#word censored to keep them off my lawn

[celestial-alignment]

Hi! I hope it’s okay to hop into your ask box to talk about tagging. I feel like we’ve been on tumble for a similar amount of time, and I just wanted your thoughts or opinions on what I feel like is incorrect tagging. The 2 main sides I’ve seen have been on people that are tagging their content but they are tagging it as “s*x” or “p*wp*w” or something with a cutesy name that makes it more g rated. But they do not tag it as sex or gun violence as well. Which in turn mean that people are not able to filter this content or make an informed choice on weather they want to engage with that content. And then the second is where people are tagging with specific tags, such as character a x character b with the goal of getting as many people to read or engage with their content, but it has nothing to do with this character. I’ve been comparing it to false advertising. And I understand that tagging on Tumblr has never been great (it’s not AO3), but I really feel like with the fall of other sites Reddit and Twitter being the main that come to mind and this resurgence of Tumblr that the issue has become more pronounced. I feel like the 1st is a safety concern and the second is just rude/inconvenience especially when creators are called out multiple time by different blogs and refuse to except that the way they are tagging is not the way that tagging works on Tumblr or otherwise. I guess I was just wonder if others were seeing the issues or if I was just becoming the grouchy old man screaming at the neighbor kids to get off the lawn. And if it’s not just me, if you or your followers have come up with a way to filter these out. I’ve just resorted to blocking accounts that refuse to tag in a safe or appropriate manner.

Hiya!

It’s always okay to hop in my ask box!

I’ve definitely seen other discussions about the problems of tagging, or lack thereof.

If I’m totally honest, I need to preface my response with saying that I’m perhaps one of the lucky ones in that it is very rare for words or content to trigger me in some debilitating way (I might be too numb to the world, which is concerning in its own right but a topic for another day), but I have loved ones who have had genuine traumas and have been subjected to unexpected triggers. Having not experienced the extreme of it first hand (for me I usually feel strong annoyance at the worst), I have seen how damaging it can be to other people and that makes me very aware of it online, especially Tumblr.

That being said, I wholly agree with you that censoring words in the tags defeats the whole purpose of tagging. You can censor all you like in the post itself or text images, whatever, but the tag blockers simply won’t work if the word in its proper spelling isn’t there. So when people are using asterisks in place of vowels (like s*x) with the intention of being careful and protecting someone? It’s doing the exact opposite.

I agree with the second thing too, about characters and their ships being tacked on to a buttload of other tags for the sake of exposure, even though it isn’t relevant. It’s definitely false advertising! It’s basically click bait. I’m sure there are cases where it was not intentional, perhaps the characters and their ship have a small role in a longer fic, so the author or op thought it was important to include them, but if they aren’t the focus, and if they aren’t important enough to the rest of the story if it’s a fic, I think it’s probably best to leave it out of the tags. Worst case scenario for not tagging it is the people who like it will be pleasantly surprised. The people who don’t like it can keep scrolling or for fics will just have to tolerate it for the small part that it’s included in the story.

Tagging on Tumblr is very much a unique animal. I never see it translate well onto other platforms, so a lot of newbies on this site probably go the Tik Tok or Instagram route where the more tags the better, even if they’re just barely relevant. I once put my own comments in hashtags on Instagram, and someone called me out on it not understanding why I was writing long tags that don’t even exist in the algorithm. LMAO oops

Block tags when you can, block accounts when you have to. I’ve done it here and there, because in a place like Tumblr, the more comfortable you can make it for yourself the better. It’s not always worth the fight or the argument in this wild west site.

Also, I know I am not always the best at tagging things. Usually I get lazy when it comes to tagging specific fandoms, but I do try because I know some of the things I like may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay!

I am also always open to anyone who needs to kick me in the ass to tag better or something. Scrolling Tumblr half awake most of the time does not make for a conscientious reblogger…

Thank you for the ask! I don’t always voice my opinions on things here, but I don’t want you to be the only old man screaming at those kids on your lawn. I’m right there next to you shaking a fist at them. You’re not alone in this, Anon, I agree all the way around and I know there are others who agree as well.

I’d love to hear everyone else’s thoughts on this too!

[silly-mouse]

Benchtrio's Boss

lowkey dated this with the tiktok reference but in my defense I thought this fic was shit, literally only written to complete the trio and allude to Boss's mysterious past oooh spooky-

~850 words

“It’s sleepover day, you fucks!”

Tommy cackled at Tubbo’s outburst, catching the pillow aimed at his head and flinging it back. “Keep your pants on, I can’t find my charger!”

“Found it,” Ranboo chimed, holding up the white cord victoriously. “Let’s go, let’s go, Boss said we’re bingeing their Studio Ghibli collection tonight!”

They all pushed through the hallway in one big blob of teen, barely stopping to snatch the tupperware with your dinner off the counter and call out a goodbye to Tubbo’s parents before they were dashing across the front lawn. Ranboo stopped on the edge of the road, the other two boys crashing into his back.

“Who’s talking to Boss?”

Tubbo peered around Ranboo’s shoulder, furrowing his brows at the flashy car parked on your side of the road to match the pretentious looking guy on your lawn. “I don’t know, I don’t recognize him…”

Tommy scowled. “Well I don’t like the looks of him,” he decided, seeing you push the guy back by the shoulder when he stepped closer to you. The trio slowly made their way across the street, trying to decide what to do.

“-and I just think if you gave it a chance-”

“You’re acting like a jackass.” The boys startled slightly at that- you always censored yourself around them but they’d never thought that you swore around other people. “I’ve told you no twice, I’ve told you to get the hell off my property twice, and if I have to tell you either of those a third time this rock is going through your windshield. So beat it, asshole, I’ve got company coming and I don’t want them around the likes of you.”

The douche scoffed. “What, your little babysitting gig? Put the squirts to bed with some sweets to keep ‘em quiet and let’s roll.”

The boys faltered at that. Sure, they were a bit younger than you and technically children, but you didn’t feel like you were babysitting them… right? You were all just friends hanging out. Sure they only hung out at your house… and you made cookies sometimes when you knew they were coming over… and you mostly just watched tv together… But they brought you dinner! That meant they were taking care of you just as much as you cared for them… right?

“They’re my friends,” you growled. “And it’s time for you to go.” You grabbed him by the back of his collar, dragging him to his car with shocking ease. You winced as you saw the boys. “Inside,” you told them firmly, in that ‘it’s for your own good don’t argue’ voice you had mastered. They quickly obeyed, stepping just inside before spinning around and spying through the open door. They watched you drag the douche all the way to his car, opening the driver’s door and throwing him in. They watched you growl a few probably choice words into his ear before slapping the door and stomping back to your house. “Come on, guys, nothing to see,” you insisted, ushering them further inside as the fancy car peeled down the road. You took the tupperware from Tubbo but he followed you into the kitchen.

“He wasn’t your friend, was he, Boss? You shouldn’t be friends with people like that, he seems like an ass.”

You sighed, ruffling his hair with a soft smile. “Not anymore: you’re right, he’s turned into an ass.”

Tommy took the chance to try to lighten the mood, yelling as he crashed into the both of you, wrapping his arms around you two. “Oooh, Big Boss swore! Naughty Boss, my poor little baby ears can’t take it! A hundred pounds in the swear jar, now!”

“As if, you little rat,” you laughed, twisting around to hook your arm around the blond’s neck and pull him into a headlock, giving the only child the noogie-ing he so desperately needed. “Stop struggling, you brought this on yourself- stop struggling, punk!”

“Help is on the way,” Ranboo declared, trying to sound like the TikTok audio that had taken over his for you page as he wrapped you in a chokehold of his own.

“Betrayal! This is a mutiny! Tubbo, get me my slippers! I’m gonna beat you rats like your mothers should have!” All three boys simply laughed, making you shake your head with a fond smile. Your fist against Tommy’s head opened up so you could ruffle his hair, your other hand reaching behind you for Ranboo. You laughed as he headbutted your palm like he was just another stray cat visiting your garden for snacks and affection. Tubbo, clearly upset about your lack of a third hand, simply tucked himself into your side and let you rest your chin on his head.

You all allowed yourselves a few moments of tranquility before you gave each boy a rough pat on the cheek. “Alright, get off of me, rats. Whatever Momma Tubbo sent me isn’t gonna reheat itself.”

[callboxkat]

Banished (part 11)

Author’s note: Surprise! There’s a new chapter! 

Summary: Janus has been banished from his pod for crimes that he did not commit. However, this merman’s bad luck is far from over. A mer is not meant to live on their own in the open ocean, and as one would expect, things do not go well. Enter: Florida Man.

Chapter Warnings: censored swearing, injury mentions (burn, cuts), banishment mention, murder mention, fainting, Remus being his chaotic self, weapon mention, arguing

Word count: 4126

Banished Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

Sadly, Logan was the sort of driver who obeyed all the traffic laws. He didn’t even speed. Not even a little! So, Remus’s drive took a little longer than usual, since he wanted to at least keep Logan’s car in sight in his rearview mirror.

