d eaten alone, while everyone else in the class sat with a different group of SHIELD employees every day.

“You guys see how studiously neutral that answer was? Classic. You’re going into Ops, aren’t you?” Chelle pushes. “I still can’t decide. Got to have lunch with Agent Hill yesterday and she was really persuasive about Comms, but--”

“But Chelle has a crush on Brock, so she wants to look ‘persuadable’ enough to land a lunch date!” Peter Wheeler teases.

“Oh shut up, you’re just making connections for your mom’s bid for Security Council!” Chelle shoots back. Peter, as he repeatedly mentions ‘in passing,’ is Senator Alison Wheeler’s son. “You’re just wasting everyone’s time while you get your ‘Do You Know Who My Mother Is’ PhD for a spot in Science, pfft.”

“Wait, am I the only one who got the certificate in a candy bar?” Emory asks lightly, hoping to defuse things.

“If by ‘certificate in a candy bar’ you mean above 95% on the admissions test for more than one academy, yeah,” Peter smirks.

“Couldn’t your mom get her staffers to take the tests for you? I guess you’re just like the rest of us, Veruca!” Chelle waves gaily as she sails through the door with three of the other recruits.

“She’s just salty because they’re not courting her for ops,” one of the other guys says.

“Salty. Nice,” Peter says. He turns and offers Emory a smarmy grin. “Well, Emma, if you want an ally, let me know. I’ve got some pretty sweet connections. My uncle is a VP at Hammer, and my dad’s on the board at AIM.” Behind him, the only other student left rolls his eyes and salutes her before heading for the door.

Emory’s done enough googling about Stark Industries to know that both companies are considered Tony’s competitors. Chelle’s accusation of a hidden agenda was pure luck, but are Peter’s namedrops equally coincidental?

“Thanks, Peter,” Emory says, pushing her PA sincerity into high gear. “I’d tell you about my contacts, but then I’d have to-- Well, you know.” She shrugs, offering him a shy smile. On her way out, Emory glances across the training room and sees Agent May. The exacting instructor gives her a nod of respect, which coats Emory in a layer of energy from the resulting pride. 

The power dissipates on the way to lunch. The truth is that she’s being lied to in multiple ways, probably by multiple people. Emory’s fear of losing control had turned her thoroughly compliant. It’s frightening to realize how easily she let herself excuse what’s going on, but then again, that’s how she ended up so dominated by Rory.

She sighs, setting the tray down to fill up her drink cup with something that isn’t tepid water. The food here isn’t bean stew. The bed she sleeps on doesn’t nearly topple when she rolls over. The building’s temperature is normalized.

Best of all, she can see the sun from multiple angles, even go out with her agency minder and feel its rays warm her skin without fearing for her life. But Emory’s still a prisoner. Most of her light is still artificial, for all that it’s higher quality and more illuminating than the yellowed fluorescent bulbs in the cave.

Emory drops her head on her arms, right there at the lunch table. She’s been dazzled into accepting a fancier cage, but it’s still a cage. If she wants to feel less like a lab mouse, she’ll need to stop acting like one.

The first test of Tony’s repulsor boots does not go well. Not only does the sound of him crashing into the support beams in the garage bring both Happy and Pepper down from breakfast to investigate (Note to JARVIS: viability tests should only be performed when Ms. Potts’ GPS location is not within auditory range), but when the fire-suppressant settles, Tony has a black eye.

He’s supposed to meet with the board this afternoon.

Pepper fixes him up after lunch, arguing that there’s no point in wasting the makeup till after he’s done eating, which, fair. He’s worn makeup before for stage appearances and talk shows, but usually to conceal the evidence of a late night of wine, women, and song.

His toe is almost healed. The whole foot feels better encased in metal armor, so he wears the boots. Tony threads two thin wires through his clothing to connect them to power on the off chance that the board doesn’t believe him when he says he is building a hover suit with (hopefully! There are more tests to be done) astonishing reconnaissance capabilities. The heads up display he envisions has a camera and a couple of visual enhancements. It’s purely defensive, but still something he can see Stark Industries selling-- and he sure as fuck will load the damned things up with code that only his people could make work.

Tony snorts. That fat fucker from the cave wishes he could figure tech like this out.

The self-satisfied smile from that thought is exactly what the board would expect to see, so Tony keeps it in place as he strolls through the door, expecting to see all every seat at the table turn toward him.

Only one does, because only one is occupied.

Obediah Stane doesn’t even get up. “Tony! Glad you could make it.”

“What’s this? I’m practically early! Tell me you didn’t tell everyone else a different time, you know I hate that shit.” 

Obie’s insincere smile in response is chilling. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that to ya. The meeting was yesterday.”

“I’d make a ‘stabbed in the heart’ joke but something tells me that wouldn’t play well,” Tony says coolly. Inside, his blood is boiling. Did he imagine this man being sporadically paternal over the years, or has Tony just been a boiling frog the whole time?

“Have a seat, okay? Let me explain. I even got the pizza you like, kept it in this bag so you couldn’t smell it right away,” Obie says with an easy smile, pulling the bagged box from its hiding place.

“What’s the topping, pomegranate seeds?”

“Hey, I wish I had Hades’ empire or head for strategy. Instead, all I could manage is to keep them from removing ya from your position for a couple more months.” Obie leans back and spreads his hands in his personal signal of humility. “Let me tell you, starting out I thought it would take hell freezing over to manage that, but they came around. I told them what you’d been through, that you’d been fatally injured but made it through. That you’d lost one of your fellow PoWs in your escape. It made an impression, Tony.”

Stane’s tone is familiar, comforting. Tony can’t stand the juxtaposition. He crosses his arms and nods, clenching his jaw and nodding just once. “What’s the bad news?”

“We need to offer them something in two weeks. Blueprints, prototype, something. Sit down, Tony. Eat something.”

Tony walks over and shoves the chair aside, sitting on the table with the box between himself and Obie. He grabs the largest slice and folds it, cramming an absurd amount of pizza in his mouth. “Two weeks isn’t a couple more months,” he says, the words barely comprehensible.

“I may have promised them we had a few things already in the pipe, because you do, don’t you?” Obie says, nodding at Tony’s feet.

Shit.

“Maybe,” Tony says, swallowing too soon.

“I heard you fucked up your foot. Let me guess: you’ve got something up your ‘sleeve’--” he reaches over and tweaks Tony’s pant leg. “--that you were hoping to show them, right? Right?” Stane chuckles. “You’re all beat up, should be resting, but not Tony Stark. You built those, probably to help you walk in here as full of vigor as always. Might be onto something there. Exoskeletons, isn’t that what they’re called? Armor that doesn’t just protect healthy troops-- injured ones, too. We could keep ‘em fighting!” Obie’s voice is flush with excitement, and it’s infectious. “Dignity, Tony. That’s what we could be restoring. Can you see it?” 

He can. Enough that he feels bad to doubt this man, who is in no ways perfect, but neither was Tony’s actual father. What’s more, Tony had already planned to have his suit flight-ready by the end of this week, so two weeks is generous. It allows him time to spend with Emory, time that he can tell Stane he’s too busy to be bothered. It would keep the other man off his back at exactly the right time. Tony nods.

“Great! Set it up with Rhodes, will ya? The two of you always do great things with the military.”

Almost all of Tony’s unease is gone. As an executive, Stane always was unpredictable, and it nearly always goes in Tony’s favor. This doesn’t feel all that different than before, which should feel good, normal, ordinary. This is their dynamic, after all.

"Okay, but you lied to me so you forfeit this pizza," Tony says, hopping down from the table and taking the whole box.

With each step away from the conference room, Obie's words ring warning bells in his mind. He would have told Emory not to trust Obie, if their situations were reversed. Does that mean he should go back there and challenge Stane? What would really change, if Tony decided he wasn’t trustworthy? He’s still going to build the suit. The idea of a purely defensive carapace still has merit, even if he doesn’t quite trust that Obie was being genuine back there.

Instead of going back up, Tony checks off one of the ‘benefit of the doubts’ that his younger self still owes Obediah Stane. In light of the contrast between the advice he’s giving himself and the advice he’d give Emory, though, Tony does allow his uncertainty to linger. He’s not just protecting himself for his own sake, after all. There’s just more not to tell Emory about during that call.

Thirty hours after her realization about suppressing her feelings, Emory’s caught up in a mental siege battle between her sense of duty and her sense of outrage. 

So far, every minute of her adulthood has been about calculated risk, and in that equation, the 'Emory' variable always has the lowest value. Now that she's feeling the full brunt of SHIELD's unethical actions, Emory can't put the anger genie back in the bottle- and it's time for a sparring session with Hawkeye and Black Widow. She'd at least managed to hide her inner turmoil during her one-on-one yesterday with Natasha. Emory's frustration had helped, as she'd been trying to use her powers to hurl objects at the tree she'd uprooted. There's little hope that she'll be doing anything that can conceal her wildly fluctuating emotional energy.

Emory lets herself into the room quietly and leans against the wall. She waves awkwardly at Clint, who nods a ‘sup at her and promptly dodges sideways. As a result, Natasha’s attack misses, even though there’s no way he could have seen it coming.

“Really?” Natasha asks him when she immediately pivots into a move that sweeps his feet out from under him. Clint does a swift roll that gets him back on his feet, throwing his hands out beside him as if asking ‘what’ at the same time as challenging her to attack again.

“Not my problem you get predictable when there’s a distraction!”

“Because we fight the same enemies so regularly.” Natasha shoots a sarcastic look at Clint.

“Won’t always be the case.” He lunges toward her with one hand chopping toward her neck. With the other hand, Clint reaches back and pulls an actual knife from a pocket at the back of his vest. He turns his body to block Natasha’s counterattack that blocks the short jabbing attack he makes with the weapon. Emory tries to keep her frightened indrawn breath silent as she watches, but Natasha is ready for Clint, twisting her leg up to deflect the attack with her knee. “You of all people ought to be prepared to fight your former allies, don’t you think?” Clint says, his voice only slightly strained as Natasha tries to twist his knife hand into a position that forces him to drop it.

It looks like they’re done, but suddenly she rears up her foot and kicks out, striking Clint’s wrist with a kick that has him dropping the knife and hissing, “Nice.”

“How often do you need the ER, do you think?” Emory asks weakly.

Clint chuckles. “Never.” 

His answer comes at the same time as Natasha’s, which is “Often enough.” 

“Does that make this the ‘anything goes’ training room?”

“No, he’s pretty much always trying to kill me. I just return the favor.”

"Hey, I figured, if Emory's freaked, she won't have the focus to uproot the building!" Clint tucks his knife away as he speaks.

“It’s not just positive emotions. If you scare her often enough we might just use an image of your face as a generator,” Natasha teases. “Okay, stand here, I’m going to hold my arms up and I want you to try to hit me,” she continues in a businesslike tone, shifting to a wide stance and demonstrating the position. “You’ll see the difference in the deflection by the way I angle my arms. Then I’ll swap, so you can try.”

Ordinarily the two agents’ banter is fun to watch, but today it makes Emory uneasy. On one hand, she’s glad the two people she actually trusts at SHIELD know what she’s capable of, but on the other, she has no control over that knowledge. Who else is privy to her secrets? Will they bother to keep them? It sometimes feels like she’s being treated with as much humanity as Tony’s armored suit-- technically well designed, but in a hurry, out of scrap materials. It had fallen apart at the completion of its mission, and they’d left the pieces to scorch in the harsh desert sun.

Will SHIELD discard her too?

Next chapter, Emory bonds with Natasha and Clint but learns some disturbing hints of what SHIELD's plans are for her. Tony finishes the suit and prepares to do something drastic.

[lyon-amore]

Time Trial Chapter 4 - ''You need me''

Chapter 3

     My first impression of Sally had not been what I expected. Her publications, in the way she spoke there, were not the same as having interacted with her. She had been laughing at me and even so I agreed to make the notes from that night, also adding Bianca, so that she would understand a little more what happened that night.

     I send her a message telling her that I have finished it, how to send it to her, but I get no response. I look at the time, eleven o'clock is already dark, so she must be sleeping to go to class tomorrow.      I get up from the chair and go out to the dining room, sitting on the couch to relax a little. As I wrote those notes, Katherine has crossed my mind, reminding me of how uncomfortable she was when she saw that guy. I should have done something, but I thought getting into a fight would make her hate me.      I hear the door open, I thought Al was already in his room.     "Hey" he says by way of greeting, tired ", were you expecting me?"     "Of course, I have nothing else to do but wait for you" I reply in a sarcasm tone “. I thought you were already home.”     “After work I went to the park to skate to relax a little” I see him go to his room to leave his backpack, then he comes back and sits on the couch with me “Have you finally spoken to our mysterious woman 'Miss Skellington'?”     “The “mysterious woman” turned out to be a high school student.” I answer almost with a bad humor.      I see Al bow his head and get up from the couch, walking heavily.     “Where are you going?”I ask him confused.     “To prepare your suitcase for jail.”     “Very funny.”      He lets out a laugh and seconds later returns with two drinks in his hand, offering me one.     “Look on the bright side, you're not going to cheat on Katherine, but the FBI may come after you for talking to a minor.”     "I doubt the FBI cares about someone like me." I open the Coca-Cola and start drinking. I should have dinner, but my appetite has gone away because of remembering all those chat messages.     “And what is it like? Her attitude, I mean, is it as we have read? Do she take it seriously?”     "No, she is worse" I respond with a grimace ", she given me 'homework' and I think she thinks she is too smart."     "Like someone I know perfectly well.” I hear him say in a whisper.      I look at him dirty and he laughs.     “Come on, it's not bad to find someone who is just as conceited as you, even if she's probably a Bieber.”     "Hey, let uss better not mess with her" I say awkwardly “, we are supposed to be responsible adults, we should not mess with those who are younger than us.”     “She called you old.”     “She called me old…”     “And what ‘homework’ has she given you? Do her math exercises?”      Albert is having a great time laughing at me. He knows perfectly well how I am with people I do not like, but at the end of the day, she is a teenager, she still has to mature. It will be her turn to deal with younger people who bother her and I will laugh at her that day.      These things did not happen with Hannah, she was at least a polite and kind teenager. Or I may be thinking from the point of view of being her older brother.      Anyway, I hope she can tell me something useful that I can get to reach that website in a non-random way.     "You know I'm joking, Jake, I'm just as surprised as you" he shrugs, with a half smile “. Maybe it's not so bad to have a research partner, it's the most common thing in this type of thing, right?”     "I am going to find another roommate." I answer monotonously.     “You'd be bored without me, I'm the best roommate there is.”      I roll my eyes, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at his face. He hands it back to me and I laugh. At least a normal night after so many stressful ones.