Was that strictly necessary, given that Logan already knew where he lived? No. But also yes.

Thankfully, even with Logan’s tragically legal driving style, they made it back to Remus’s house before Remus’s anticipation made him buzz right out of his skin. Remus pulled to a stop on the curb, suddenly enough that the new buckets of sea water he’d collected sloshed dangerously. He hopped out and bounced towards Logan’s approaching car, barely remembering to actually close his own car door. While Remus waited, Logan carefully lined his car up on the street, turned it off, and finally stepped out, apprehensive.

A neighbor stood on the other side of the street, watering their plants and watching the pair. Remus jauntily waved, drawing Logan’s attention to the neighbor as well.

The neighbor scoffed, turning off their hose. They tossed it on the grass and crossed the street.

“You’re not planning on making more of those obscene costumes of yours out here, are you? Those things are disgusting. Just last week you covered half the street in glitter and rotten sea weed!”

Remus frowned for a second, then gasped and put his hands on either side of his head. “OH! I completely forgot, my swamp monster costume!” He sighed dramatically. “Damn, that party was supposed to be tonight.” Maybe he could still make the costume? There would be future parties to crash. And it would be fun to just wander around town, dressed up like the lost city of Atlantis’s worst nightmares. Maybe he’d accidentally dress up as someone Janus knew!

The neighbor was still scowling, looking between Remus and Logan while Remus’s imagination threatened to run away from him. “Who is this? One of your weirdo friends?”

Remus put away thoughts of terrorizing the town and put an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Oh this? This is my friend with benefits.” Remus winked.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”

The neighbor’s expression was overcome by revulsion. “Why the hell would I want to know about that? Ugh! You’re disgusting. Do I even want to know what you wanted that old aquarium for? And why did you leave so much sand in my mailbox?”

Remus smiled innocently, his arm still around Logan’s shoulders. “I put a 20 in there, too!”

“I didn’t ask you for that.”

“It’s for the tank.”

“It was covered in sand!”

“You don’t like your money crunchy?”

“…Crunchy?”

“Yeah, crunchy.” To illustrate, Remus took a sandy dollar from his pocket and popped it in his mouth with no hesitation, chewing on the salt-soaked paper. The sand grains crunched audibly in his teeth.

At that, the neighbor took several steps back. “What—just—what the hell are you two doing in there? I know you’re up to no good.”

“None of your business, dork!” Remus said, his voice slightly muffled by the dollar. “Now go away before I sick my new fish on you!

The neighbor looked confused and disgruntled, but they threw up their hands and walked away with another loud scoff, stomping across the street. Their front door slammed shut. The hose was still lying on their lawn, forgotten.

Remus leaned over to stage whisper to Logan, shoving the sandy dollar to one side of his mouth. “Logan. Logan. I called them a whale p*nis.”

“I am aware.”

Remus spat out the soggy, sandy dollar, cackled, and grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Anyway… onward!” he announced, pretending to brandish a weapon. Swords were overused, so he liked to picture a huge, jet black morningstar instead, covered in jagged spikes longer than his thumb. Maybe not practical, but it sure would have that intimidation factor.

“That would be preferable to remaining outdoors,” Logan commented, looking at Remus’s brandished arm with a furrowed brow. Unfortunately, he could not see Remus’s objectively bad*ss morningstar. “I was under the impression that that was why we were here.”

“Don’t want to admire my curb appeal?” Remus joked, putting away his imaginary weapon and turning to the other man.

Logan squinted up at the lime green house. “I’m not sure you know what curb appeal is.”

“Fair enough!” Remus said, marching up to his house. He unlocked the door and swung it dramatically open, his fun-hating neighbor instantly forgotten. “Jan!” he called. “I brought Logey to see you!”

Remus entered the living room first, Logan following behind more slowly. He paused in the doorway, while Remus trotted right up to the tank.

Janus was awake—if he hadn’t been before, yelling someone’s name was usually a good way to wake them up—and was now leaning on the edge of the aquarium, watching them.

“Hey Mr. Taser Fish—feeling chatty today?” Remus asked. Janus had still been asleep when he left earlier, so he hadn’t gotten to ask.

Janus, his eyes still on Logan, slowly reached up a hand and tapped twice on the aquarium glass.

Remus’s shoulders dropped. “Aw. Oh well. I guess we’ll get to play charades a bit longer—that’s fun, right?”

Janus shot him a skeptical glance before returning his gaze to Logan.

Logan was watching their interaction with a conflicting mixture of fascination and apprehension. Remus could practically hear the rapid spinning of gears in his head. He stepped back, gesturing between them. “So, Janus, meet Logan. Logan, this is Janus.”

Despite his clear interest, Logan didn’t seem inclined to come any closer than the doorway where he currently hovered, keeping Remus solidly between himself and Janus.

When Logan finally spoke, his voice was an oddly high pitch. Remus graciously decided not to call him out on it, even if it was amusing. “You, uh, look improved,” he said.

It was true. Janus still looked tired, and maybe a little feverish; but the only other time Logan had seen him, Janus had been visibly sicker, and pretty out of it. The swelling in his face had gone down noticeably, and his neck also looked less red. The injury to his arm was hidden by his capelet, but Remus knew that it already looked much better, too.

The capelet, of course, had not escaped Logan’s notice.

“Did you give that to him?” Logan asked, looking to Remus.

“It’s his,” Remus said. “Found it on the beach, with some other stuff. I did give him the pillow though—it’s my raincoat!” he added proudly

“Oh.” Logan looked back to the tank, seeming to notice the other items as well. He swallowed, turning to address Janus again. “Ah… do you remember me? I know you were rather… unwell, when we first met.”

Janus seemed to consider, then slowly tapped on the glass, with clear hesitation.

“He does,” Remus supplied. “Kind of, I think he means.”

Janus’s nail tapped again on the glass in confirmation.

“That’s what that means?” Logan clarified, his eyes flicking to Remus.

“Yeah. One tap is yes, two is no.”

Logan nodded. Another long moment passed. Logan had a look on his face like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. And he still hadn’t ventured past the entrance to the room.

Remus smirked a little. “Jeez, Logey, no need to be such a scaredy cat. He’s just a fish man.”

Logan shot him an irritated look. “I’m not afraid,” he argued, even as his gaze drifted to Remus’s bandaged arms. Obviously in an attempt to prove it, he straightened his back and approached, walking right up past Remus and up to the edge of the tank.

He stuck out a hand, and Remus did not miss the way his other one was clenched in a fist, or how he set his jaw. Remus scratched at the edge of one of the bandages on his arms, waiting to see what would happen.

Janus looked warily at his hand, then back up at Logan’s face.

“You shake it,” Logan blurted out. “You take my hand in yours, and shake it. It’s a hand shake.”

Behind them, Remus danced from side to side. “Shake, shake, shake,” he sing-songed to himself.

“It’s a gesture meant to be part of a greeting,” Logan continued, ignoring him.

Janus frowned, but then he deliberately fastened his small hand around Logan’s. Logan jumped slightly despite expecting the touch; but Janus didn’t shock him, and didn’t try to scratch him with those nails that were just a little too sharp to be human. He shook Logan’s hand, from side to side.

A little smile of delight appeared on Logan’s face, his mouth twitching up to reveal very white teeth. He quickly recovered, though, smothering his expression into something more neutral. Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Logey took himself too seriously. It wouldn’t kill him to let himself smile.

“Generally, you, um, shake hands up and down,” Logan said. He still sounded nervous. “Like this.” He carefully shook their hands properly.

Janus furrowed his brow, then retracted his hand.

“So, are we all best buds now?” Remus asked, grinning.

“That seems premature,” Logan commented, sounding a little breathless. Based on Janus’s expression, he shared a similar thought. Now that Logan’s handshake of bravery was done, he took a few steps back.

Remus pointed at Logan. “It’s only premature with that attitude,” he said, accentuating his words with his pointed finger. He turned back to Janus. “You want some lunch, new best bud?”

Janus tapped once on the glass.

“Great!” Remus left the room, heading towards the kitchen.

He only made it about five steps, when there was a loud thump from behind him, followed by a splash of water.

Remus stopped, frowned, and spun around on his heel, going back into the room.

Janus had pushed himself up so that his whole torso was above water. He looked like he regretted the sudden motion, but still his hands gripped the edge of the tank, his eyes wide with surprise. Water dripped down the sides of the glass.

Logan, meanwhile, was not standing where Remus expected to see him. A beat passed in which Remus stared at the empty space where his friend was supposed to be, and then he looked down.

Logan was sprawled out on the floor, unconscious.

“Huh.” Remus looked at him for a second, then back up at Janus. “Well, sh*t.”

…

Remus walked into the living room with Janus’s lunch in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. “Alright, Jan Jan, I actually got your food this time! This is for you,” he told the merman, handing over the fish with a flourish.

Janus accepted the food and sank to the bottom of the tank, where he started eating, never taking his gaze off of the humans for long.

“Aaand this is for you,” Remus said as he handed the water to Logan, who sat on the couch, his face still flushed red in mortification. The fact that Janus kept looking at Logan was not helping him feel any less flustered.

Logan took the glass with a small nod. Janus had started to pick his meal apart, tearing off scraps of fish and eating them one at a time. Logan slowly sipped from the glass of water. He’d insisted he must have been dehydrated or something, from work, but he got the sense that Remus did not believe him.

Remus plopped down beside Logan. “So, you sure you’re good? How’s the head?”

Logan took another sip of water. “I’m fine.”

“Really? I mean, I took one step out of the room and you conked right out on the floor.” Remus cackled. “Is Janus really that scary? I know he’s got fangs and stuff, but he’s the size of a little kid.”

Logan’s mouth thinned, his hands tightening on the glass. “W-well, in my defense, it’s not every day that I am pressured into meeting someone whose existence is so improbable, especially one with fangs and the ability to electrocute me—”

Remus put his hands up, interrupting Logan’s justifications. His expression had fallen, and he had the grace to look sheepish. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Not judging. But your head’s okay? I don’t want any cracked eggshells. This is a whole eggshell household.”

Logan put a hand to the back of his head subconsciously, even though he had already carefully checked for an injury. “It’s fine.”

Remus looked him up and down, squinting, before he  seemed to accept that he was telling the truth. He clapped his hands together. “Excellent! In that case, I’m going to go grab those buckets from my car.”

He started out of the room, only to pause and point a stern finger back at Logan. “No more fainting,” he said.

Logan sighed.

…

“So, how do you want to do this?” Remus asked, pacing back and forth with a hand to his chin. All of the buckets of sea water were lined up along the wall, and the remains of Janus’s meal had been taken away. Now they just had to clean the tank and switch out the water, but Janus was still in there, and he probably wouldn’t want to be in there for the whole time. Plus, they should probably check his injuries.

“Your arms are still burned,” Logan reminded him from the couch. “You shouldn’t pick him up. Your bandages will get wet, at the very least.”

“I’ve done it before,” Remus shrugged. “He’s not heavy.”

“It would be better if I did it,” Logan said.

Remus turned, giving him a disbelieving look, and tilted his head. “Ah…”

“I’m fine now,” Logan insisted.

Remus wasn’t convinced. He glanced at Janus, who looked uncertain about the whole idea of being picked up at all. Remus doubted he wanted to be picked up by someone who very well might faint again and drop him.

He considered. “I could cover up my arms. Like for the shower, but less naked.”

Logan let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head, but he seemed to realize that neither Remus nor Janus were going to let him pick up the merman that day. “…Fine.”

Five minutes later, freshly adorned with two large plastic trash bags, which were taped in place around his arms with duct tape, Remus walked back into the room. He swung his arms as he walked so the wrinkles in the plastic caught the air and made them puff out slightly.

“Like my new digs?” he asked. “How do I look?”

Logan set his empty glass on the table. “You look like you taped a pair of 13 gallon trash can bags to your own arms. With… is that zebra print duct tape?”

“I’m a trendsetter; you can just say it.”

Logan frowned his confused frown, and Remus grinned before he turned to Janus. “Alright, Mr. Taser Fish, ready to go?”

Janus looked reluctant, but didn’t fight Remus as he lifted the small merman from the tank, dripping water. Remus carried him out into the kitchen, setting him down in the kitchen sink, which was half-filled with saltwater. He’d grabbed some towels to pad the side of it and make a pillow.

Janus looked around uncertainly as he shifted to get more comfortable. He looked up at Remus, who could tell he wanted to ask a question. Remus could guess what it was.

“This is where we fixed you up,” Remus explained. “Is it comfy enough?”

Janus took a moment to assess his surroundings, before carefully tapping once on the counter.

“Great—I’ll just take care of the tank. Just yell if you need something. Or drop a plate on the floor. I got the whole set at a yard sale just for promising I’d leave, so it’s no loss! Maybe I’ll actually go buy those ones I’ve had my eye on. They’ve got this octopus on them, and he’s got a top hat and a bunch of knives. Which is just top tier design.”

Janus stared at him. Remus grinned, saluted, and bounced back to the other room.

…

Cleaning the tank took a while, but it wasn’t too long before Remus had finished pouring the last bucket of seawater in, tossing the empty plastic container into the haphazard pile of other buckets, to be taken back to the beach the next day. He returned to the kitchen for Janus, who wasn’t pleased about being woken from his nap; but he let Remus pick him up and carry him back to the tank readily enough.

“Oookay,” Remus said once Janus was back in the tank. “Logey, you ready to go?”

“Ah… yes, I suppose I ought to return home,” Logan said. He got to his feet. “I’ll see myself out.”

“I could drive you.”

“I require my car. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, no, no, congrats on your new stalker, buddy. If you won’t let me drive you, I’m going to follow you home, to make sure you get there okay.”

Logan frowned. “That is unnecessary.”

“Well, what if we stop somewhere for some food? Then I’m not just following you, we’re going to hang out. You have to eat lunch at some point, right?”

“…That would be acceptable, I suppose.”

“It’s a date!” Remus turned to Janus. “Butt—” he waggled his “—before we go, do you need anything? More food? My offer of a bedtime story is still open, even if it’s noon.”

Janus had seemed to be attempting to follow Logan’s and Remus’s conversation, with limited success. At being addressed, he straightened slightly, then mulled over the question for a long moment.

He glanced down, steeled himself, and stuck out one of his hands.

Remus blinked, confused. Did he want a handshake? Maybe he wanted one from Remus and Logan.

But when he reached to shake the merman’s hand, Janus yanked it back with a look of frustration, only to hold it out again. Remus realized he was actually offering the metal cuff on his wrist, the one with the bandage wrapped underneath.

“Are you giving that to me?” Remus asked with a frown. “The cuff?” It was pretty, sure, shiny metal despite being from underwater, and etched with symbols, but it was a little small for Remus’s wrist.

The merman hesitated, frowned, then tapped on the tank.

“Oh. You don’t want it?” Remus wasn’t sure what he’d do with it, but if the merman really wanted to give it away, he wouldn’t refuse.

The merman tapped what seemed an overly adamant no. Remus got the idea he was missing something.

“Okay. Does it… do you know how to take it off?” The cuff didn’t appear to fit over his hand, and neither Logan nor Remus had noticed any way to release it. The cuff seemed featureless, other than some symbols that decorated it, symbols that resembled Janus’s writing the day before, but which might as well have been gibberish to Remus.

Looking frustrated, Janus tapped twice again, another firm no.

Ohhh. “So… you want help getting that off? Like the garbage, the other day?”

The merman tapped loudly on the glass. There was a desperate, yet utterly hopeless look growing in his eyes, one that alarmed Remus. It was just a bracelet! A thick bracelet, sure, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? Maybe it had been stuck on him for a really long time or something.

Remus hesitantly took his wrist, which Janus allowed. He turned it this way and that, inspecting it. He thought of the bruised skin around the cuff, currently hidden by bandages, and realized that that was probably the result of the merman’s own attempts to remove it. “How did you even get this on?” he wondered aloud.

Remus heard shuffling steps as Logan came over to see. “He doesn’t have it on by choice? I thought it was decorative.”

“I guess not?” Or if it had been, it wasn’t anymore.

Janus let out a frustrated sigh through his nose. Remus considered trying their pizza box alphabet again, but then the merman took one of his fingers and traced a line along the cuff, from one side to the other. Remus leaned in closer, making Janus twitch uncomfortably, and finally saw a near perfect seam in the metal, which followed along some of the symbols—letters?—etched there.

“I see,” Remus said, and Janus relaxed imperceptibly at the small amount of progress. So, it did open somehow. Or had, at some point. He considered, inspecting the cuff further.

“Does it unlock?” Logan asked. “Is there somewhere a key goes in?”

Janus reached out with his free hand and motioned to a portion of the cuff. Remus squinted, and realized that he could in fact see a small hole there. But it was so small, there was no way his lockpicking tools could fit inside.

“Hmm. That’s way too small for a paper clip.”

“You don’t have the key, do you?” Logan asked.

Janus sighed and didn’t bother answering. His body language, and perhaps the fact that the cuff was still on his wrist, were answer enough.

“How’d you get this on here in the first place?” Remus asked.

Janus, of course, said nothing.

“I guess I could try my lockpicking kit—”

“You have a lockpicking kit?”

“—but I really doubt it’ll work on this.”