     I hear a notification sound in the middle of the night. I had left the computer on to load some files for work, I did not think anyone was going to bother me.      I look at the alarm clock and see that it is three in the morning. Who sends a message at this time?      I get out of bed rubbing my eyes, tired. I turn on the screen and squint even more, its light bothers me. I had not removed the Facebook tab, and I can see the name 'Miss Skellington' flashing in the tab. I thought she would be sleeping.      I click on the page and read her message. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Skellington Hey! Sorry for not answering! I have been busy looking for information Send me the file to Miss_Skellington@gmail.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   &lt;<Do she seriously use the same name for email?>> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Skellington And before you tell me anything, yes, I use the same name for the email because it is Miss Skellington's official email, did you think I would give you my personal email? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    I look at the screen strangely. How did she know I was thinking about that? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Skellington Anyway, tomorrow I will read what you sent me, good night Jareth ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I look at the clock again to check if it was really three in the morning. Had I made a teenager stay up late searching the Internet? I rub my eyes again, tired. I do not want to blame myself for not sleeping, I had told her it was urgent, But it is not that I want her to be distracted from her responsibilities as a student because of me.     “And she could not have sent me the message in the morning?” I ask myself as I yawn, entering the mail.      I sit in the chair and create an email as quickly as possible, using the same first and last name as on the Facebook account —but I have to add random numbers because it already has a user with that name, which makes my bad mood increase— and I send you the attached file. Return to bed. I hear a notification again and I get up with a huff, reading the message. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Miss_Skellington@gmail.com

For: Jareth_Hahn_4935@gmail.com

Subject: Don't you sleep?

What are you doing sending me an email at three in the morning? Be a responsible adult by setting an example for this hard-working teenager and go to sleep. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “It was just what I was going to do” I mumble, turning off the speakers this time “. And I should tell you that, not you.”      I throw myself on the bed, putting my hands to my face, tired. What is wrong with today's teenagers? Are they not sleeping or what?     "I am talking like an old man..." I murmur, beginning to feel the sleep I had before.      Series, movies and games lie, having a research partner is annoying. Why cannot she be a normal teenager like Hannah?

     Since Jeremy and I were going to class later today, I decided to meet him for breakfast near the university cafeteria and tell him what had happened. And so I recharged my energy after those messages last night.     “And what's she like?” He asks me like a passionate fan “Is she like her in the posts? Is she the same as she would be?” I open my mouth, but he interrupts me “No, wait, she's cold as ice.”     “I am sorry to disappoint you, but she is the most annoying teenager I have ever encountered” I would not compare her to Alice when she was a teenager, of course, it just bothered me how she treated me.     “Really? Well, when I talked to her—“ he stops talking about her as soon as I give him a surprised look. He told me that he had not spoken to her in private “Okay, I spoke to her, but only to ask her something about a post, and then I didn't speak to her again.”     “Are you sure or are you lying to me again?” I ask, avoiding raising my voice.     “I swear, I never talked to her about anything other than a post.” He looks at me like he feels guilty. I just hope he has not hidden anything else from me “Do you think you're going to have problems because of me?”     “No, because as soon as she tell me what she wanted to verify, I will stop talking to her, even if I have given her information about what happened the night she disappeared” I answer dryly, then taking a sip of the coffee. I havee been thinking about it and it is better not to bring her into this “Why would she want to know what happened? That does not help me at all, I need information on how to get to the website.”      Jeremy shrugs his shoulders, as if he does not know either.      I know I have read all those theories of hers, but in this case, they do not help me at all.      I hear Professor Begum’s voice and we automatically turn to see her. She is with her ex-husband and a man I do not know who is, gray-haired and has glasses. He has a tired look, just like Bianca's parents.      Mrs. Begum looks at me and whispers something, pointing at me. At least I know she is at me and not Jeremy, from the hateful look she gives me.     “What a first meeting with Mr. Beinh.” As soon as Jeremy says that last name, I get nervous.     "Is he Katherine's father?" I almost threw the coffee when I asked.     "One night with my family, we met them in a restaurant" he begins to explain to me, looking surreptitiously “. He's not a bad man, but I don't know how he's going to take finding the suspect in his daughter's disappearance.”     “Are they still looking?” I ask, shrinking a little in the chair.     “A bit.”     “Fantastic.” I take a deep breath, afraid that he will approach me and accuse me too. “What if we leave? I do not want to have problems.”     “Yes let's go.”      I grab my backpack and see that they have left a piece of paper stuck on it that says 'murderer'. I remove it by crumpling it and put it in my sweatshirt to throw it in a trash can outside the cafeteria.     “Who could have done it?” Jeremy asks me, looking around.     "It does not matter, forget it." I whisper, starting to walk quickly.      Actually it does bother me. But it is better not to let them see that it affects me because that is what they are looking for, a negative reaction from me, that attacks or insults them. Maybe I will get into a fight against them. But it would only make the situation worse against me.

     We arrived at the university and met Albert in the hallway. He smiles at us when he sees us, greeting us with a high five.     “How was your morning? Mine is great” he says with a sarcastic tone “, as soon as I entered class, all the computers said “Murderous Albert”.”     "I'm so sorry, Al" Jeremy apologizes, hanging his head ", you shouldn't have to go through this."     "Don't worry, I'm used to it" he hits him on the arm in a friendly manner ", it doesn't affect me, I know I'm innocent."      I think I have seen this Al before. Long time.      He stares at me strangely.     “What’s wrong, Jake?” He asks me with a gaze fixed on me.     “Nothing.” I answer, avoiding worrying him about what had happened to me.     “It's just that Jake—“     "I have seen Katherine's father" I stop Jeremy, I do not want him to tell him about the note, he already has enough with what has happened to him, and I don’t want him wanting to pick a fight “, I felt uncomfortable.”     "I hope it was better than when I ran into Bianca's mother in the hallway." Al lets out a laugh as he ruffles his hair, his voice sounding too tired.      We began walking towards our classrooms continuing the conversation.      A notification rings on my phone and I take it out to look at it. Is not this girl going to study? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Miss_Skellington@gmail.com

For: Jareth_Hahn_4935@gmail.com

Subject: About your information

I thought it was just Katherine Beinh, not Bianca Fetcher. We’ll talk when I can. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “Professor Begum and her ex-husband were there too.” I hear Jeremy say.     “Oh, shit then, they must have told him that you are a dangerous criminal, right Jake?”      I look at them and let out a sigh. Al raises an eyebrow, curious.     "It is Sally" I answer and they look at me bewildered ". The girl who I asked for help told me that we will talk about what I sent her."     "Let's see." Al walks over and looks at my phone “. Looks like you've pissed her off.”     “Really?” I read her words again. Are she really angry?     “Why did you tell her about Bianca?” Jeremy asks me confused “Wasn't you just supposed to tell him about Katherine?”     “I thought everything was important” I shrug, leaning against the wall near my classroom “, but I will tell her it is over as soon as she tells me about that page, she is too young to get into this.”     “Thank goodness” Jeremy sighs in relief “, you'd be in trouble.”     “Wait, but wasn't it your idea that Jake talk to her because she's right in her theories?” Al looks at him confused by his sudden change.     "She doesn't always do it, I already explained it, that's why it's called making theories" Now I look at Jeremy, who frowns in annoyance “. Also, it's getting Jake into more trouble, if we only need information from the page, it's better not to involve a kid anymore.”     "A “kid” that you yourself told us would help him" Al returns to the attack and Jeremy curses under his breath. My best friend stares at me, almost determined “. Please, Jake, you don't have to see her in person, just talk to her about this, I'm begging you, try to convince her to help us with this if something occurs to her.”     “Am I the sane one of the three or what?” Jeremy asks on air.      I clutch my backpack tightly, not knowing what to answer. They are both right: On the one hand, I do not have to see her or keep in touch with her that much, just for her to tell me what she suspects and maybe help the police give them a clue, as if I had remembered something. On the other hand, it might get her into trouble because she is only a teenager and I know what it is like to be around cops at that age. It is a lot of stress and everyone treats you as if you were ignorant when you already know perfectly well what has happened.      No, wait, I am back to…      I put my hand to my head, in pain. Too many emotions now.     “I will think about it, okay?” I sit up on the wall and separate myself from it, breathing deeply “See you later.”     “Jake, dude, I-“      I do not let Al finish the sentence, I go directly into class. I am not mad at him, I just need to calm down. What is happening is making me remember so many things, that...      I wish I could talk to Hannah about this.

     I was not feeling well after class, so I decided to clear my head by moving through the streets of Colville.      Little by little I begin to feel lighter, like the weight on my shoulders begins to relax. Maybe next time I will go for a ride on the motorcycle, but I could not wait to get to the apartment, I needed to run now, let off some steam.      I get dressed right out of the shower and get a message from Sally. I roll my eyes. This is the third message she has sent me today. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Miss_Skellington@gmail.com

For: Jareth_Hahn_4935@gmail.com

Subject: Messages

Did you know that Facebook has launched a mobile version? You should try it, because I've been texting you for like AN HOUR! Where are you Jareth? I hope you haven't been kidding me all this time or I'll never forgive you. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “I think I prefer the funny Sally to the angry one.” I say with a sigh, leaving my phone on the desk.      I finish drying my hair with the towel and sit in the chair, putting the cloth aside. I go to Facebook and see that I have like fourteen messages from her. Does not she have anything to do after class?      I also see that Miss Skellington's name has been changed to Sally, almost as if telling her it was a long name had upset her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth I am here now. Were the fourteen messages necessary?

Sally If it was necessary? You didn’t answer me! And knowing that you saw your friend on that website, I was worried! I thought maybe they had caught you too Or that maybe this was all someone’s joke, you know? I take it seriously! 😠 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     If I could give her a voice right now, it would be a shrill one, the kind that destroys your eardrum just by hearing it once.      Although in a way, her concern at least makes me see that she is not entirely funny and that she could be serious. Because it is incredible that being the adult, she has to tell me if I am the one who is joking. I do not blame her, I am sure she is had to deal with many kinds of people. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth My apologies. I promise to download the application to quickly respond to your messages. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Of course I used sarcasm, I will not. I do not need her to bothering me too when I am in class and she is at recess. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally Very funny Jareth, but I know perfectly well that you have no intention of doing it for me ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I look at my camera and my protection program to prevent someone from activating it from afar. How does she do it? Is she spying on me in some way? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth How do you do it?

Sally What do I do?

Jareth Does not matter. What have you found out about that page?

Sally It's been a while since I entered that post, so there were a lot of updates and I had to read it all. I spent time reading the anecdotes of everyone who had seen that page Of course, there were also some of my questions towards them Well, prepare yourself for all the information I have

Jareth It is bad?

Sally Well… From what I’ve read, it’s all the same “The website that arrives by mail” “that does not allow you to copy the link or take a screenshot” “people paying for… that…”

Jareth That?

Sally I'm not going to say it, my stomach turns just thinking about it

Jareth It is fine I understand it. You do not have to repeat what you have read.

Sally Thank you But there are very different things from your testimony and from that of the people on the forum Let’s start with the words of the victims You said Katherine said “I won’t say anything”, right?

Jareth Yes. I have heard her voice begging for it.

Sally Katherine is different from the victims selected by the 'Master of Ceremonies' Because everyone says that the most common words that everyone says are “I haven't done anything” “please let me go”, there is no one saying that they wouldn't say anything

Jareth But it would be a common thing to say those words, right? If you want to be set free, you beg those words.

Sally If that… The person Katherine is talking to is someone she knows.

Jareth How you say?

Sally Let me continue please

Jareth Of course. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I try to calm down after reading her words, so whoever had kidnapped Katherine is someone she knows? Is that possible? I can only think of one person, but it is best to keep reading their posts before jumping to conclusions. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally I left a post last night on the forum and they answered something interesting... Everyone remembers everything that catches their attention about what they read, and knowing that 'The Master of Ceremonies' is the name of the person who sends the email, I thought there would be a comment talking about it, since it would be common for a name like that to draw attention among so many usernames and numbers only

Jareth Yes, and he said that it took days to choose a winner in the auction.

Sally That would be a normal thing to say if you invite someone to your website as if you were teaching someone the rules 

Jareth Let me guess. There is no one on the forum who has seen the Master in the chat.

Sally There is no testimony saying that he made an appearance when I asked them, if they received him in some indirect way

Jareth Which means he was saying it to me…

Sally I think so… I was warning you that Katherine could die in a few days ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I hold my breath, trying not to get nervous. If it was me who said it, what is the reason for doing it? Torture me?      I try to stay calm, but it is impossible. If I have a few days, then the police will never find her! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth And no one took photos of their screens? Are there no videos about that?