Logan held out a hand. “May I see?”

Remus glanced at him with an exaggerated amount of skepticism. “Only if you pinkie promise to stay conscious.”

“Shut up.” Logan brushed away Remus’s proffered pinkie, and very carefully took Janus’s wrist from the other man, at first touching it only with his fingertips. The merman looked uncomfortable, but there was a faint, guarded hope in his eyes.

A silent moment passed as Logan examined the cuff. He ran his thumb over the symbols. “Are these letters?” he asked. “What do they mean?”

Janus’s hands clenched suddenly, and Logan quickly let go of his wrist, practically scrambling away.

Nothing else happened, so Logan shakily cleared his throat. “W-well, It… it looks like it is made of rather strong metal, and as… as Remus said, there is no obvious mechanism by which we can remove it.”

Janus wilted in bitter resignation.

“So… the only option may be to cut it off.”

Janus lifted his head, eyes wary. He put his free hand over the cuffed one protectively. Logan didn’t seem to notice.

“He means the cuff, not your hand,” Remus interjected, before that misunderstanding could become disastrous.

“I—yes, of course I meant the cuff. I know someone who can do it safely. If-if you’ll let him.”

Janus stared between them, disbelief written across his features. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.

“You can remove it?”

The words were very quiet, hoarse, and clearly painful to get out, but they were understandable. Logan’s eyes widened. Remus managed to keep his scream internal—barely.

“I believe my friend can,” Logan said slowly. “Will you allow me to contact him?”

“Only if my lockpick doesn’t work!” Remus assured. He was 99% sure it wouldn’t, but he’d still try.

Janus’s hand wrapped around his wrist. He still looked incredibly doubtful, and the silence went on long enough that Remus almost thought that that was their answer; but then he reached forward, and tapped once on the glass.

…

This was a terrible idea.

Janus knew it. He knew he should be absolutely against any more humans finding out about him. More humans meant more unpredictability, meant more danger.

But if it meant the end of this f*cking cuff on his wrist, he’d do almost anything.

Remus’s ‘lockpick’ hadn’t worked—sharp metal tools that he struggled to fit in the near-perfect seam in the metal, with the only effect a sore hand and a new scratch in the cuff’s surface that didn’t do anything towards weakening its structural integrity.

So, now he and Logan were gone doing whatever they were doing, and Logan was going to reach out to this ‘friend’ of his.

Maybe he actually didn’t know anyone who could get the cuff off. Maybe he’d hit his head when he fainted, and wasn’t thinking clearly. Maybe this was a waste of time.

At least Logan didn’t seem nearly so scary anymore, after what had happened.

Janus leaned his head on the cool glass, letting his eyelids close.

Maybe it was a waste of time to even try to get this cuff off, but undeniably, there was still a part of him that desperately wanted to go home. If not back to his own pod, who would know of his conviction with or without the marker of his banishment, then to another pod. One who had never heard of Janus, the vicious attempted murderer who got off easy.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 16

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Warnings: Mention of car accident/death/depression

; Word Count: 5k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Thanks for keeping with me after the hiatus! There may be another next week but for now, here’s part 16 :) I hope you all enjoy, please reblog if you do so that others can see it as well! Leave me comments and asks, I love to talk about this world with you all!’

; Flower Masterpost

-

It’s a rather novel concept, you think to yourself wryly as you watch the way Hoseok runs his palms along the length of thighs once more, trying to wipe away his anxiety. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hoseok look like this nervous or unsure of himself in the whole six months you’ve been dating him.

You’re currently driving over to your parents, having accepted their offer of dinner. Normally you’d just go by yourself, but this Saturday your parents had explicitly invited you to bring Hoseok. He’d agreed, obviously, but he’d been a little hesitant. Even you knew that meeting the parents was a big step in a relationship.

While being nervous yourself to introduce him to them properly, you also felt that it was the right time for it. You loved your parents and they’d always been so supportive of you, no matter what you’d decided to do in life. It only made sense for you to finally introduce the man who made you smile just at the thought of him.

Despite that, you were still worried about everything because you desperately wanted them to like him. Their approval meant a lot to you and knowing that they thought he was a good match was equally as important to you as him liking them. But you’d never brought any guy home before, or anyone really. Never even really mentioned dating to them to be honest.

You’d always been shy around that kind of stuff, only dating and all of that in college where you could almost be anonymous amongst the large student body. So for you to bring home Hoseok meant that he was special, very special. And they knew it too. But you just didn’t know how you were meant to act with them or him, or what the protocols were for bringing home your partner.

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok had no idea either. You’d been both surprised and yet not to find out he’d never met a girlfriend’s parents before. It was something you supposed that you’d expected given who he was and what he’d told you of his past. He’d never dated seriously enough to warrant meeting parents so he was in the same boat of uncertainty as you.

Only...the Hoseok who had been a rock for you in the murkiness of your life and mind these last few months had suddenly needed a rock in turn. His lack of experience in this department combined with his need to make sure he makes a good impression for both you and him meant that he’d taken on the role of nervous and awkward person in your relationship.

Which considering the fact that you were currently experiencing a downward slide in your own mental health, the exhilarating happiness of the last few months finally catching up to you and sending you back down the road of depression and severe anxiety, was impressive. But it was proving a great distraction away from the way you were slumping backwards in your mood, letting you focus instead on Hoseok.

He’d spent all of last night being very quiet, his thoughts evidently far away and he’d asked you about a million questions about your parents. You’d thought it was all very sweet of him to be so worried but at the same time, you were hoping he’d get back to being his bright self because it was starting to make you worry a little too.

And he was being very serious about it all as well because even sex hadn’t been able to take his mind off it for too long. Your magnificent boyfriend had finally, finally managed to make you orgasm during sex a week or so ago and he’d been beyond proud of himself that he’d done it.

You’d thought that giving him a goal to achieve to make himself feel better would be good, and of course you got an added benefit from that...

But last night, he’d been okay for exactly half an hour before he’d cuddled up to you and began querying you once more. You hadn’t got annoyed at him though, because you knew he was just genuinely worried about how they might take him. Seeing him in your pictures on social media and hearing you talk about him is one thing, but meeting him is another thing entirely.

Hoseok’s opinion of himself was that he was a tattooed, pierced metalhead with a long history of sexual escapades and plenty of wild drunken nights. Not what most parents wanted for their daughter to date, especially when said daughter was so socially introverted and easy to hurt.

Your efforts to soothe his worries hadn’t really worked, so now you just supposed that he had to be shown that your parents would like him. There was no doubt in your mind that they would, because despite all of the things he was worried about himself for, he had one thing going for him that perhaps the most important thing of all.

He made you happy and he made you smile. 

You knew that they would give him more than enough chances to prove himself because of those two facts alone, because they knew more than anyone how hard you struggled to make friends and how romance had been almost a foreign term to you. So to meet the man that had finally managed to show you what a relationship could and should be was high on their list.

Pulling into the drive behind your dad’s car, you look out at the small house that you’d grown up in. It’s nothing big or fancy, one of the smaller houses in this neighbourhood of working class people really. The paint on the awnings was chipped and fading while the railing on the porch sagged a little from the weight of its age. 

Even your dad’s car in front of you showed more than enough signs of wear and tear. His job as an engineer at a car manufacturer was based half an hour away from here, with most of that down the highway. It had paid enough to keep the house going along with the car but most of his salary and your moms had gone to paying for your college fees.

Only now were they finally able to properly save up for themselves, hoping to buy a house that was a little nicer than the one they had now. Eyeing the lawn out front, you sighed as you saw it was starting to look overgrown with more than a few patches looking brown and the mailbox was beginning to lean to the side.

“I should come home more often,” You muse out loud to yourself, taking the keys out of the ignition and pressing the button on your seat belt holder. “Help my parents out with the chores and stuff.”

Hoseok looks around as well and you hope that he’s not disgusted or anything by your childhood home. You know that his parents are much better off than your own but he’s never shown himself to be a snobby person or anything.

“Well if you want to, I can come too? I mean...if they want me to. I can help do any manual work if they need it?” Smiling, you reach up and tap his cheek fondly with your palm and internally cheer as he gives you a smile in response.

“I’d like that, you're good with your hands. Just don’t let them take no for an answer then. My parents are wonderful people who deserved far more in life than they got, but they’re still proud. They’ll accept our help as long as we don’t make out that it’s help, you know?” He nods, looking thoughtful before letting out a deep sigh.

Giving him a once over, you get out of the car and wait for him to do the same, locking it behind you before making your way up the path of broken and cracked flagstones. Hoseok’s hand around your wrist stops you suddenly as he pulls at you slightly and you turn, frowning when you see the worry on his face.

“What if they don’t like me? Should I have worn something different?” He asks, for possibly the tenth time today and you internally sigh before facing him fully. His outfit today is just like any other; black jeans with rips and a band shirt with his usual leather jacket slung over the top. Only his hair looks slightly different and that’s because he’s been running his hands through it anxiously.

Placing your hands on his waist, you stroke them up and down reassuringly before giving him a big smile. Hoseok pauses for a moment before his arms wrap around you in turn, causing you to hug him back tightly with your cheek mashed against his warm chest.

“You’ll be okay Hoseok, honestly. I’ve told you enough times and I’m positive you’re gonna find out I’m right. I’m the most awkward one in my family so if you can win me over then you’ll do fine. Please just be yourself because you’re one of the most outgoing and charismatic people I’ve ever seen.” He eyes you carefully before he chews at his lip ring.

You’d had to convince him to keep that in, along with his tongue piercing because he’d wanted to take them out to make a better impression. But you wanted your parents to meet the Hoseok you knew and adored so much, not one that censored himself.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Muttering the words, you see the frown on his own face and lean forward, catching his attention once more as you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. One arm moves from around his body to cup his cheek, thumb stroking gently and when you pull away, you see him looking a little calmer.

Moving backwards, you reach down and grab his hand in yours, pulling him along the short path with a bright smile. “Come on mister, I’ve got a surprise for you that you’re gonna love.” 

You hear Hoseok’s confused noise behind you, wondering what on earth you’re on about when you bounce up the stairs to the porch and open the front door of your parents house. Almost immediately you hear the scurrying of paws and crouch down with open arms as a furry dog comes barreling out of the living room, barking excitedly.

“Hello baby girl!” You coo to the golden retriever who almost knocks you over in her enthusiasm, tail wagging wildly as she pushes her nose into your face and tries to climb into your non existent lap. Laughing, you stroke her head before standing up and turning to Hoseok. That’s all the cue she needs to begin investigating him, tail going just as hard as she sniffs him all over.

You can’t help but laugh loudly at his face when she shoves her nose in his crotch and you reach down to grab her collar, tugging her inside gently while Hoseok closes the door behind you both. Kicking off your shoes and placing them onto the shoe rack, you watch as Hoseok does the same before he crouches down as well, a bright smile on his face as he holds his hand out for her to smell.

“This is Harley. She’s an old girl now but we had a lot of fun times when I was in high school. Isn’t that right eh? You were my best friend back then.” Ruffling her fur, you laugh as she drops to the floor and presents her belly, pushing her nose into Hoseok’s hand in her need to get as much attention as physically possible.

“You didn’t tell your parents owned a dog.” Hoseok’s tone is almost accusatory and you grin mischievously. 

“Didn’t tell you because I know you love dogs and I wanted her to be a surprise. She’s been a very long lived retriever, she’s actually 13 now and we got her when I was 13 but she’s still the furry ball of love she always was.” Running your fingers through the golden fur that didn’t quite feel as soft as it once had, you give a sad smile.

You know that there will be a day when your parents call to say that she wasn’t here anymore, but you also knew that she’d had such a long and wonderful life that you’d be okay with that fact. For now though, you were going to give her plenty of pets and love. And looking at Hoseok as he beams, leaning down to almost press his face to hers while all the tension he’d been holding leaves him, you know that he’ll do the same.

“If you’re not careful, you’re gonna send her into a coma of love.” Your dad says and you look up with a big grin at the sight of him, giving Harley one last stroke before standing and moving over to him. He’s dressed casually as usual, just black sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt with those grey wool socks he loves to wear covering his feet.

“Hi. And you know she loves it.” Turning, you watch as Hoseok gives Harley another pet before standing up slowly. It almost breaks your heart how nervous and shy he looks, his hands come around to clasp together at his front while his gaze steadfastly doesn’t meet your dads.

Moving over to him, you wrap your hand around his arm and look back at your dad, noting that your mom has arrived too. She’s just in some plain grey lounge pants with a graphic t-shirt with Toothless the dragon on it. You’d told them to be casual with Hoseok, hoping if they just dressed like they normally would in the house then he wouldn’t get too stressed immediately.

“Mom, dad, this is Hoseok. My...err.” You find yourself freezing as you try to introduce him, the word you’re trying to say almost getting stuck in your throat and you frown in annoyance at yourself. God, you couldn’t even do this right.

Hoseok saves you though, taking a deep breath before giving them his most charming smile, the one that wins over just about anyone who sees it. “I’m Jung Hoseok, her boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”

You can tell by the twitch in his arm that he wants to hold out a hand for a handshake or something but you keep a tight grip on him, thinking that’d probably just be too formal and strange. He was meeting your parents, not the President of the United States.

“Hi Hoseok, Y/N’s told us a lot about you.” Your dad says, nothing negative in his voice as he scans over Hoseok before giving him a brief smile. The relief you feel as you sense that Hoseok has passed the visual test at least that your parents are no doubt giving him right now is palpable.

“She has! Come in, come in. Both of you. Do you want to take your jacket off?” This comes from your mom now, her tone telling him that even though it was a question, he should probably obey. Sure enough, Hoseok hears that and acknowledges it, giving a gracious smile before shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to her when she reaches for it.

Gently, you push Hoseok through to the living room and direct him to a seat that won’t be occupied. You weren’t sure about other households, but yours always had assigned seating based on people’s preferences on the couch. 

Your dad took the end of the couch, your mom always took the bit that stuck out so she could almost lay down and you always sat in the armchair. But for today, you sat on the couch and watched as your dad sat in the armchair. Hoseok carefully sat next to you and as he did so, you placed your hand on his thigh and rubbed it gently.

“You okay?” You whisper quietly and he nods in response, his hand moving to grasp yourself and thread your fingers together. Harley is there mere moments later, pushing her face as close as she can get without actually climbing onto you both and you smile as Hoseok lets out a quiet laugh, his free hand moving to stroke her gently.

“Was your drive over okay? Is your car still making that noise?” Glancing away from Harley, you look at your dad with raised brows before nodding to him.

“Yeah it was fine, there was no traffic really which is why we’re a bit early. And it doesn’t seem to be doing it now? You can’t look though, Hoseok let me drive his.” Your dad liked to mess around with cars and you knew that given enough chance, he’d have been outside looking over your car already if you’d had it. It was the same car that you’d been driving since high school and it had been old even back then. Now, you were positive that you probably wouldn’t even be able to sell it anymore.

You knew damn well that Hoseok didn’t like it. His own car wasn’t new or anything but it was only five years old. Which meant it was less of a potential death trap than your own car was. He wasn’t hugely territorial about it and you’d driven it a few times already. It wasn’t much to admit that you loved driving it compared to yours.

“Ahh, you should bring it next time and let me have a look at it for you, flower. Although ideally, I hope you can afford to get a new one soon. I don’t like the idea of you driving that around, especially in winter.” Pouting at him, you play with Hoseok’s fingers before shrugging.

“I’d love to buy a new one dad, but I can’t. I am saving though, so I can at least buy one that's only a few years old soon enough. I’ve got my eye on a nice looking Hyundai that’s not too expensive, only four years old and some good mileage too.” He eyes you, lips pursing out before he’s pulling out his smartphone.

“Is there a link online?” Rolling your eyes, you take his phone and bring up the listing for the Hyundai you’d been keeping tabs on for the last month. You put away money each month into your savings account, hoping that you’d eventually one day get enough to put down a deposit on a house or something but you knew that you’d need a new car much sooner.

And you could almost afford to buy this car.

“Your dad calls you flower?” Hoseok whispers to you, smiling in amusement as you sit back, acknowledging the irony of your childhood nickname. Looking up at him, you chuckle and nod in acknowledgement, watching as your mom gets up to head into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink Hoseok?” She gives you a questioning look as well as you ask for a Coke, watching as Hoseok panics for a moment as he wonders what would be the best to drink to ask for. Grinning, you squeeze his hand affectionately and look back at your mom.

“You can have a beer if you want? I’m driving so I don’t mind.” You can see the wide eyed look of shock from Hoseok, the shock likely that you’re encouraging him to drink and possibly perpetuate his stereotype of being a heavy drinking metalhead. But you know your parents, so you just reassure him with a smile.

“Err...yeah, I mean...yes please. A beer would be nice, if you have one.” That gets a snort from your dad as your mom disappears, returning a minute later with your can of Coke and an opened bottle of Hoseok’s favourite beer. Watching intently, you can’t help but laugh at the confused look on his face as he accepts it carefully.

“Y/N told us what your favourite drink is. We wanted to make you a bit more comfortable.” 

It’s only then that Hoseok’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, lifting your hands up to gently push at your nose until you’re giggling at him, biting your lower lip. He doesn’t say anything though, simply takes a sip of beer before turning and giving your mom a gracious smile.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to-” He goes to say something else but your dad makes a noise, looking up at you both before gesturing to Hoseok sternly.