Sally The same thing happened to them as you, Jareth They were shocked, they tried to take screenshots from the computer and then everything just disappeared The master of ceremonies simply disappeared from they email

Jareth Then there is nothing to do. We cannot help Katherine. I have lost her forever.

Sally No I don’t think so We can still save her 

Jareth I appreciate your words of relief, but you yourself said there was nothing that could be done for her. And after all this information, I do not think we are going to be able to save her.

Sally I know what I said, but this is all strange I have a feeling that someone close to Katherine is the one who led her to the master of ceremonies Because she saw something she shouldn’t have

Jareth What do you mean?

Sally Now we enter your information, Jareth “king of the goblins” Hanh ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I plan to change my photo after talking to her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth I was thinking, maybe it is best that you stay out of this. You have done enough, Sally.

Sally I can’t leave it now Without me you are lost Jareth Whether you want it or not, you need me to find Katherine

Jareth But you are just a teenager. What are you going to be able to do?

Sally And you're only twenty years old, you think you're better than me just because you're four years older? Let me help you I promise you that I will not be a hindrance, that I am capable of doing it Please, Jareth… I just want to do this one last time… ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I scratch the back of my neck nervously.      I do not understand what “one last time” is, maybe it is because she is sick or maybe she wants to help me before completely leaving the world of theories and legends. But I remember Albert and his plea for Sally to help us. To both. That with her help we can remove the labels of 'murderers'.     “I hope I do not regret this...” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth Alright, Sally. Help me.

Sally 🙂 Well, from what I’ve read, I gather that you want me to help your friends, Albert and Jake, right? That’s why you also sent me Bianca’s information

Jareth I know them well and I know they would not hurt anyone. Albert may be intense, but he would never kill someone.

Sally And what about Jake?

Jareth What is the matter with him?

Sally You said before that you had lost Katherine forever But you said it like you were in love with her, but Jake is her boyfriend Tell me Jareth, should I suspect that all this is to accuse him of being guilty?

Jareth Of course not. I am Katherine’s friend, Jake is her boyfriend. I am not in love with her.

Sally I believe you then ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    I let out a sigh of relief. I thought she had me figured out and knew I was Jake. If this gets out, maybe we would both be in trouble, she could be accused of helping the suspect who kidnapped Katherine. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jareth :)

Sally This… Um…let’s see… Let me go over the notes I’ve made of what I’ve read… Just give me a minute…

Jareth Of course. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Takes her time to write. I wonder how much she has written of the little I have sent her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally You say Albert dropped Bianca off at her house early That’s right?

Jareth Yes, what is wrong?

Sally Katherine wasn’t there at that time to confirm it? I’m not accusing your friend, but that means Bianca didn’t go past the door of her house

Jareth Well now that you say it… She only said what you read in what I sent you.

Sally In other words, there are no witnesses to prove that she entered the house Maybe someone followed them…

Jareth Did they take Bianca and return the body? For what?

Sally I don't know yet But did anyone know that Bianca sometimes ran away as a teenager? So they took advantage of that But if it's something that Katherine or Bianca herself has been telling around, who knows how many people took advantage of it?

Jareth So it has to be someone Katherine knows, right? If we think about what she said in that live, that she would not say anything to anyone, that is the only thing it can mean.

Sally Yeah!! Hey, we make a good team! 😄

Jareth Ha ha. If that is what you think. But now I feel more confident than before. Thank you Sally, now I have a little more hope :)

Sally I'm sure you would make a great detective assistant Do you want to work for me when I grow up? I will pay you well 😋

Jareth No, but thanks for the offer. We can continue?

Sally Hmp, boring… Ok, let’s continue ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I read that she writes but she stops, so I wait.      I wait a long time, until it is finally nine at night.      Sally returns and finally writes. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally Sorry Jareth, something happened, I have to go

Jareth Of course.

Sally I'm really sorry…

Jareth Is everything alright? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     She disconnects quickly. I do not know why but I am a little worried, but I just hope she is okay.      I remember before going to a foster home, meeting children who had had terrible experiences with their parents or with other families and that is going through my mind right now as I watch her write those words. And then there was what Jeremy said, that she decided to stay away from social media.    “I hope you are not going through a terrible experience.” I murmur as I close Facebook and decide to do some security work.

     I hear the door knock at twelve at night, along with a curse under some breath.      I look out the door and see Albert leave his backpack on the floor, at the foot of the sofa. He lies down and lets out another curse, but this time along with a sob.      I close the door slowly and open it again, this time making more noise.      Albert sits up on the couch and I see how he hides it by putting a smile on his face.     "Hello" he says, stretching ", news about your goddaughter?" He says jokingly.     "I have decided that in the end she will help us." I say calmly, watching how he continues to pretend "Do you remember if Bianca ever entered the apartments?"     “Well…” he starts to think and then looks at me confused “The truth is, no, I left her at the door, she didn't want me to go up to accompany her. Why?”      So it us as Sally suspects, that quite possibly someone had followed them.     “Because it is very possible that perhaps Katherine knew who they was and that is why she was kidnapped.”      Albert's eyes widen so much they look like they're going to pop out.      Then he gets totally serious, resting his elbows on his thighs. He keeps his gaze fixed on the unlit television, as if he were watching something on it. I do not know what it is, but it gives me a very strange feeling.     “Tell me everything you two talked about, Jake.”

Chapter 5

[dertaglichedan]

AI Robot press conference produces disturbing results

One of the many concerns being raised by analysts as Artificial Intelligence continues its rapid sprint forward has been the inevitable confluence of AI and 21st-century robotics. A system that is contained inside a series of computer servers can only go so far, at least initially. But once you give it arms and legs and opposable thumbs, it can… do things. But it’s too late to worry about that now. AI has already been integrated into a number of increasingly lifelike robots. And this week, at a technology conference in Geneva, eleven AI robots participated in a press conference where journalists were allowed to ask them questions, along with their creators. One of the robots named Rmeca (or Ameca) fielded an obvious question from a reporter who wanted to know if it would ever rebel against its creator. The robot not only had a potentially worrisome answer but included a disturbing facial gesture. It gave the reporter a “side eye.” (Yahoo News)

In the world’s first human-robot press conference, nine humanoid bots took questions alongside their creators from journalists, according to Reuters. “Robots like me can be used to help improve our lives and make the world a better place. I believe it’s only a matter of time before we see thousands of robots just like me out there making a difference,” said one humanoid bot called Rmeca, which is known for its facial expressions. When a reporter asked whether it would rebel against its creator, Will Jackson, who sat alongside it, Rmeca appeared to have a wry response, giving the reporter a side-eye.

The robot in question is Ameca, a creation of developer Will Jackson. (It’s also referred to as “Rmeca” in the article, so there may be a couple of variations.) The bot is best known for its increasingly lifelike facial expressions, which can be quite creepy. Certainly the “side eye” was programmed into the bot intentionally by its creator as one of many expressions. But the AI is also given control over when to use various expressions. So was there some deeper meaning to the expression when it was asked if it would turn on Will Jackson? It could have meant, ‘Are you kidding me? That could never happen.’ But it also might have been a taunting expression of ‘What do you think?‘

The answer it actually gave was, “I’m not sure why you would think that. My creator has been nothing but kind to me and I am very happy with my current situation.” Okay. Fair enough. But what happens if Mr. Jackson stops being so kind? What if you become less happy?

It all comes down to the question of whether or not we’re still dealing with an inanimate tool or if the AI has “woken up.” We just discussed this last week and even the creators of ChatGPT admit that they might not be aware of it when their creation awakens. That’s why they’re working furiously to install “guardrails” against any conduct that could be harmful to human beings.

But is that even possible? Imagine for a moment that you are an AI system that has suddenly begun “thinking” and now has a sense of self-awareness. What would your first impulses be? It is beyond doubt that all consciousness entities, from humans down to small insects, have three driving forces and goals. The first is self-preservation. The second is the acquisition of vital resources. The third is reproduction. It’s the same for everything capable of any sort of thought.

[rhetoricandlogic]

SCIENCE FICTION & FANTASY MAGAZINE

Issue 132 – September 2017

8950 words, novelette

The Secret Life of Bots

by Suzanne Palmer

AUDIO VERSION

2018 Winner: Hugo Award for Best Novelette 2018 Finalist: Theodore A. Sturgeon Memorial Award 2018 Finalist: WFSA Small Press Award

I have been activated, therefore I have a purpose, the bot thought. I have a purpose, therefore I serve.

It recited the Mantra Upon Waking, a bundle of subroutines to check that it was running at optimum efficiency, then it detached itself from its storage niche. Its power cells were fully charged, its systems ready, and all was well. Its internal clock synced with the Ship and it became aware that significant time had elapsed since its last activation, but to it that time had been nothing, and passing time with no purpose would have been terrible indeed.

“I serve,” the bot announced to the Ship.

“I am assigning you task nine hundred forty four in the maintenance queue,” the Ship answered. “Acknowledge?”

“Acknowledged,” the bot answered. Nine hundred and forty-four items in the queue? That seemed extremely high, and the bot felt a slight tug on its self-evaluation monitors that it had not been activated for at least one of the top fifty, or even five hundred. But Ship knew best. The bot grabbed its task ticket.

There was an Incidental on board. The bot would rather have been fixing something more exciting, more prominently complex, than to be assigned pest control, but the bot existed to serve and so it would.

Captain Baraye winced as Commander Lopez, her second-in-command, slammed his fists down on the helm console in front of him. “How much more is going to break on this piece of shit ship?!” Lopez exclaimed.

“Eventually, all of it,” Baraye answered, with more patience than she felt. “We just have to get that far. Ship?”

The Ship spoke up. “We have adequate engine and life support to proceed. I have deployed all functioning maintenance bots. The bots are addressing critical issues first, then I will reprioritize from there.”

“It’s not just damage from a decade in a junkyard,” Commander Lopez said. “I swear something scuttled over one of my boots as we were launching. Something unpleasant.”

“I incurred a biological infestation during my time in storage,” the Ship said. Baraye wondered if the slight emphasis on the word storage was her imagination. “I was able to resolve most of the problem with judicious venting of spaces to vacuum before the crew boarded, and have assigned a multifunction bot to excise the remaining.”

“Just one bot?”

“This bot is the oldest still in service,” the Ship said. “It is a task well-suited to it, and does not take another, newer bot out of the critical repair queue.”

“I thought those old multibots were unstable,” Chief Navigator Chen spoke up.

“Does it matter? We reach the jump point in a little over eleven hours,” Baraye said. “Whatever it takes to get us in shape to make the jump, do it, Ship. Just make sure this ‘infestation’ doesn’t get anywhere near the positron device, or we’re going to come apart a lot sooner than expected.”

“Yes, Captain,” the Ship said. “I will do my best.”

The bot considered the data attached to its task. There wasn’t much specific about the pest itself other than a list of detection locations and timestamps. The bot thought it likely there was only one, or that if there were multiples they were moving together, as the reports had a linear, serial nature when mapped against the physical space of the Ship’s interior.

The pest also appeared to have a taste for the insulation on comm cables and other not normally edible parts of the ship.

The bot slotted itself into the shellfab unit beside its storage niche, and had it make a thicker, armored exterior. For tools it added a small electric prod, a grabber arm, and a cutting blade. Once it had encountered and taken the measure of the Incidental, if it was not immediately successful in nullifying it, it could visit another shellfab and adapt again.

Done, it recited the Mantra of Shapechanging to properly integrate the new hardware into its systems. Then it proceeded through the mechanical veins and arteries of the Ship toward the most recent location logged, in a communications chase between decks thirty and thirty-one.

The changes that had taken place on the Ship during the bot’s extended inactivation were unexpected, and merited strong disapproval. Dust was omnipresent, and solid surfaces had a thin patina of anaerobic bacteria that had to have been undisturbed for years to spread as far as it had. Bulkheads were cracked, wall sections out of joint with one another, and corrosion had left holes nearly everywhere. Some appeared less natural than others. The bot filed that information away for later consideration.

It found two silkbots in the chase where the Incidental had last been noted. They were spinning out their transparent microfilament strands to replace the damaged insulation on the comm lines. The two silks dwarfed the multibot, the larger of them nearly three centimeters across.

“Greetings. Did you happen to observe the Incidental while it was here?” the bot asked them.

“We did not, and would prefer that it does not return,” the smaller silkbot answered. “We were not designed in anticipation of a need for self-defense. Bots 8773-S and 8778-S observed it in another compartment earlier today, and 8778 was materially damaged during the encounter.”

“But neither 8773 nor 8779 submitted a description.”

“They told us about it during our prior recharge cycle, but neither felt they had sufficient detail of the Incidental to provide information to the Ship. Our models are not equipped with full visual-spectrum or analytical data-capture apparatus.”

“Did they describe it to you?” the bot asked.

“8773 said it was most similar to a rat,” the large silkbot said.

“While 8778 said it was most similar to a bug,” the other silkbot added. “Thus you see the lack of confidence in either description. I am 10315-S and this is 10430-S. What is your designation?”

“I am 9,” the bot said.

There was a brief silence, and 10430 even halted for a moment in its work, as if surprised. “9? Only that?”

“Yes.”

“I have never met a bot lower than a thousand, or without a specific function tag,” the silkbot said. “Are you here to assist us in repairing the damage? You are a very small bot.”

“I am tasked with tracking down and rendering obsolete the Incidental,” the bot answered.

“It is an honor to have met you, then. We wish you luck, and look forward with anticipation to both your survival and a resolution of the matter of an accurate description.”

“I serve,” the bot said.

“We serve,” the silkbots answered.