“We make sure our guests are comfortable in this house. It might not be much to look at, but we always look after our guests. Especially when they mean so much to Y/N.” Glancing at you, his gaze turns back to Hoseok whose cheeks flush slightly, his own gaze dropping from your dads to the neck of his bottle.

Well...you had told him that they were still proud people. 

Scooting forward, you slide off the sofa to situate yourself on the plush carpeted floor of the living room, making fussing noises to Harley who has stretched herself out on the floor in front of you. As you busy yourself with playing with your dog, you don’t notice the way your parents watch Hoseok in turn as he watches you.

“Y/N says that you’re in IT right? And you got that promotion the other month?” You don’t bother to look up, knowing that Hoseok can handle himself and trusting your parents to be as nice to him as they are to everyone else they’ve ever met. 

“Err, yeah. I err, I lead another team. It’s a little hard to describe as we have multiple sites but I’m now like, the manager of two of them. The bonus is more pay and responsibility, which will hopefully be good for my career. The downside is I’m busier...and more responsibility means more stress.” Leaning back against his leg, you look up at him from the floor.

“You’re doing good though. You manage your stress way better than I do.” You can’t quite see him properly from this angle but you do see his smile, pushing your head into his hand a little as he runs his fingers along your cheek.

“That’s debatable. I just...learnt a long time ago some coping methods to deal with it. I was in therapy throughout college. My sister died in a car accident and I developed some very unhealthy coping mechanisms afterwards for a few years. Therapy helped me and it still helps me today thankfully.” Without even realising it, you have one hand gripping onto his calf in an effort to soothe any upset he may have.

You still find it amazing how easily he’ll talk about his sister’s accident but you’re beyond thankful that he’s willing to open himself up like that to your parents. By being honest about such a traumatic event for him so young, he was showing them that he was more than just what he looked like. You hadn’t told him to tell them that story, nor had you even hinted at it. But you assumed that’s what he was doing.

Sure enough, your parents warm right up to him and begin asking him questions about not only his work but his life. And you get to spend the next few hours watching in pleasure as Hoseok relaxes in their company, becoming more like the Hoseok you’ve come to know and enjoy over the last few months.

You’re pretty positive your mom has been won over solely by his personality and good looks while your dad is more fascinated with Hoseok’s skills with computers. That and his tattoos. Hoseok had given you another betrayed look when your dad had shown him the tattoo on his upper left arm and you could almost hear the ‘you never told me’ in his eyes.

All in all though, it went very well and your own anxiety about introducing them all together ebbed away slowly as the evening went on. The dinner your mom cooked was delicious and you were beyond happy that she’d given you a bunch of leftovers in tupperware for your freezer. Hoseok had been equally ecstatic when she’d given him some too, though he’d handed them over to you given that he spent most of his time at yours.

You were positive that hadn’t gone unnoticed by them.

Finally though, it was 10pm and you were getting tired, head lolling on Hoseok’s shoulder as the television played out the film you’d all been watching. Harley was laid on your feet, keeping them warm and you could have happily just fallen asleep right there, content with your boyfriends arm around you and the gentle chatter of your parents.

But Hoseok was gently shaking you awake, an amused smile on his lips before he pressed them to your temple in a gentle kiss. “This is becoming a habit, miss.”

His teasing was light and gentle, but you just gave him a smile back, wiping at your eyes before blinking rapidly to wake them up. You hadn’t worn any makeup today, not seeing the need given all three people in this house had seen you without it plenty of times. 

One of the benefits that you hadn’t considered before was that Hoseok was eager to take your pictures, meaning that he’d volunteered himself to be your photographer and editor for your makeup Instagram. Now your pictures looked even better and it was all thanks to him and his fancy camera, but you knew that despite how much he liked your makeup, he preferred the natural girl he got to see most often.

“Mom, dad, we’re gonna head off now. Thank you for dinner and all the leftovers. And the cookies mom. I appreciate it all and I’m sure Kasumi will love her special homemade cat treats,” Your mom loved Kasumi and wanted to get a cat of her own. Whenever Harley went, you knew that she’d probably get a puppy and a kitten so they could grow up together. “But it’s late and I want to go to bed.”

Stretching, you grunt as your shirt rides up and Hoseok pokes your ribs gently, mischief present in his eyes and you scowl at him before poking at his stomach. Trust him to be wide awake while you’re a bit sleepy. Though he’s ever so slightly glassy eyed from the alcohol, meaning you need to wake up a bit more to drive home.

“You’re welcome, you know we love having you home. We loved meeting you too Hoseok and you’re welcome here anytime as well. With or without Y/N,” You can just imagine Hoseok’s face behind you right now. “We’re pretty open as you can tell and if you ever need us for anything, please just ask.”

“Okay mom, let’s not freak him out anymore okay? Thank you both, I’ll bring my car over soon dad.” Tugging on your shoes, you stand and slip your arms into the jacket Hoseok is holding up for you before bending down and fussing Harley.

“Don’t bother, I’ll give you what you’re missing for that Hyundai-” He holds his hand up when you go to protest, not wanting his charity but you know you’re not going to win given his stern look. “Given how much money we’ve put into that car you have now over the years, I’ll feel better just giving you this for that car and having the peace of mind to know you’re safe. So I’ll transfer it over to you and then I want you to go buy it. Don’t let yourself get ripped off flower, make sure you test drive it first and ask for a full history. Check it all out. Take Hoseok if you have to. I wish it wasn’t like this but you know that they’re less likely to be dicks if there’s a guy there. Especially one that looks like this.” 

With that, he puts a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder and grins. Your boyfriend eyes him for a moment before giving an answering nod, shrugging on his own leather jacket once your dad lets go of him.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get ripped off. Though she doesn’t need me to take care of her.” He looks at you then, lips quirked up in the corner before he kisses your forehead. “She’s got her homelife put together much better than me.”

“Yeah, that’s right dad. You hear that? I’m doing good. Not having to survive on ramen noodles or anything.” You grin, walking out of the door and turning round to accept the bag of leftover food your mom gives you. Hoseok heads over to the car, opening the passenger door before letting his arms rest on top of it.

“Yeah, sometimes she even makes box pasta.” Glaring at him, you point at him until he gets an innocent look and lifts up both hands, palm out before getting in the car. “That’s right mister, you just wait.”

“I like him.” Your dad says quietly, attracting your attention back to him and you grin, warmth and happiness overflowing inside you at his words. He can’t have any idea how much that means to you, to know that he approves of Hoseok.

“Me too. He’s nice and he obviously cares a lot about you. You’re happy right?” Nodding, you feel hot with embarrassment at the personal conversation with them and your mom laughs softly, reaching out and running her thumb over your cheek. “That’s all we want for you. Now go on, he’s looking impatient.”

“He just wants to see Kasumi, he loves her.” That makes both your parents laugh and you smile in turn, waving to them both as you head down the path to the car. Looking at Hoseok as he waves at your parents as well once you’re in the car, seat belt clicked into place and engine on, you let out a tiny sigh of relief.

One half of the meeting the parents completed. Now just for the other half.

[dual1pa]

late night swim

(gif isn’t mine)

A/N: Hi! This is my first time writing an Outer Banks imagine! Hope you like it :) requests are open for JJ requests!