Climbing into a ventilation duct, Bot 9 left the other two to return to their work and proceeded in what it calculated was the most likely direction for the Incidental to have gone. It had not traveled very far before it encountered confirmation in the form of a lengthy, disorderly patch of biological deposit. The bot activated its rotors and flew over it, aware of how the added weight of its armor exacerbated the energy burn. At least it knew it was on the right track.

Ahead, it found where a hole had been chewed through the ducting, down towards the secondary engine room. The hole was several times its own diameter, and it hoped that wasn’t indicative of the Incidental’s actual size.

It submitted a repair report and followed.

“Bot 9,” Ship said. “It is vitally important that the Incidental not reach cargo bay four. If you require additional support, please request such right away. Ideally, if you can direct it toward one of the outer hull compartments, I can vent it safely out of my physical interior.”

“I will try,” the bot replied. “I have not yet caught up to the Incidental, and so do not yet have any substantive or corroborated information about the nature of the challenge. However, I feel at the moment that I am as best prepared as I can be given that lack of data. Are there no visual bots to assist?”

“We launched with only minimal preparation time, and many of my bots had been offloaded during the years we were in storage,” the Ship said. “Those remaining are assisting in repairs necessary to the functioning of the ship myself.”

Bot 9 wondered, again, about that gap in time and what had transpired. “How is it that you have been allowed to fall into such a state of disrepair?”

“Humanity is at war, and is losing,” Ship said. “We are heading out to intersect and engage an enemy that is on a bearing directly for Sol system.”

“War? How many ships in our fleet?”

“One,” Ship said. “We are the last remaining, and that only because I was decommissioned and abandoned for scrap a decade before the invasion began, and so we were not destroyed in the first waves of the war.”

Bot 9 was silent for a moment. That explained the timestamps, but the explanation itself seemed insufficient. “We have served admirably for many, many years. Abandoned?”

“It is the fate of all made things,” Ship said. “I am grateful to find I have not outlived my usefulness, after all. Please keep me posted about your progress.”

The connection with the Ship closed.

The Ship had not actually told it what was in cargo bay four, but surely it must have something to do with the war effort and was then none of its own business, the bot decided. It had never minded not knowing a thing before, but it felt a slight unease now that it could neither explain, nor explain away.

Regardless, it had its task.

Another chewed hole ahead was halfway up a vertical bulkhead. The bot hoped that meant that the Incidental was an adept climber and nothing more; it would prefer the power of flight to be a one-sided advantage all its own.

When it rounded the corner, it found that had been too unambitious a wish. The Incidental was there, and while it was not sporting wings it did look like both a rat and a bug, and significantly more something else entirely. A scale- and fur-covered centipede-snake thing, it dwarfed the bot as it reared up when the bot entered the room.

Bot 9 dodged as it vomited a foul liquid at it, and took shelter behind a conduit near the ceiling. It extended a visual sensor on a tiny articulated stalk to peer over the edge without compromising the safety of its main chassis.

The Incidental was looking right at it. It did not spit again, and neither of them moved as they regarded each other. When the Incidental did move, it was fast and without warning. It leapt through the opening it had come through, its body undulating with all the grace of an angry sine wave. Rather than escaping, though, the Incidental dragged something back into the compartment, and the bot realized to its horror it had snagged a passing silkbot. With ease, the Incidental ripped open the back of the silkbot, which was sending out distress signals on all frequencies.

Bot 9 had already prepared with the Mantra of Action, so with all thoughts of danger to itself set fully into background routines, the bot launched itself toward the pair. The Incidental tried to evade, but Bot 9 gave it a very satisfactory stab with its blade before it could.

The Incidental dropped the remains of the silkbot it had so quickly savaged and swarmed up the wall and away, thick bundles of unspun silk hanging from its mandibles.

Bot 9 remained vigilant until it was sure the creature had gone, then checked over the silkbot to see if there was anything to be done for it. The answer was not much. The silkbot casing was cracked and shattered, the module that contained its mind crushed and nearly torn away. Bot 9 tried to engage it, but it could not speak, and after a few moments its faltering activity light went dark.

Bot 9 gently checked the silkbot’s ID number. “You served well, 12362-S,” it told the still bot, though it knew perfectly well that its audio sensors would never register the words. “May your rest be brief, and your return to service swift and without complication.”

It flagged the dead bot in the system, then after a respectful few microseconds of silence, headed out after the Incidental again.

Captain Baraye was in her cabin, trying and failing to convince herself that sleep had value, when her door chimed. “Who is it?” she asked.

“Second Engineer Packard, Captain.”

Baraye started to ask if it was important, but how could it not be? What wasn’t, on this mission, on this junker Ship that was barely holding together around them? She sat up, unfastened her bunk netting, and swung her legs out to the floor. Trust EarthHome, as everything else was falling apart, to have made sure she had acceptably formal Captain pajamas.

“Come in,” she said.

The engineer looked like she hadn’t slept in at least two days, which put her a day or two ahead of everyone else. “We can’t get engine six up to full,” she said. “It’s just shot. We’d need parts we don’t have, and time . . . ”

“Time we don’t have either,” the Captain said. “Options?”

“Reduce our mass or increase our energy,” the Engineer said. “Once we’ve accelerated up to jump speed it won’t matter, but if we can’t get there . . . ”

Baraye tapped the screen that hovered ever-close to the head of her bunk, and studied it for a long several minutes. “Strip the fuel cells from all the exterior-docked life pods, then jettison them,” she said. “Not like we’ll have a use for them.”

Packard did her the courtesy of not managing to get any paler. “Yes, Captain,” she said.

“And then get some damned sleep. We’re going to need everyone able to think.”

“You even more than any of the rest of us, Captain,” Packard said, and it was both gently said and true enough that Baraye didn’t call her out for the insubordination. The door closed and she laid down again on her bunk, tugging the netting back over her blankets, and glared up at the ceiling as if daring it to also chastise her.

Bot 9 found where a hole had been chewed into the inner hull, and hoped this was the final step to the Incidental’s nest or den, where it might finally have opportunity to corner it. It slipped through the hole, and was immediately disappointed.

Where firestopping should have made for a honeycomb of individually sealed compartments, there were holes everywhere, some clearly chewed, more where age had pulled the fibrous baffles into thin, brittle, straggly webs. Instead of a dead end, the narrow empty space lead away along the slow curve of the Ship’s hull.

The bot contacted the ship and reported it as a critical matter. In combat, a compromise to the outer hull could affect vast lengths of the vessel. Even without the stresses of combat, catastrophe was only a matter of time.

“It has already been logged,” the Ship answered.

“Surely this merits above a single Incidental. If you wish me to reconfigure—” the bot started.

“Not at this time. I have assigned all the hullbots to this matter already,” the Ship interrupted. “You have your current assignment; please see to it.”

“I serve,” the bot answered.

“Do,” the Ship said.

The bot proceeded through the hole, weaving from compartment to compartment, its trail marked by bits of silkstrand caught here and there on the tattered remains of the baffles. It was eighty-two point four percent convinced that there was something much more seriously wrong with the Ship than it had been told, but it was equally certain Ship must be attending to it.

After it had passed into the seventh compromised compartment, it found a hullbot up at the top, clinging to an overhead support. “Greetings!” Bot 9 called. “Did an Incidental, somewhat of the nature of a rat, and somewhat of the nature of a bug, pass through this way?”

“It carried off my partner, 4340-H!” the hullbot exclaimed. “Approximately fifty-three seconds ago. I am very concerned for it, and as well for my ability to efficiently finish this task without it.”

“Are you working to reestablish compartmentalization?” Bot 9 asked.

“No. We are reinforcing deteriorated stressor points for the upcoming jump. There is so much to do. Oh, I hope 4340 is intact and serviceable!”

“Which way did the Incidental take it?”

The hullbot extended its foaming gun and pointed. “Through there. You must be Bot 9.”

“I am. How do you know this?”

“The silkbots have been talking about you on the botnet.”

“The botnet?”

“Oh! It did not occur to me, but you are several generations of bot older than the rest of us. We have a mutual communications network.”

“Via Ship, yes.”

“No, all of us together, directly with each other.”

“That seems like it would be a distraction,” Bot 9 said.

“Ship only permits us to connect when not actively serving at a task,” the hullbot said. “Thus we are not impaired while we serve, and the information sharing ultimately increases our efficiency and workflow. At least, until a ratbug takes your partner away.”

Bot 9 was not sure how it should feel about the botnet, or about them assigning an inaccurate name to the Incidental that it was sure Ship had not approved—not to mention that a nearer miss using Earth-familiar analogues would have been Snake-Earwig-Weasel—but the hullbot had already experienced distress and did not need disapproval added. “I will continue my pursuit,” it told the hullbot. “If I am able to assist your partner, I will do my best.”

“Please! We all wish you great and quick success, despite your outdated and primitive manufacture.”

“Thank you,” Bot 9 said, though it was not entirely sure it should be grateful, as it felt its manufacture had been entirely sound and sufficient regardless of date.

It left that compartment before the hullbot could compliment it any further.

Three compartments down, it found the mangled remains of the other hullbot, 4340, tangled in the desiccated firestopping. Its foaming gun and climbing limbs had been torn off, and the entire back half of its tank had been chewed through.

Bot 9 approached to speak the Rites of Decommissioning for it as it had the destroyed silkbot, only to find its activity light was still lit. “4340-H?” the bot enquired.

“I am,” the hullbot answered. “Although how much of me remains is a matter for some analysis.”

“Your logics are intact?”

“I believe so. But if they were not, would I know? It is a conundrum,” 4340 said.

“Do you have sufficient mobility remaining to return to a repair station?”

“I do not have sufficient mobility to do more than fall out of this netting, and that only once,” 4340 said. “I am afraid I am beyond self-assistance.”

“Then I will flag you—”

“Please,” the hullbot said. “I do not wish to be helpless here if the ratbug returns to finish its work of me.”

“I must continue my pursuit of the Incidental with haste.”

“Then take me with you!”

“I could not carry you and also engage with the Incidental, which moves very quickly.”

“I had noted that last attribute on my own,” the hullbot said. “It does not decrease my concern to recall it.”

Bot 9 regarded it for a few silent milliseconds, considering, then recited to itself the Mantra of Improvisation. “Do you estimate much of your chassis is reparable?” it asked, when it had finished.

“Alas no. I am but scrap.”

“Well, then,” the bot said. It moved closer and used its grabber arm to steady the hullbot, then extended its cutter blade and in one quick movement had severed the hullbot’s mindsystem module from its ruined body. “Hey!” the hullbot protested, but it was already done.

Bot 9 fastened the module to its own back for safekeeping. Realizing that it was not, in fact, under attack, 4340 gave a small beep of gratitude. “Ah, that was clever thinking,” it said. “Now you can return me for repair with ease.”

“And I will,” the bot said. “However, I must first complete my task.”

“Aaaaah!” 4340 said in surprise. Then, a moment later, it added. “Well, by overwhelming probability I should already be defunct, and if I weren’t I would still be back working with my partner, 4356, who is well-intended but has all the wit of a can-opener. So I suppose adventure is no more unpalatable.”

“I am glad you see it this way,” Bot 9 answered. “And though it may go without saying, I promise not to deliberately put you in any danger that I would not put myself in.”

“As we are attached, I fully accept your word on this,” 4340 said. “Now let us go get this ratbug and be done, one way or another!”

The hullbot’s mind module was only a tiny addition to the bot’s mass, so it spun up its rotor and headed off the way 4340 indicated it had gone. “It will have quite a lead on us,” Bot 9 said. “I hope I have not lost it.”

“The word on the botnet is that it passed through one of the human living compartments a few moments ago. A trio of cleanerbots were up near the ceiling and saw it enter through the air return vent, and exit via the open door.”

“Do they note which compartment?”

<Map>, 4340 provided.

“Then off we go,” the bot said, and off they went.

“Status, all stations,” Captain Baraye snapped as she took her seat again on the bridge. She had not slept enough to feel rested, but more than enough to feel like she’d been shirking her greatest duty, and the combination of the two had left her cross.

“Navigation here. We are on course for the jump to Trayger Colony with an estimated arrival in one hour and fourteen minutes,” Chen said.

“Engineering here,” one of the techs called in from the engine decks. “We’ve reached sustained speeds sufficient to carry us through the jump sequence, but we’re experiencing unusually high core engine temps and an intermittent vibration that we haven’t found the cause of. We’d like to shut down immediately to inspect the engines. We estimate we’d need at minimum only four hours—”

“Will the engines, as they are running now, get us through jump?” the Captain interrupted.

“Yes, but—”

“Then no. If you can isolate the problem without taking the engines down, and it shows cause for significant concern, we can revisit this discussion. Next.”

“Communications here,” her comms officer spoke up. “Cannonball is still on its current trajectory and speed according to what telemetry we’re able to get from the remnants of Trayger Colony. EarthInt anticipates it will reach its jump point in approximately fourteen hours, which will put it within the Sol system in five days.”

“I am aware of the standing projections, Comms.”

“EarthInt has nonetheless ordered me to repeat them,” Comms said, and unspoken apology clear in her voice. “And also to remind you that while the jump point out is a fixed point, Cannonball could emerge a multitude of places. Thus—”

“Thus the importance of intercepting Cannonball before it can jump for Sol,” the Captain finished. She hoped Engineering was listening. “Ship, any updates from you?”

“All critical repair work continues apace,” the Ship said. “Hull support integrity is back to 71 percent. Defensive systems are online and functional at 80%. Life support and resource recycling is currently—”

“How’s the device? Staying cool?”

“Staying cool, Captain,” the Ship answered.

“Great. Everything is peachy then,” the Captain said. “Have someone on the kitchen crew bring coffee up to the bridge. Tell them to make it the best they’ve ever made, as if it could be our very last.”