Warnings: fluff, light smut

Word Count: 1.3k

Secretly dating a Pogue was tough. It was hard keeping a secret from your rich, privileged family. Yes, you were a Kook. You were more comfortable with your Pogue friends rather than your Kook friends: they all were so preppy wearing their Vineyard Vines button up shirts and kakis. You weren’t into it. You definitely preferred the Pogue lifestyle. And no, your parents didn’t know a thing and you planned on keeping it that way… at least for the time being. To meet up with your boyfriend, JJ, you would wait anxiously by your window and watch for him as he entered your backyard. Thankfully, your room was on the first floor so it was easy for you to get in and out quietly and safely. Sure, you could hang out with JJ and the rest of his friends daily, which you do. But it’s always fun to sneak out every night. The chance of getting caught macking on a cute blonde boy excited you. You had plans to tell your parents about JJ one day, you just didn’t know when that day would come. You desperately wanted your parents to be proud of you. You wanted them to accept the person you want to be with, and that person is JJ. A typical night with JJ would consists of heated make out sessions behind trees, walks around the neighborhood, or just ended up hanging out in your room. When you went out, you mostly stayed in the area of your house just in case something happened and you needed to get back in your room ASAP. You’ve been successful for weeks, you just hoped it stayed like that. - Once 12:00 A.M. hit, you were up and dressed waiting for JJ to come pick you up for another date night. You heard your phone ding, walking over you pressed on the notification. It was a text from JJ. “Wear a bathing suit under your clothes babe. Have an idea.” read the text. You bit your lip, trying to contain your smile. What did he have in mind tonight? You quickly changed into a black bikini and put on a pair of jean shorts and gray spaghetti strap tank top. Right on queue, JJ quietly knocked on your window. You turned off your lights and put some pillows underneath your sheets to make it look like you were asleep. You quietly opened the window and left it open just a crack so you could get back in. “Hi.” your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him in for a wet kiss. “Hello, beautiful. Did you get my text?” “‘course I did! Have on your favorite bikini on.” you lean forward, biting down on his lip. He moaned at your gesture. “What do you have planned, JJ?” He winked and grabbed your hand, walking through the green grass not telling you a thing. You walked hand in hand down the dark road. The only light sources were the dim street lights and the moon. You broke the silence, “So you’re really not gonna tell me where we’re going?” JJ shook his head, “Nope. It’s a surprise.” Once we got to the surprise location, he double checked his surroundings before leading you to a giant backyard with a pool. “JJ… what are we—“ He cut you off, “Shh…,” he put a finger to your lips, “Mr. Jannsen lives here alone and he’s definitely passed out by now. Figured we borrow his pool for a couple hours?” Mr. Jannsen is a retired realtor and he isn’t the nicest of people. His wife died a few years ago. Once that happened, he turned into a grump who only leaves the house for essentials. People rarely see him… ever. “JJ, we literally can’t be here!” you whispered, pulling him back. “We can be here… as long as we don’t get caught.” he winked. He kept glancing at the house to make sure no lights or movements were seen. “What if he’s awake! You don’t know!” You couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. Luckily, if you were to get caught, the houses were pretty far apart that it would be hard to hear someone yelling “GET OUT OF MY POOL!” “Oh will you relax? Actually, get into the pool and I’ll get you relaxed.” he pressed a quick kiss on your lips and walked over to the side of the pool. He dipped a toe into the pool. 

JJ scrapped his shirt and shorts and got into the pool first. The pool light, thankfully, automatically goes off and on every night. Thank God it wasn’t motion censored. Once he was comfortable with the cool temperature of the pool he stretched out his hand for you to hold onto as you stepped into the water. He watched as you stripped into your bathing suit. You twist your hair into a bun. Don’t want your hair getting wet, not tonight. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin. When you make it all the way into the water, you latch onto your boyfriend. His hands roam your back and eventually land on your ass. Your legs end up wrapped around his torso. He dunked his head underwater, his hair slicked back due to the weight of the water. 

You got off of him, now standing.“This is fun. The thought of us getting caught is kinda hot.” 

“We won’t get caught!” JJ said for probably the hundredth time. 

He carefully pushed you backwards till your back hit the wall. His hands explored your body. His lips attached to yours, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moan into his mouth, moving your face so his lips hit your cheek. His hands roam up to the back of your bikini. He began to untie the string. Your bathing suit becoming looser. His hands went up to massage your breasts. You were so into what he was doing until bright lights lit up the backyard. Both of you stop your actions immediately. 

“Shit!” JJ whispered. The two of you got out of the pool as fast as you could. 

You grabbed your clothes and ran to hide behind the thick bushes. The both of you breathing heavily as you watched the old man come onto his porch and look out into his backyard. 

“Whoever you were better be out of here before I come down there with my gun!” Mr. Jannsen warned. 

Luckily, he didn’t see specifically who it was. He turned off the lights once he thought the coast was clear. 

“Fuck! That was close.” you giggle. 

JJ helped you tie your bathing suit so you could put your clothes back on, JJ the same. The two of you walked hand in hand laughing at the new memory you would talk about forever.

 “Are you gonna come with us on the water tomorrow? Gonna be a beautiful day.” JJ asked, opening your window enough for you to sneak back in. 

“Sounds amazing. I’ll meet you at John B’s house around 11?” you asked, giving JJ one last hug before sliding back into your room. 

“Sure. I think most of us will still be asleep at that time, but I’ll make sure I’m awake. You know where I sleep.” he leans against your window sill.

 “Okay.” your lips close to his. He closes the space between you and pressed a sweet, wet and long kiss to your lips. 

This was the hardest part of the evening, saying goodbye. If it was possible, he would just sleep with you and leave early in the morning but the people who work in the garden and on the lawn come really early in the morning and it would be impossible to sneak him out.

 “Bye, baby. I love you.” he said. 

“Love you, too.” you blow him a kiss. You couldn’t wait until you saw JJ and the rest of the new tomorrow.  

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 13.5 OR Chapter 14

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warning: Implied smut

“You look so good tonight.”   “Yeah, right.” She scoffs, looking straight into his brown eyes and ignoring the way his hand fiddle with the cotton hem of her floral skirt. “Your little games won’t work on me, Chen.”   “And why not?”   “Because I know you.”   “Do you now?” He cocks a brow upwards, intrigued at her confidence.   “I know the minute you have your fun with me, you’d go onto your next target,” she whispers in a breath, sounding more sultry than angered or accusational. “And let me tell you something...I’m not that easy.”   “I think you’ve misunderstood,” he says and removes his hand back to his own lap. “I don’t care about my job. I don’t give a shit about any other girl. I just want you.”   It’s quiet for a moment as she rolls her eyes and looks out the window. But there’s nothing to see when the surroundings are blanketed in darkness. “You’re a good liar. I almost believed you for a second there.”   “That’s because I’m not lying.” He slides and leans closer to her, murmuring and letting his hot breath skim over the shell of his ear. His rough hand returns to her thigh, slowly moving upwards, skin brushing on skin. “There’s nothing I would rather do than to pin you to my bed and fuck you deep until you can’t walk straight.”   She swallows hard, rapid breaths leaving parted lips and the woman decides to dance with temptation. “...What else?”   “I’d bend you over my lap and spank you for all the times you misbehaved.” His lips nip at her jaw and down her neck, tongue peeking out to lap at her flesh and relishing in the way she visibly shivers and seems to melt in his touch and shivers. “I know you try to act like you’re bad. But you’re a good girl who would take my entire cock. You’d cream all over me and when I’m done, I’d push my cum right back inside of you. You would like that….wouldn’t you? For me to fuck my cum inside your tight, pink pussy?”   The female’s breathing becomes laboured and she locks her gaze with his. “What if I told you I wasn’t wearing any underwear…”   “Then I’d take you right here, right now.”   It’s instantaneous. The two of them tug each other until their lips are smacking. They pull one another close, moaning as their kiss deepens and a soft groan leaves his chest at her taste. His hand comes up to tease her upper thigh and she gasps when he nibbles on her bottom lip.   It’s hot and heavy, full of obscene sounds and gasps that echo in the small space.   When they part, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects their swollen lips. She’s hyperventilating, the strap of her dress falling off her shoulder. “Th-this…...this isn’t right. What about your fiancée?”   “It doesn’t matter.” He’s eager, taking off his seat belt and holding her again. “I want you. I only want you.”   They kiss each other again, more intense this time, and he’s ready to pull her to straddle his lap, over the bulge forming in his pants….but then there’s a noisy clearing of the throat.   It’s obnoxious, sounding like you’re coughing up a chicken bone lodged in your esophagus.   You’re tightly gripping the steering wheel, sweating from your hairline, and glancing into the rear-view mirror every other second. You really, really don’t appreciate how they act like you’re an inanimate object, like you’re not less than a meter away from them and you can hear everything. You can see everything. And at this rate, you’re about to go blind.   It’s a massive distraction. You can’t even imagine what would happen if your mom found out you died after crashing your cab because your passengers were having sex and you couldn’t keep your eyes on the road — you’re sure that’s a new level of patheticness.   “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you can’t do that here!”   He parts away from her in annoyance and shouts at you, “Just get us to the destination, lady!”   The man is adamant about continuing and you slam on the brakes, jolting the entire vehicle forward as the tires shriek against the asphalt, causing them both to scream, and you park at the curb.   The couple cuss up a storm, and you rip off your seat belt to turn around. “No.”   This is where you draw the line. You’ve put up with a lot before, but you can’t allow stains on your seats or the horrible smell that would linger once they’re long gone. “I am not going to let you have sex in the backseat of my taxi! I’m trying to drive! I’m sorry! But no!”   He’s frustrated, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. The guy is desperate for a good dicking, you understand that, but he needs to understand your situation too.   Before you can get another word in, he digs into his pants, pulling out a wallet in his pocket. The male throws a few crumpled bills at your face and they land in your palms that you brought out on pure reflex. It’s three hundred dollars in cash.   “There. Is that enough?”   They become impatient at your extended silence, but there’s an entire debate going inside your mind. Are you really going to throw your dignity away? The answer is — “Make it quick.”   Yes…   Yes, you are.   You end up outside at two in the morning in the freezing cold. Every time you exhale, you can see your breath, a cloud of condensation created and floating up to the real clouds. There’s a faint light from a lamppost a few meters away, but it’s effort of providing luminescence is weak. You’re left at the side of the empty road, surrounded in darkness.   You pull out your phone to play a game until your hands begin to crack and shake from the frigid temperature, and you’re forced to bury them in your pockets. Your lips splinter, chapped at the corners, cheeks made numb, nose dripping, and frost nips at your skin. If you had known you’d be standing outside, you would’ve brought a warmer coat. But alas, you accept your situation, kicking rocks underneath your foot, shivering and trying to think of other things aside from how dark and cold it is.   Behind you, the car begins to shake and rattle like there’s an earthquake happening inside. You can hear the throaty moans and groans, causing you to hum loudly to yourself to block it out. It lasts for thirty minutes since they take their good old time enjoying themselves. And by the time you’re able to enter again, you sneeze for the fifth time.