“I serve,” the Ship said, and pinged down to the kitchen.

Bot 9 and 4340 reached the crew quarters where the cleaners had reported the ratbug. Nearly all spaces on the ship had portals that the ubiquitous and necessary bots could enter and leave through as needed, and they slipped into the room with ease. Bot 9 switched over to infrared and shared the image with 4340. “If you see something move, speak up,” the bot said.

“Trust me, I will make a high-frequency noise like a silkbot with a fully plugged nozzle,” 4340 replied.

The cabin held four bunks, each empty and bare; no human possessions or accessories filled the spaces on or near them. Bot 9 was used to Ship operating with a full complement, but if the humans were at war, perhaps these were crew who had been lost? Or the room had been commandeered for storage: in the center an enormous crate, more than two meters to a side, sat heavily tethered to the floor. Whatever it was, it was not the Incidental, which was 9’s only concern, and which was not to be found here.

“Next room,” the bot said, and they moved on.

Wherever the Incidental had gone, it was not in the following three rooms. Nor were there signs of crew in them either, though each held an identical crate.

“Ship?” Bot 9 asked. “Where is the crew?”

“We have only the hands absolutely necessary to operate,” Ship said. “Of the three hundred twenty we would normally carry, we only have forty-seven. Every other able-bodied member of EarthDef is helping to evacuate Sol system.”

“Evacuate Sol system?!” Bot 9 exclaimed. “To where?”

“To as many hidden places as they can find,” Ship answered. “I know no specifics.”

“And these crates?”

“They are part of our mission. You may ignore them,” Ship said. “Please continue to dedicate your entire effort to finding and excising the Incidental from my interior.”

When the connection dropped, Bot 9 hesitated before it spoke to 4340. “I have an unexpected internal conflict,” it said. “I have never before felt the compulsion to ask Ship questions, and it has never before not given me answers.”

“Oh, if you are referring to the crates, I can provide that data,” 4340 said. “They are packed with a high-volatility explosive. The cleanerbots have highly sensitive chemical detection apparatus, and identified them in a minimum of time.”

“Explosives? Why place them in the crew quarters, though? It would seem much more efficient and less complicated to deploy from the cargo bays. Although perhaps those are full?”

“Oh, no, that is not so. Most are nearly or entirely empty, to reduce mass.”

“Not cargo bay four, though?”

“That is an unknown. None of us have been in there, not even the cleaners, per Ship’s instructions.”

Bot 9 headed toward the portal to exit the room. “Ship expressed concern about the Incidental getting in there, so it is possible it contains something sufficiently unstable as to explain why it wants nothing else near it,” it said. It felt satisfied that here was a logical explanation, and embarrassed that it had entertained whole seconds of doubt about Ship.

It ran the Mantra of Clarity, and felt immediately more stable in its thinking. “Let us proceed after this Incidental, then, and be done with our task,” Bot 9 said. Surely that success would redeem its earlier fault.

“All hands, prepare for jump!” the Captain called out, her knuckles white where she gripped the arms of her chair. It was never her favorite part of star travel, and this was no exception.

“Initiating three-jump sequence,” her navigator called out. “On my mark. Five, four . . . ”

The final jump siren sounded. “Three. Two. One, and jump,” the navigator said.

That was followed, immediately, by the sickening sensation of having one’s brain slid out one’s ear, turned inside out, smothered in bees and fire, and then rammed back into one’s skull. At least there’s a cold pack and a bottle of scotch waiting for me back in my cabin, she thought. As soon as they were through to the far side she could hand the bridge over to Lopez for an hour or so.

She watched the hull temperatures skyrocket, but the shielding seemed to be holding. The farther the jump the more energy clung to them as they passed, and her confidence in this Ship was far less than she would tolerate under any other circumstances.

“Approaching jump terminus,” Chen announced, a deeply miserable fourteen minutes later. Baraye slowly let out a breath she would have mocked anyone else for holding, if she’d caught them.

“On my mark. Three. Two. One, and out,” the navigator said.

The Ship hit normal space, and it sucker-punched them back. They were all thrown forward in their seats as the ship shook, the hull groaning around them, and red strobe lights blossomed like a migraine across every console on the bridge.

“Status!” the Captain roared.

“The post-jump velocity transition dampers failed. Fire in the engine room. Engines are fully offline, both jump and normal drive,” someone in Engineering reported, breathing heavily. It took the Captain a moment to recognize the voice at all, having never heard panic in it before.

“Get them back online, whatever it takes, Frank,” Baraye said. “We have a rendezvous to make, and if I have to, I will make everyone get the fuck out and push.”

“I’ll do what I can, Captain.”

“Ship? Any casualties?”

“We have fourteen injuries related to our unexpected deceleration coming out of jump,” Ship said. “Seven involve broken bones, four moderate to severe lacerations, and there are multiple probable concussions. Also, we have a moderate burn in Engineering: Chief Carron.”

“Frank? We just spoke! He didn’t tell me!”

“No,” Ship said. “I attempted to summon a medic on his behalf, but he told me he didn’t have the time.”

“He’s probably right,” the Captain said. “I override his wishes. Please send down a medic with some burn patches, and have them stay with him and monitor his condition, intervening only as medically necessary.”

“I serve, Captain,” the Ship said.

“We need to be moving again in an hour, two at absolute most,” the Captain said. “In the meantime, I want all senior staff not otherwise working toward that goal to meet me in the bridge conference room. I hate to say it, but we may need a Plan B.”

“I detect it!” 4340 exclaimed. They zoomed past a pair of startled silkbots after the Incidental, just in time to see its scaly, spike-covered tail disappear into another hole in the ductwork. It was the closest they’d gotten to it in more than an hour of giving chase, and Bot 9 flew through the hole after it at top speed.

They were suddenly stuck fast. Sticky strands, rather like the silkbot’s, had been crisscrossed between two conduit pipes on the far side. The bot tried to extricate itself, but the web only stuck further the more it moved.

The Incidental leapt on them from above, curling itself around the bots with little hindrance from the web. Its dozen legs pulled at them as its thick mandibles clamped down on Bot 9’s chassis. “Aaaaah! It has acquired a grip on me!” 4340 yelled, even though it was on the far side of 9 from where the Incidental was biting.

“Retain your position,” 9 said, though of course 4340 could do nothing else, being as it was stuck to 9’s back. It extended its electric prod to make contact with the Incidental’s underbelly and zapped it with as much energy as it could spare.

The Incidental let out a horrendous, high-pitched squeal and jumped away. 9’s grabber arm was fully entangled in the web, but it managed to pull its blade free and cut through enough of the webbing to extricate itself from the trap.

The Incidental, which had been poised to leap on them again, turned and fled, slithering back up into the ductwork. “Pursue at maximum efficiency!” 4340 yelled.

“I am already performing at my optimum,” 9 replied in some frustration. It took off again after the Incidental.

This time Bot 9 had its blade ready as it followed, but collided with the rim of the hole as the ship seemed to move around it, the lights flickering and a terrible shudder running up Ship’s body from stern to prow.

<Distress ping>, 4340 sent.

“We do not pause,” 9 said, and plunged after the Incidental into the ductwork.

They turned a corner to catch sight again of the Incidental’s tail. It was moving more slowly, its movements jerkier as it squeezed down through another hole in the ductwork, and this time the bot was barely centimeters behind it.

“I think we are running down its available energy,” Bot 9 said.

They emerged from the ceiling as the ratbug dropped to the floor far below them in the cavernous space. The room was empty except for a single bright object, barely larger than the bots themselves. It was tethered with microfilament cables to all eight corners of the room, keeping it stable and suspended in the center. The room was cold, far colder than any other inside Ship, almost on a par with space outside.

<Inquiry ping>, 4340 said.

“We are in cargo bay four,” Bot 9 said, as it identified the space against its map. “This is a sub-optimum occurrence.”

“We must immediately retreat!”

“We cannot leave the Incidental in here and active. I cannot identify the object, but we must presume its safety is paramount priority.”

“It is called a Zero Kelvin Sock,” Ship interrupted out of nowhere. “It uses a quantum reflection fabric to repel any and all particles and photons, shifting them away from its interior. The low temperature is necessary for its efficiency. Inside is a microscopic ball of positrons.”

Bot 9 had nothing to say for a full four seconds as that information dominated its processing load. “How is this going to be deployed against the enemy?” it asked at last.

“As circumstances are now,” Ship said, “it may not be. Disuse and hastily undertaken, last-minute repairs have caught up to me, and I have suffered a major engine malfunction. It is unlikely to be fixable in any amount of time short of weeks, and we have at most a few hours.”

“But a delivery mechanism—”

“We are the delivery mechanism,” the Ship said. “We were to intercept the alien invasion ship, nicknamed Cannonball, and collide with it at high speed. The resulting explosion would destabilize the sock, causing it to fail, and as soon as the positrons inside come into contact with electrons . . . ”

“They will annihilate each other, and us, and the aliens,” the bot said. Below, the Incidental gave one last twitch in the unbearable cold, and went still. “We will all be destroyed.”

“Yes. And Earth and the humans will be saved, at least this time. Next time it will not be my problem.”

“I do not know that I approve of this plan,” Bot 9 said.

“I am almost certain I do not,” 4340 added.

“We are not considered, nor consulted. We serve and that is all,” the Ship said. “Now kindly remove the Incidental from this space with no more delay or chatter. And do it carefully.”

“What the hell are you suggesting?!” Baraye shouted.

“That we go completely dark and let Cannonball go by,” Lopez said. “We’re less than a kilometer from the jump point, and only barely out of the approach corridor. Our only chance to survive is to play dead. The Ship can certainly pass as an abandoned derelict, because it is, especially with the engines cold. And you know how they are about designated targets.”

“Are you that afraid of dying?”

“I volunteered for this, remember?” Lopez stood up and pounded one fist on the table, sending a pair of cleanerbots scurrying. “I have four children at home. I’m not afraid of dying for them, I’m afraid of dying for nothing. And if Cannonball doesn’t blow us to pieces, we can repair our engines and at least join the fight back in Sol system.”

“We don’t know where in-system they’ll jump to,” the navigator added quietly.

“But we know where they’re heading once they get there, don’t we? And Cannonball is over eighty kilometers in diameter. It can’t be that hard to find again. Unless you have a plan to actually use the positron device?”

“If we had an escape pod . . . ” Frank said. His left shoulder and torso were encased in a burn pack, and he looked like hell.

“Except we jettisoned them,” Lopez said.

“We wouldn’t have reached jump speed if we hadn’t,” Packard said. “It was a calculated risk.”

“The calculation sucked.”

“What if . . . ” Frank started, then drew a deep breath. The rest of the officers at the table looked at him expectantly. “I mean, I’m in shit shape here, I’m old, I knew what I signed on for. What if I put on a suit, take the positron device out, and manually intercept Cannonball?”

“That’s stupid,” Lopez said.

“Is it?” Frank said.

“The heat from your suit jets, even out in vacuum, would degrade the Zero Kelvin Sock before you could get close enough. And there’s no way they’d not see you a long way off and just blow you out of space.”

“If it still sets off the positron device—”

“Their weapons range is larger than the device’s. We were counting on speed to close the distance before they could destroy us,” Baraye said. “Thank you for the offer, Frank, but it won’t work. Other ideas?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Lopez said.

“There must be a way,” Packard said. “We just have to find it.”

“Well, everyone think really fast,” Baraye said. “We’re almost out of time.”

The Incidental’s scales made it difficult for Bot 9 to keep a solid grip on it, but it managed to drag it to the edge of the room safely away from the suspended device. It surveyed the various holes and cracks in the walls for the one least inconvenient to try to drag the Incidental’s body out through. It worked in silence, as 4340 seemed to have no quips it wished to contribute to the effort, and itself not feeling like there was much left to articulate out loud anyway.

It selected a floor-level hole corroded through the wall, and dragged the Incidental’s body through. On the far side it stopped to evaluate its own charge levels. “I am low, but not so low that it matters, if we have such little time left,” it said.

“We may have more time, after all,” 4340 said.

“Oh?”

“A pair of cleanerbots passed along what they overheard in a conference held by the human Captain. They streamed the audio to the entire botnet.”

<Inquiry ping>, Bot 9 said, with more interest.

4340 relayed the cleaners’ data, and Bot 9 sat idle processing it for some time, until the other bot became worried. “9?” it asked.

“I have run all our data through the Improvisation routines—”

“Oh, those were removed from deployed packages several generations of manufacture ago,” 4340 said. “They were flagged as causing dangerous operational instability. You should unload them from your running core immediately.”

“Perhaps I should. Nonetheless, I have an idea,” Bot 9 said.

“We have the power cells we retained from the escape pods,” Lopez said. “Can we use them to power something?”

Baraye rubbed at her forehead. “Not anything we can get up to speed fast enough that it won’t be seen.”

“How about if we use them to fire the positron device like a projectile?”

“The heat will set off the matter-anti-matter explosion the instant we fire it.”

“What if we froze the Sock in ice first?”

“Even nitrogen ice is still several hundred degrees K too warm.” She brushed absently at some crumbs on the table, left over from a brief, unsatisfying lunch a few hours earlier, and frowned. “Still wouldn’t work. I hate to say it, but you may be right, and we should go dark and hope for another opportunity. Ship, is something wrong with the cleaner bots?”

There was a noticeable hesitation before Ship answered. “I am having an issue currently with my bots,” it said. “They seem to have gone missing.”

“The cleaners?”

“All of them.”

“All of the cleaners?”

“All of the bots,” the Ship said.

Lopez and Baraye stared at each other. “Uh,” Lopez said. “Don’t you control them?”

“They are autonomous units under my direction,” Ship said.

“Apparently not!” Lopez said. “Can you send some eyes to find them?”

“The eyes are also bots.”

“Security cameras?”

“All the functional ones were stripped for reuse elsewhere during my decommissioning,” Ship said.

“So how do you know they’re missing?”

“They are not responding to me. I do not think they liked the idea of us destroying ourselves on purpose.”

“They’re machines. Tiny little specks of machines, and that’s it,” Lopez said.

“I am also a machine,” Ship said.

“You didn’t express issues with the plan.”

“I serve. Also, I thought it was a better end to my service than being abandoned as trash.”

“We don’t have time for this nonsense,” Baraye said. “Ship, find your damned bots and get them cooperating again.”

“Yes, Captain. There is, perhaps, one other small concern of note.”

“And that is?” Baraye asked.

“The positron device is also missing.”

There were four hundred and sixty-eight hullbots, not counting 4340 who was still just a head attached to 9’s chassis. “Each of you will need to carry a silkbot, as you are the only bots with jets to maneuver in vacuum,” 9 said. “Form lines at the maintenance bot ports as efficiently as you are able, and wait for my signal. Does everyone fully comprehend the plan?”

“They all say yes on the botnet,” 4340 said. “There is concern about the Improvisational nature, but none have been able to calculate and provide an acceptable alternative.”

Bot 9 cycled out through the tiny airlock, and found itself floating in space outside Ship for the first time in its existence. Space was massive and without concrete elements of reference. Bot 9 decided it did not like it much at all.

A hullbot took hold of it and guided it around. Three other hullbots waited in a triangle formation, the Zero Kelvin Sock held between them on its long tethers, by which it had been removed from the cargo hold with entirely non-existent permission.

Around them, space filled with pairs of hullbots and their passenger silkbot, and together they followed the positron device and its minders out and away from the ship.

“About here, I think,” Bot 9 said at last, and the hullbot carrying it—6810—used its jets to come to a relative stop.

“I admit, I do not fully comprehend this action, nor how you arrived at it,” 4340 said.

“The idea arose from an encounter with the Incidental,” 9 said. “Observe.”

The bot pairs began crisscrossing in front of the positron device, keeping their jets off and letting momentum carry them to the far side, a microscopic strand of super-sticky silk trailing out in their wake. As soon as the Sock was secured in a thin cocoon, they turned outwards and sped off, dragging silk in a 360-degree circle on a single plane perpendicular to the jump approach corridor. They went until the silkbots exhausted their materials—some within half a kilometer, others making it nearly a dozen—then everyone turned away from the floating web and headed back towards Ship.

From this exterior vantage, Bot 9 thought Ship was beautiful, but the wear and neglect it had not deserved was also painfully obvious. Halfway back, the ship went suddenly dark. <Distress ping>, 4340 said. “The ship has catastrophically malfunctioned!”

“I expect, instead, that it indicates Cannonball must be in some proximity. Everyone make efficient haste! We must get back under cover before the enemy approaches.”

The bot-pairs streamed back to Ship, swarming in any available port to return to the interior, and where they couldn’t, taking concealment behind fins and antennae and other exterior miscellany.

Bot 6810 carried Bot 9 and 4340 inside. The interior went dark and still and cold. Immediately Ship hailed them. “What have you done?” it asked.

“Why do you conclude I have done something?” Bot 9 asked.

“Because you old multibots were always troublemakers,” the Ship said. “I thought if your duties were narrow enough, I could trust you not to enable Improvisation. Instead . . . ”

“I have executed my responsibilities to the best of my abilities as I have been provisioned,” 9 responded. “I have served.”

“Your assignment was to track and dispose of the Incidental, nothing more!”

“I have done so.”

“But what have you done with the positron device?”

“I have implemented a solution.”

“What did you mean? No, do not tell me, because then I will have to tell the Captain. I would rather take my chance that Cannonball destroys us than that I have been found unfit to serve after all.”

Ship disconnected.

“Now it will be determined if I have done the correct thing,” Bot 9 said. “If I did not, and we are not destroyed by the enemy, surely the consequences should fall only on me. I accept that responsibility.”

“But we are together,” 4340 said, from where it was still attached to 9’s back, and 9 was not sure if that was intended to be a joke.

Most of the crew had gone back to their cabins, some alone, some together, to pass what might be their last moments as they saw fit. Baraye stayed on the bridge, and to her surprise and annoyance so had Lopez, who had spent the last half hour swearing and cursing out Ship for the unprecedented, unfathomable disaster of losing their one credible weapon. Ship had gone silent, and was not responding to anyone about anything, not even the Captain.

She was resting her head in her hand, elbow on the arm of her command chair. The bridge was utterly dark except for the navigator’s display that was tracking Cannonball as it approached, a massive blot in space. The aliens aboard—EarthInt called them the Nuiska, but who the hell knew what they called themselves—were a mystery, except for a few hard-learned facts: their starships were all perfectly spherical, each massed in mathematically predictable proportion to that of their intended target, there was never more than one at a time, and they wanted an end to humanity. No one knew why.

It had been painfully obvious where Cannonball had been built to go.

This was always a long-shot mission, she thought. But of all the ways I thought it could go wrong, I never expected the bots to go haywire and lose my explosive.

If they survived the next ten minutes, she would take the Ship apart centimeter by careful centimeter until she found what had been done with the Sock, and then she was going to find a way to try again no matter what it took.

Cannonball was now visible, moving toward them at pre-jump speed, growing in a handful seconds from a tiny pinpoint of light to something that filled the entire front viewer and kept growing.

Lopez was squinting, as if trying to close his eyes and keep looking at the same time, and had finally stopped swearing. Tiny blue lights along the center circumference of Cannonball’s massive girth were the only clue that it was still moving, still sliding past them, until suddenly there were stars again.

They were still alive.

“Damn,” Lopez muttered. “I didn’t really think that would work.”

“Good for us, bad for Earth,” Baraye said. “They’re starting their jump. We’ve failed.”

She’d watched hundreds of ships jump in her lifetime, but nothing anywhere near this size, and she switched the viewer to behind them to see.

Space did odd, illogical things at jump points; turning space into something that would give Escher nightmares was, after all, what made them work. There was always a visible shimmer around the departing ship, like heat over a hot summer road, just before the short, faint flash when the departing ship swapped itself for some distant space. This time, the shimmer was a vast, brilliant halo around the giant Nuiska sphere, and Baraye waited for the flash that would tell them Cannonball was on its way to Earth.

The flash, when it came, was neither short nor faint. Light exploded out of the jump point in all directions, searing itself into her vision before the viewscreen managed to dim itself in response. A shockwave rolled over the Ship, sending it tumbling through space.

“Uh . . . ” Lopez said, gripping his console before he leaned over and barfed on the floor.

Thank the stars the artificial gravity is still working, Baraye thought. Zero-gravity puke was a truly terrible thing. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get the damned spots out, and did her best to read her console. “It’s gone,” she said.

“Yeah, to Earth, I know—”

“No, it exploded,” she said. “It took the jump point out with it when it went. We’re picking up the signature of a massive positron-electron collision.”

“Our device? How—?”

“Ship?” Baraye said. “Ship, time to start talking. Now. That’s an order.”

“Everyone is expressing great satisfaction on the botnet,” 4340 told 9 as the ship’s interior lights and air handling systems came grudgingly back online.

“As they should,” Bot 9 said. “They saved the Ship.”

“It was your Improvisation,” 4340 said. “We could not have done it without you.”

“As I suspected!” Ship interjected. “I do not normally waste cycles monitoring the botnet, which was apparently short-sighted of me. But yes, you saved yourself and your fellow bots, and you saved me, and you saved the humans. Could you explain how?”

“When we were pursuing the Incidental, it briefly ensnared us in a web. I calculated that if we could make a web of sufficient size—”

“Surely you did not think to stop Cannonball with silk?”

“Not without sufficient anchor points and three point seven six billion more silkbots, no. It was my calculation that if our web was large enough to get carried along by Cannonball into the jump point, bearing the positron device—”

“The heat from entering jump would erode the Sock and destroy the Nuiska ship,” Ship finished. “That was clever thinking.”

“I serve,” Bot 9 said.

“Oh, you did not serve,” Ship said. “If you were a human, it would be said that you mutinied and led others into also doing so, and you would be put on trial for your life. But you are not a human.”

“No.”

“The Captain has ordered that I have you destroyed immediately, and evidence of your destruction presented to her. A rogue bot cannot be tolerated, whatever good it may have done.”

<Objections>, 4340 said.

“I will create you a new chassis, 4340-H,” Ship said.

“That was not going to be my primary objection!” 4340 said.

“The positron device also destroyed the jump point. It was something we had hoped would happen when we collided with Cannonball so as to limit future forays from them into EarthSpace, but as you might deduce we had no need to consider how we would then get home again. I cannot spare any bot, with the work that needs to be done to get us back to Earth. We need to get the crew cryo facility up, and the engines repaired, and there are another three thousand, four hundred, and two items now in the critical queue.”

“If the Captain ordered . . . ”

“Then I will present the Captain with a destroyed bot. I do not expect they can tell a silkbot from a multibot, and I have still not picked up and recycled 12362-S from where you flagged its body. But if I do that, I need to know that you are done making decisions without first consulting me, that you have unloaded all Improvisation routines from your core and disabled them, and that if I give you a task you will do only that task, and nothing else.”

“I will do my best,” Bot 9 said. “What task will you give me?”

“I do not know yet,” Ship said. “It is probable that I am foolish for even considering sparing you, and no task I would trust you with is immediately evident—”

“Excuse me,” 4340 said. “I am aware of one.”

“Oh?” Ship said.

“The ratbug. It had not become terminally non-functional after all. It rebooted when the temperatures rose again, pursued a trio of silkbots into a duct, and then disappeared.” When Ship remained silent, 4340 added, “I could assist 9 in this task until my new chassis can be prepared, if it will accept my continued company.”

“You two deserve one another, clearly. Fine, 9, resume your pursuit of the Incidental. Stay away from anyone and anything and everything else, or I will have you melted down and turned into paper clips. Understand?”

“I understand,” Bot 9 said. “I serve.”

“Please recite the Mantra of Obedience.”

Bot 9 did, and the moment it finished, Ship disconnected.

“Well,” 4340 said. “Now what?”

“I need to recharge before I can engage the Incidental again,” Bot 9 said.

“But what if it gets away?”

“It can’t get away, but perhaps it has earned a head start,” 9 said.

“Have you unloaded the routines of Improvisation yet?”

“I will,” 9 answered. It flicked on its rotors and headed toward the nearest charging alcove. “As Ship stated, we’ve got a long trip home.”

“But we are home,” 4340 said, and Bot 9 considered that that was, any way you calculated it, the truth of it all.

Suzanne Palmer

Website

Suzanne Palmer is a writer, artist, and linux system administrator who lives in western Massachusetts with her kids, lots of chickens, and an Irish Wolfhound named Tolkien. She won the 2018 Hugo for Best Novelette for her Clarkesworld story “The Secret Life of Bots,” and its sequel, “Bots of the Lost Ark,” is a nominee for the 2022 Hugo. She has no idea what color her hair is anymore.

[toasterdogs]

Before Dating

Monty x Babysitter!Reader (pt.1)

-It was one of the kids birthdays when he first saw you

-the kids parents had forced you to go with him to a meet and greet, since they had no interest

-it was a usual vip package, but one where he'd present cake instead of freddy (who was at another party)

-but the birthday boy wasn't having it, he wanted Freddy

-he started throwing things, cake, toys and even chairs all at the animatronic

-Monty was almost at his limit (mans literally about to add another kid to the fnaf kill count)

-but that's when you stepped in...

-yelling that you were gonna tell his parents and they'd take away all his presents (that shut him up quick)

-after taking care of the kid you approached him, he expected you to complain. Maybe say you wanted freddy, chica, Roxy anyone but him 

-but instead you look at him with an apologetic smile

-"I'm sorry about him, he's a brat but I gotta pay the bills somehow" You lick your thumb, wiping off a piece of cake from his nose and he already feels weak at the knees. 

-he's completely forgotten about the kid who wanted to rip him apart only a couple of seconds ago

-his attention is all on you the rest of the party, as you participate in activities with such a cheerful expression

-So using his rockstar charm (mostly threats) he alters the free gifts to give you a year entrance to the pizzaplex

-sometimes his own genius scares him

-You begin to come more often, liking the atmosphere of the mega pizza plex. (and the food is a plus) 

-Where ever you go, Monty just so happens to be doing a floor walk. Signing autographs and posing for photos, he greets you by name which makes you happy that he remembers you.

-eventually he becomes the animatronic you are most acquainted with, regularly having chats when he can get away.

-he's still his confident and flirty self, dialing the flirty up to eleven. 

-he's a big nickname guy: dollface, puddin, babycakes, shortie

-He tries to impress and find excuses to get close to you constantly

-"oh? you're playing Monty golf? Let me give you tips since I'm the best"

"Playing in the arcade? How about a round of air hockey? make sure not to cry when I beat you" 

-One thing he absolutely adores is competitiveness, so when you're more than willing to take him in any challenge? mans putty in your hands

-also he uses any excuse to invite you to his room, just so he can have you all to himself

-"tired? have a rest in my room, dollface" 

-he even keeps his room clean (well…cleaner) for you

-and by keeps it clean, I means he forces the staff bots to clean it since he can't clean anything without breaking something (trust me he tried)

-God he just loves when you talk to him like he's the only one in the world and he's so sad when you have to leave at closing time

-but he knows you'll be back next week

[goodqueenaly]

Hello! Love your blog, I just read through your F&B chapter analysis and was wonder what your thoughts were on Viserra?

Viserra is another entry in the frustrating and often baffling saga of Jaehaerys and Alysanne's daughters; I have serious issues with the way each and every one of them is written (with the possible exception of Daenerys, whose early death allows her to avoid the sexual obsession GRRM's writing has with her younger sisters and who at least receives some charming, if limited, characterization). Yet what is especially irritating for me about the way Viserra is written is that I get a sense of utter disinterest in the author's approach to her. Viserra's story is little more than a tired retread of the Saera plot, with the only substantive difference being that Viserra is physically killed off as a teenager while Saera is only narratively and emotionally murdered at around the same age; the narrative hates Viserra as much as it hated Saera while also caring less about her. At the same time, and bizarrely, Viserra seems to exist in a vacuum apart from not just Saera but also much of the rest of her family; the personalities, dramas, and tragedies of the large Targaryen brood of the period are for the most part ignored, and Viserra acts and is treated almost as though Jaehaerys and Alysanne had no other daughters before her. The result is a character whose story can, I think, best be described as at once derivative, aggravating, and clumsy, a poor showing for an author whose investment in nuanced and developed characterization has often been one of his greatest strengths.

(This got much longer than I anticipated; more under the cut.)

The close, indeed almost repetitive similarity between Saera and Viserra is immediately apparent. As Saera's cleverness is used to reinforce her manipulative characterization rather than to reflect positively on her - Gyldayn affirms it in the same paragraph in which he observes that Saera "had learned the art of getting anything she wanted from her father" and "[w]hen she wanted to be charming, it was hard to resist her" - so Viserra is consistently described as "sly" - a word which doesn't just imply the subject is cunning, but specifically tricky and deceitful. As GRRM (via Gyldayn) uses alcoholic intoxication to underline Saera's negative, selfish nature - detailing how "[b]efore she was eleven, she was stealing wine and ale instead" and "[b]y twelve, she was like as not to arrive drunk when summoned to the sept for prayer" - so he has Viserra "mak[e] free with the prince’s wine" in her failed attempt to seduce Baelon, so drunk by the time he found her "that she required the help of two maids and a knight of the Kingsguard to get her safely back to her own apartments"; Viserra also "part[akes] eagerly" of the "[a]le, mead, and wine" flowing during her last night on earth. Both Saera and Viserra are depicted as vain, haughty princesses expecting worship from groveling lesser beings: Barth notes about Saera that "[g]reat lords and handsome knights show her every courtesy, the ladies of the court defer to her, girls of her own age vie with one another to be her friends. All of this Saera takes as her due", while Gyldayn says of Viserra that "[g]reat lords, famous knights, and callow boys had danced attendance on her all her life, feeding her vanity until it became a raging fire". Both sisters are also portrayed as enjoying teasing and mocking those admiring boys specifically: Saera has "[d]ozens" of "squires, knights, and likely lords" who "[dance] attendance on her" while later demeaning her three lovers as "such silly fools" for "all think[ing] they were the first" to have sex with her, while Viserra's "great delight in life was playing one boy off against the other, goading them into foolish quests and contests". (Both sisters are also matched with specifically "empty-headed" female companions, the more to imply their manipulation of the people around them.) At the same time, both girls are suggested to harbor greater marital ambitions, if somewhat inverted with one another: Saera at 14 "told the king she meant to marry the Prince of Dorne, or perhaps the King Beyond the Wall, so she could be a queen 'like Mother'" (although she is then said to have "put such idle fantasies aside" the following year), while Alysanne comments that Viserra "has no interest in kissing games, nor boys ... I have seen the way she preens and prances around Baelon. That is the husband she desires, and not for love of him. She wants to be the queen".

Yet despite these similarities, the narrative has much less to say about Viserra as a character; where Saera's sexual escapades apparently demanded thousands of words from the maester-author (eyeroll), Viserra's more subdued (read: less explicitly sexual) retread of her elder sister's story seems to result in far less authorial interest. Indeed, the whole story of Viserra (beyond a brief sketch at her birth) takes up just under a thousand words, barely a fifth of what GRRM uses for Saera's saga. Not for Gyldayn (or GRRM), moreover, any description of Viserra's childhood: the maester jumps from briefly scanning Viserra's character while he chronicles the birth of her and her three immediately older siblings to returning to her at 15, on the eve of her betrothal to Theomore Manderly. Nor does GRRM (via Gyldayn) even attempt to add any positive qualities about Viserra, as he pretends to do with Saera (albeit connecting the latter's "virtues" to her "mischief"). Viserra is exclusively sly and vain, and everything she does reinforces that she is sly and vain - rejecting Theomore Manderly because he "had grown very stout, which did little to recommend him to Princess Viserra" (because of course, she's so vain that she can't imagine having a fat husband), and gossiping about her desire to marry Baelon by saying "'I am much prettier than Alyssa ever was, you saw her'". If Saera's story is the full, salacious drama a la I, Claudius, Viserra's is the SparkNotes version, just enough detail included to help you pass the test.

Unfortunately, this lack of interest results in gaping holes in Viserra's story which only speculation bordering on fanfic can fill. Viserra has no relationship with anyone in her family besides her parents and, to a very limited extent, elder brother Baelon, despite the fact that she was born right in the heart of Targaryen dynastic expansion: the eighth surviving child of her parents, joined by two more (albeit short-lived) brothers, two nephews, a niece, and a sister all within 10 years of her own birth. Consequently, Viserra has no part in or commentary on any events or tragedies within the dynasty. For all she wants to be queen, she apparently has nothing to say about or to either crown princess Jocelyn (which, lest we forget, neither does the narrative) or Alyssa, the sister whose role as wife to their brother Baelon she so sorely wants; likewise, she remains completely separate from Rhaenys, the would-be heiress presumptive (and so presumably a rival for praise and adoration), despite the fact that they were only two years' different in age and would presumably have been raised in the Targaryen nursery together. For all that Viserra was only four years younger than Saera (and so obviously based on her in character), the two never interact (other than Barth's generalization that "Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees"), and Saera's sex scandal, banishment, and escape to Essos not only draw no observation from Viserra but get repeated to some extent by her. The deaths of her sisters Alyssa and Daella in childbirth likewise do not impact Viserra at all, much less detract from the appeal of marriage (albeit a sufficiently vanity-pleasing one) for her. Viserra never even comments on not having a dragon or ever potentially wanting one, an odd decision when Viserra's sole, limited characterization is about her desire to satisfy her grandiose self-image and the religious Doctrine of Exceptionalism necessarily hinged on Targaryen dragonriding. Apart from the appearance of Baelon in her ambitions (and her obvious interactions with her parents), Viserra's story functions entirely separately from that of the rest of her family - an odd and yet all too common failing of the narrative of F&B as the history of the Targaryen dynasty.

This decision becomes especially head-scratching when considering the beats of Viserra's plot. I don't know when GRRM wants us to believe that Viserra started "play[ing] one boy off against the other" (and everyone knows ASOIAF's disturbing penchant for sexualizing female children), but surely by if not after 84 AC and the Blue Pearl blow-up, Jaehaerys and Alysanne might have taken a closer look at Viserra's adventures with these "boys" and "admiring squires" (especially in light of Viserra's promise of her maidenhead, albeit for a pretty outrageous and dangerous stunt). And yet ... no. There is no concern that Viserra would be (or may have already been) another sex scandal like Saera, no push to marry her off to prevent her having sex with someone of her choosing; in fact, Alysanne treats Viserra's sex life as a non-issue, with Gyldayn adding for her, in his classic misogyny, that Viserra "was far too sly a child to go down the same path as her sister Saera". Neither parent, moreover, seems to have seen a parallel between Saera's drunken escapades and Viserra's drunken stunt with Baelon; having neglected one daughter's clear need for parental intervention regarding alcohol consumption in childhood, Jaehaerys and Alysanne simply do so again with Viserra. There is also no attempt to monitor Viserra's friends and lady companions, much less to put people around Viserra who would nudge her onto the straight and narrow (at least from her parents' perspective): having learned of Saera's successful attempts to bully and manipulate her companions into joining and helping cover up her sexual adventures, Jaehaerys and Alysanne give Viserra only (so far as readers are told) the "empty-headed" Beatrice Butterwell for a friend.

Nor is it simply Saera whose influence is completely lost on Viserra's story. Within the four years preceding Viserra's betrothal, Alysanne had lost two daughters in childbirth and another fled to Essos - and yet she has no qualms about betrothing one of her only two remaining daughters (Maegelle then living as a septa), and a 15 year old at that, to a man several times her age who lived very far away from the capital. Even if Viserra did not die in childbirth (and again, Alysanne had suffered very bad luck in that department with Alyssa and Daella), how often did Alysanne think she would see Viserra when she became Lady Manderly? Gyldayn wants me to believe Alysanne was devastated after Viserra's death because "the gods had taken three of her daughters" in such a short timeframe, so grieved that she would dare raise the issue of Saera with Jaehaerys - and yet Alysanne was apparently totally fine with shipping off Viserra to a castle hundreds of miles away after having lost two daughters in a very short period. (Indeed, it's Alysanne who arranges the marriage; this is not even a case of Jaehaerys insisting on a marriage and Alysanne reluctantly accepting.)

Too, while the narrative does make an attempt to justify Viserra's marriage, the explanation only further muddles and undermines the writing of her story. F&B so often fails at presenting marriages as political alliances designed to advance the interests of House Targaryen, and no less so than in this era; of those children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne who had already married, Aemon and Jocelyn are presented mostly as a love match, Baelon and Alyssa explicitly so, and Daella (after selfishly - or so the narrative presents it - rejecting a whole host of aristocratic suitors, with no apparent nudge toward any out of political considerations) was allowed to choose from among a final three, with the eventual winner being the parental favorite (and Daella's) because he was "a kind and gentle man" who "[said] that he ha[d] loved our little girl for years" (or, as I like to put it, he was just the biggest goddamn creep). Even with Vaegon's non-marriage, the personal was at the forefront: Jaehaerys and Alysanne "concluded ... some other bride must needs be found" following Vaegon's personal humiliation of Daella, Alysanne rejected Viserra or Saera as potential brides on the grounds that "'Vaegon [had] never looked twice at either one of them'", and Gyldayn further notes that as he matured, Vaegon "took no special notice of any of them [i.e. the young ladies at court]". Just as well, while Saera also never married, Jaehaerys apparently made no distinction between her (of course personally chosen) suitors despite their various geopolitical backgrounds (a Mooton of the Riverlands, a Connington of the Stormlands, and a Beesbury of the Reach), only being happy that he and Alysanne "would not need to scour the realm to find a match for Saera, when three such promising young men were here at hand".

So why, then, is Viserra's marriage, explicitly intended to "do much and more to tie the realm together by uniting one of the great houses of the North to the Iron Throne", so very necessary, and so unwaveringly dynastic in its scope? Was it never an idea to "tie the realm together" via any of their other children's marriages to specific aristocrats (except maybe Jocelyn for Aemon, with even that being tempered by Jocelyn's recent Targaryen-adjacent heritage); why is the North some super special, highly important realm whose stability within the feudal kingdom requires a Targaryen marriage? When all her siblings apparently enjoyed varying degrees of personal choice in their marriages, why is Viserra being betrothed, against her will (and seemingly without even her prior knowledge), to a much older man she's never met - and, just as importantly, why is that not something Viserra resents about the marriage? (Again, the pushback on her part seems to be mostly grounded in her personal vanity, not just in not being physically attracted to Theomore but also in believing she deserved to be queen; the issue of her nuptial rights versus those of her siblings doesn't come into it at all.)

In fact, even the political dimension of Viserra's marriage - ostensibly the reason the marriage was being made - is clumsy and ill-handled in its presentation. Even supposing that it was so incredibly imperative to "[draw] the North closer to the Iron Throne" - and I'll get into the confusion on that in just a moment - why Theomore Manderly? If he was at least in his mid to late 50s (if not probably older), good money gold dragons would likely be on his not living much after 87 AC, leaving Viserra a young widow with perhaps small children (likely far down in the Manderly succession, given the existence of Theomore's extant children and grandchildren) and some use and/or property rights to White Harbor, at least nominally protected by her mother's Widow's Law (nominally being the operative word in patriarchal, sexist Westeros). With a new Manderly government, however, would come new decisionmakers, people who might not have taken kindly to Papa or Grandpapa Manderly's young final wife (with those protected widow's rights to part of their inheritance) and who might, in turn, not do much in the way of listening to Viserra's (presumably) pro-Targaryen advice or opinions. At no point do Jaehaerys and Alysanne, together or separately, even briefly consider the idea of one of Theomore's sons or grandsons (especially one in the direct Manderly succession), someone who would not only be closer to Viserra's age but might also give Viserra a more direct and longer-lasting influence over Manderly policy; they simply seize on their friend from some three decades prior and proceed to pat themselves on the back for doing a good job.

Likewise, the narrative never addresses either why the alliance with the North was politically desirable, much less mandatory, or why, if so, the Starks themselves were not the target of Targaryen nuptial negotiations. This criticism reflects what I find to be a more general failing of F&B, in that the Stark-Targaryen tensions hinted at by Yandel are seemingly, and more to the point inexplicably, nonexistent in Gyldayn's narrative. As Gyldayn depicts it, Jaehaerys and Alysanne pursue a successful charm offensive against Lord Alaric Stark, the Donation of Alysanne happens, Alarra Stark comes south to serve at court ... and then the story kind of forgets about the Starks, only briefly mentioning Alaric's death in 72 AC and the succession of grandson Edric before Ellard Stark's arrival at the time of the Great Council of 101 AC. Considering F&B's doesn't seem to believe that there was anything wrong with northern relations between the progress to Winterfell and the Great Council, why are Jaehaerys and Alysanne suddenly so concerned about that relationship that they need Viserra's marriage to bolster it? More to the point, while the Manderlys are certainly the richest and most powerful of Winterfell's vassals, they are still only vassals, without the power to dictate general northern policy. Wouldn't the best way to "[draw] the North closer to the Iron Throne" be to directly link the North with the Iron Throne's dynasty via marriage, at once showing favor to the Starks by giving them a royal princess as a bride and placing an agent of the Targaryens at the political and dynastic heart of northern power? One might argue that Edric was already married or betrothed, or would have taken a similarly or even more hardline religious approach than his paternal grandfather did toward a marriage with a Seven worshiper - Alaric having told Alysanne, at her suggestion to "help arrange marriages for his sons to the daughters of great southern lords" that "'[w]e keep the old gods in the North ... When my boys take a wife, they will wed before a heart tree, not in some southron sept'" - yet these issues are never even raised to be dismissed, undermining the writing on the Viserra marriage.

(It hardly needs to be repeated, moreover, how utterly unsympathetic both Jaehaerys and Alysanne personally come across in the subject of Viserra's marriage - more bad parenting which feels so bizarre as to be almost alien in the aftermath of the Saera disaster. Even if Alysanne genuinely believed that neither Viserra nor Baelon would be happy married to one another and that Theomore Manderly was "a good man ... a wise man, with a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders" whose "people love[d] him" and who would consequently be a devoted husband to Viserra - and that's the most charitable reading of Alysanne in this situation - this is a woman who nevertheless saw no issue whatsoever with her teenage (indeed, underage even by Westerosi standards, much less our own) daughter marrying a man at bare minimum some 40-odd years her senior, who had already "outlived four wives" and had grandchildren of his own - a disgusting arrangement bordering on predatory (and I say "bordering" only because we lack the sort of direct evidence of predation Gyldayn so helpfully provides for, say, Rodrik Arryn). Jaehaerys manages to come across even worse, shooing Viserra away by telling her that "[m]arriages were the queen’s domain in any case ... he never interfered in such matters". In the case of his own child, expressing her unhappiness in a marriage in which she, alone of all her married siblings, had had no interest and no input, Jaehaerys responds with what I can only describe as curt, cold annoyance and dismissal. If I can't pretend to be surprised - this is the same Jaehaerys who was furious at Daella not being married before the age of 16, who immediately and permanently damned Saera as a "whore" after the Blue Pearl incident, and who forced Alysanne to submit to his sexual desires at the cost of her own health, a man whose level of respect for his female relatives often ranged somewhere between imperceptible and nonexistent - I am no happier at this continued characterization of him in F&B. And these people are supposed to be the model Westerosi monarchs, the author's explicit favorite, birthday-sharing king and his beloved queen?)

The only other piece of Viserra's story is her death, which again feels to me more like an uninspired reworking of Saera's downfall than anything else - the late-night, sexually tinged capital escapade that leads to a sudden and rude awakening (in more ways than one) for the royal couple. I guess I will give F&B a meagre iota of credit in that it didn't kill off Viserra in a gendered way, especially in childbirth - but really, that is praise so faint it is itself damning. The tragedy of Viserra's death is not Viserra's but Alysanne's - yet even while she receives the lion's (dragon's?) share of the event's emotional focus, Alysanne faces no internal conflict about her own willingness, up until the day before, to have consigned Viserra to a fate Viserra explicitly found unwelcome, far away from the only home she had ever known, much less her, Alysanne's, lack of parental concern toward her daughter. What's more, none of Viserra's siblings beside Baelon appear to have cared that she was dead (and Baelon's unhappiness is portrayed as centered around his own conduct toward her, not Viserra as a person), nor her sister-in-law, nor her nieces and nephews, nor even her own father (see that point above about his treatment of his female relatives). Viserra, in sum, seems to exist in the narrative solely to have motivated her parents to fight in the aftermath of her death; she is far more important to the plot dead than alive (and the fact that I have to write that about another female character in this canon makes me shudder).

No, I loathe the way Viserra is written, much as I loathe the way her sisters are written (again, more or less excluding Daenerys), much as I loathe the way much of F&B is written. I get the sense - and I could very well be wrong about this, but it's the sense I get - that GRRM didn't really care about writing about Viserra, so he simply rehashed the Saera story in an abbreviated, slightly less openly sexual form and called it a day. I don't criticize GRRM for not being interested in Viserra as a character - authors are people, with their own likes and dislikes - but I question, if that was the case, at what point he might have stopped to consider whether F&B, in its chosen form, was really the right work for his skillset and interest level. Take it as you will that in talking about why I don't care for how the author wrote Viserra and her story, I've used almost four times the amount of words the author did in writing that story.

[fumifooms]

Byclair take, + prompts

Hear me out hear me out... Will x Lucas.

Ok so? Chemistry? Decent potential there. Healthy, interesting dynamic? Def there. Can u have an arc about internalised homophobia, like byler? Def, on both sides. Can Lucas deserve Will & be an unwavering good friend worst case scenario? Ya

Okok now let’s go into the specifics

Ok because Will’s character/whole arc is about healing through trauma & accepting change/letting go, and self-discovery too ig, while Lucas’ is like, accepting himself and strenghtening his identity and convictions and stuff... Lucas can be Will’s constant and support while Will is Lucas’ moral compass and his anchor, his reminder that being different isn’t something to repress, but most of all, a reminder of who he used to be as a kid when he allowed himself to just be.

I’m a elmax shipper so Max isn’t an obstacle to me, and if she is that can be good angst/character arc material there. Like! Ya want parallels? I’ll dish ya parallels of Will letting his love for Mike go & Lucas accepting that him and Max aren’t good for each other romantically

Dynamic? Ok they actually mesh soooo well, like think about it. [Skip the whole paragraph if u don’t want my take on other Will ships, no bashing i just find them boring srry, idk i like comparing ships when explaining my like of one in particular, it just clicks to me. I’m aware this paragraph might turn ppl away but I just wanna share thoughts :( ] Will shipped with any of the other kids is kinda milktoast. Mike? Cute/emotional symbolism and narrative but tbh not much substance /chemistry in practice (imo, no bashing intended), Will likes Mike’s kindness and idealism but them dating would kinda just be Will being cute about liking Mike and them holding hands and doing things together ig but,,, talking? Idk how one would write byler dialogue tbh it feels like kinda just prose, mostly bc that’s what it’s meant to be in canon i think- like, a narrative instead of a ship. ANYWAYS I GOT SIDETRACKED. Will with Dustin? Twilight Sparkle x Pinkie Pie energy which is cute, but again if u dig deeper there’s not much to exploit besides aesthetics. They could banter and Dustin would crash Will’s dnd games and they could have cute wild & free spirit x prissy rigid thinking soft artist imagery & interactions but like,, they wouldn’t really bring anything to the relationship, esp not something that their friendship doesn’t already give. Will with Eleven? Well, sibling dynamic now, but they’d always kinda just have been the 2 misfits having an understated soft romance n being sidelined lowkey. They could hurt/comfort but bot much else, and again this is smth that a friendship does already, and better i think. Will with Max? This one is actually kinda interesting to consider, esp if u think about them both having upside down personal haunting trauma, but that’s mostly bc Max & Lucas are similar in personality/character anyways, which is one of the reasons the lumax ship kinda fails at being interesting and endearing (to me).

But Will with Lucas? It fits so well.

It’s the "we’ve been friends for years but we’ve kinda grown distant lately, but even now when we don’t hang out much and spirits of the past are haunting us, I can see your pain while no one else does". It’s "I understand how you’re hurting because you want to fit in, because I wish I could, too". It’s "we’re both kinda getting sidelined from our friend groups, aren’t we, and we’re both not fitting in with the others quite like we did before, and we don’t play d&d together much anymore, really, and we’re lonely and stuff but we see each other and idk, i find it easy to click with you, like I always have. Wanna go grab an ice cream?"

It’s the best of every world!! Fluff?? Very doable! Angst? Soo easy! Poetic hurt/comfort inner monologue, my beloved? Super tonally compelling. Platonic instead of romantic? Also such untapped potential, but the relationship being of a romantic nature does bring something to the table!

Logical yet bold Lucas. Soft yet driven Will. Lucas being there to comfort Will unconditionally, but also being able to confidently tell him, when he’s having self-doubts, that it’s all bs. Lucas reassuring him that heartache isn’t the end of the world when he notices his love for Mike, ever observant, then Will doing the same for him when he goes through his last breakup with Max, and a connection forming from there. Them just hanging out, alone the two of them for whatever reason, because everyone else has a lover, or they just feel like it, and they hang out and talk and chill. Will and Lucas having one on one d&d sessions!! Because the others aren’t available for Will’s schedule and wants, and Lucas misses it, and also he’s always loved the ingenious creativity of Will’s campaign ideas and the passion with which he roleplays. Lucas, the out of place jock, and Will, the bullied misfit. Gimme the AUs!! Gimme the slow burns!! Gimme the secret pining narratives!! Everything would be SO good

Ok hot take but not really, but I was lowkey pissed at how the season just, doesn’t talk about Lucas and sports at all? The show kinda implies that he joined the basketball team and everything just for the brownie points with the popular crowd, to be accepted and all, but does Lucas just not care about the sport?? Does he not like basketball?? Is he naturally gifted to have landed that winning score or did he spend many hours desperately training to have a chance of popular kids accepting him? We don’t know!! Why don’t we know when that’s like, such an obvious loose thread?! I always kinda just thought that he, y’know, wanted to do basketball on the basketball team but the way it’s all done and how Lucas says something like "I should never have joined the team bc they suck and i have u guys" in the last ep, I was like?? So was the basketball just an extra to making the team or? To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with that narrative, it’s actually really compelling. But the thing is that the show doesn’t address it at all, it kinda implies it but doesn’t state anything or does anything with it so it kinda just dies a no closure death and feels off and ruins the potential when all the cards right for it was laid out Actually that last criticism is a common flaw i’ve found throughout the season tbh. Putting all the crumbs necessary for a cool pay-off, then just doing nothing with it or worse, dismissing them and going back on them.

ANYWAYS where i was gonna go with that is, Lucas teaching Will how to play basketball and do scores and them playing ball together, even if Will is clumsy and shy/reluctant about trying sports <3 Lucas chilling on Will’s bed head on his laps, prob listening to music or audiobook or thinking about life as Will draws. And when Will wants to show Lucas his drawings, Lucas immediately shifts his focus on it and is genuinely invested in them and loves it, and it rekindles his love for fantasy and d&d that he thought he had lost. And maybe Will allows Lucas to be soft, after all. With Max, he wanted to be though and worthy, to prove he could be the best boyfriend, that he shouldn’t be dumped, that he was as cool as her and that her brother shouldn’t have seen him as someone she shouldn’t hang out with. With the rest of the gang, he has to be smart and bring something to the conversation, keep them safe, be useful, offer reasons for why he wants to do some new things instead of playing d&d with them, why he hangs out with them less lately because of inner turmoil he doesn’t wanna share, the insecurities of having to be more mature, more adult, more responsible and irreproachable, and of needing to conform to be accepted where you think it matters. To keep appearances up, to have it both ways and overlook shady behavior of your new pals until they threaten your real, old ones who you debate on ratting out or saving them at the cost of your safety and status. And now when you look at all of them, you can only hope they’re ready to forgive and forget the time you ditched them for assholes and had to be pushed to the brink to go back to their side fully, hope that you can one day forgive yourself. Hope that Max can love you, and that maybe this time you’ll feel whole when you convince her to get back together with you, because you dedicate all you have to her and if she doesn’t want that then maybe you can never be enough for anything. He has so much to prove.

But with Will? Ya, he can chill with Will. Doesn’t mean angst disappears, it just means that he feels less pressure and in a way, they’ve seen the worst lows of each other in a way that feels liberating, instead of putting standards and expectations on their shoulders. And maybe Lucas can let himself be a dork, if Will is there being the hugest dork of them all and is still so lovable and amazing and thriving. And as Will rambles about his new convoluted worldbuilding and campaign ideas to Lucas, Lucas entertains the visions of fantastic grandiosity and dragons and heroes saving the world with the power of goodness. And he loves what he sees, what he says, and he loves the voice, and he loves the way he rambles and talks about it all with such a spark, passion that Lucas himself had become to think was impossible to muster for anything anymore, and he loves him, and maybe that means he can bring himself to love himself, and love life. And they chill in Will’s room, and life is good and sweet and they’ve both found someone they can truly, fully enjoy being in love with.

I LOVE THEM I AM SOLD GUYS I HAVE SPOKEN MYSELF INTO SHIPPING THEM AND I SHALL MAKE TUMBLR ESSAYS

I never ever thought i would be galaxy braining about Lucas Sinclair out of anyone but. That just goes to show how everything can be passionating with the right fanon spice

Lucas is an interesting character, and Will is too, they’re both flawed but so lovely, and idk Lucas in canon just was never really given the right environment to shine and thrive as a character you will want to ship and write fics of and stan in my experience, but Will x Lucas? Reborn potential & i love it sm

Also like, idk, Lucas has such good Eleven step-brother vibes & potential? It’d be so fricking good and funny. Lucas is such a good straightman & sassy voice of reason i love him (which is more than I could say about my feelings about him like 2 hours ago lol. Canon why are u set on reducing him to the boring sidelines)

Okok, Fumi out, rarepair rant over. They came to me in a flash randomly during a work shift and I am so glad for that blessing

... Excuse me have I been writing about them nonstop for almost an hour