Jung Hoseok isn’t sure what’s wrong with him.   Every morning is a routine for him. The moment he wakes up, he finds himself walking into work a mere hour later. He’s always in a fresh, crisp suit, wearing dark loafers and carrying a briefcase. It’s the same day in and day out, the daily grind of working that brings purpose to his life. But for some godforsaken reason, today, there’s a bouquet of limp baby’s breath in his other hand.   They were on sale.   It was too good of a deal to let go. And sure, it looks like he grabbed a fistful of weeds from someone’s lawn, but they were pretty up close. Though he honestly doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s certain that he shouldn’t just waltz up into the office with a bouquet like this. Or maybe he can put it in his office, maybe he can give them to Lisa and tell her to find a vase or—   You.   You’re walking ahead of him, cutting through the lobby towards the elevators. If he calls out your name, you would stop to turn around. If he picked up his pace, he could make it on time….   Quickly, he turns to the nearest person beside him. “Here.”   Hoseok shoves the baby breaths to the lady security guard at the front door instead of trashing them. The older woman is taken off guard and she glances down, before staring at his face, and then she takes them. “T-Thank you?”   She’s in complete shock that the infamous Jung, known for being brutal and an asshole, has given her flowers. In the next seconds, the surprise morphs into awe and she’s touched, putting a hand over her chest, mouth still wide open. But Hoseok doesn’t pay any attention and only gives a firm nod, eyes diverted off to you. “Keep up the good work.”   When the compliment that acts as an explanation is said and done, he takes off, quick steps and wide strides until he’s practically running. Everyone turns around to gawk, moving out of the way and absolutely bewildered at how the usually composed lawyer is sprinting in the lobby. “Y/N! Y/N!”   You hear his voice, automatically pressing the button to keep the elevator doors open. Hoseok appears with a grin on his face and you stare at him, blinking once. “What’s wrong?”   “No, nothing.” He catches his breath, stepping into the elevator and watching as the door shuts. Hoseok steals a glance at you. “Good morning.”   “Morning.” You hold back a laugh, but it still bubbles out. “Why are you so energetic today?”   “What do you mean?”   Your finger lifts to point to his head. “You’re sweating.”   “No, I’m not.” The lawyer sulks and then tries to fix his hair that he feels is flopping onto his forehead. He tries to look into the polished silver of the metal walls, but the reflection is too blurred.   You sigh. “Here, let me.” And reaching up, you comb his bangs back into place. “There we go.”   The doors part when the elevator stops at the correct level and you walk out. Hoseok is left lingering in a delayed moment, caught off guard, and he scrambles out before the elevator can start moving again. “Your voice sounds kind of hoarse,” he comments.   “Really?” You forcibly clear your throat several times, ignoring how it aches. “Better?”   “A bit. Did you catch a cold?”   “I don’t know...” The pair of you slow down once you enter the office floor, making your way down the hallway towards your personal offices, past reception where Lisa and Dahyun are already answering calls.   “You should take medicine if you are,” he takes a peek at you and then looks away. “Wouldn’t want you to infect anyone else in the firm.”   “Don’t worry, you won’t catch whatever I have,” you tease, even when he mutters something along the lines of ‘that’s not what I mean’. For some reason, Hoseok seems tense and he stops right in front of your closet of an office like he’s dropping you off at your front door. There’s an awkward silence. “I’m going in now.” You turn your body slightly, hitching your thumb over your shoulder.   “Right,” he nods. “I’ll see you later then.”   Hoseok walks the way he came from, going straight into the office and shutting the door.   As a violent sneeze leaves you, making your head ache, you wonder if he’s really the sick one and not you.   //   The clock is slower than it should be. Perhaps it’s broken and he should call someone up to fix it again. But then it doesn’t explain why his computer and phone have the same exact time on it. Hoseok feels as if the seconds are being drawn out, five minutes turned into fifty, an hour is a whole day. The universe warps around him and it’s not because work is especially boring.   “I’m going downstairs.” Yoongi pokes his head through the door. “Want anything?”   “Why are you sucking up to me?” Hoseok flips the page, trying to get the documents in order for a court hearing tomorrow. “Are you trying to get that additional vacation day?”   The lawyer smirks. “Maybe.”   “I don’t need anything.” Suddenly, a thought crosses his mind and he pauses, movements stopping. Jung Hoseok lifts his head and stands up, chair pushed back haphazardly. “Wait. I’ll come with you.”   “Sounds good.”   They walk down the hallway together and Hoseok’s eyes stray off to the end. “What’s Y/N doing?”   “I don’t know.” Yoongi’s steps slow, still retaining his impassive expression despite being thrown the odd question. “Want me to go ask?”   “No, no, it’s fine.” They continue forward, entering the elevator as he buries his hands in his dress pants pockets. “She has a cold, that’s all.”   “If you cared about your employees spreading their colds, maybe you should be more lenient with those sick days,” he mutters from the corner of his mouth passive aggressively, making Hoseok smile while he watches the numbers of the elevator decrease.   “You’re not getting that extra vacation day, Yoongi. I’m not paying you to sleep at home.”   The corner coffee shop in the downstairs lobby isn’t too busy at this time of day, between the morning bustle and lunchtime. The two men join the line-up with Yoongi ahead, ordering a blueberry muffin with his drink and a strudel that Sunyi ordered. When it comes to Hoseok’s turn, he only takes a mere glance at the menu.   “I’ll take two regular coffees please.”   He taps his card on the machine, moving to the other counter to wait for his drinks. Yoongi’s chewing on his muffin, cheek puffed out, and brow lifted. “You’re drinking two?”   “Mhm…” He hums, not giving a direct answer.   Three minutes later and some small talk made, the hot drinks come out. Yoongi moves to the station to pour in his preferred creams and sugars while the other male is left staring motionlessly at the two cups in his hands. A worker stares at him, wondering if he’s a statue.   Hoseok stays completely still, staring, not blinking, like he’s transfixed or daydreaming about something else and no longer a part of reality.   His friend finally turns, confused at his bizarre behaviour. “Hoseok?”   “Why would she want coffee if she’s sick?” He mutters to himself and trashes the coffee in his left hand, letting it fall to the bottom of the garbage can.   “Hey.” Yoongi catches up with him as he walks off and whines, “That was perfectly good coffee. Why did you throw it? You could’ve given it to me.”   “No.”   “Are you okay?”   “I’m fine,” he brushes him off.   Except, he’s not. Jung Hoseok is going absolutely insane and at this rate, he might have to admit himself into the hospital to figure out what’s going on. He can’t concentrate on work at all. It’s like something is bothering him. He’s constantly looking up and out of his office like a hyperactive child or a criminal who’s fearful of the police. And it’s all because of you.   He stares every time you walk past his office towards the kitchen and it’s to the point where you have to ask if he’s okay, to which he tells you it’s nothing. A lot of people have been asking that lately — if he’s alright or not. Hoseok doesn’t know what the truthful answer is anymore.   Every little action you do, he has an overwhelming urge to watch. Every little word you say, he’s hanging onto every syllable. He frowns at how many times you sneeze, overhears you ask Inyoung where the tissue boxes are, and as your voice becomes more and more nasally as the day goes by, Hoseok gets driven more and more mad.   He feels like one massive creep. He feels absolutely pathetic. But he can’t stop and he’s going insane because of it. You’re like a fly circling around his head that he just can’t swat away or get rid of. The funny thing is….it’s not even you. It’s just thoughts of you.   “Hoseok!”   He jumps at the shout of his name, startled. His eyes stray off to the brunette man standing at his doorway with his arms crossed. “What? You scared me!”   “I called you five times. Are we going out to lunch or what?”   “Y-yeah...sorry.”   “Are you working on a difficult case?” Jimin tips his head to the side. “You seem so out of it.”   “I’m fine,” he repeats as if he’s trying to convince no one but himself.   The two men eat together in a quaint restaurant that serves lunch. Jimin insists that bonding time is necessary to maintain their relationship since they’re the foundation of the firm. Hoseok thinks that his partner is higher maintenance than an actual significant other.   Jimin orders his lunch and Hoseok makes his order as well, but before the waitress can skedaddle off to the kitchen, he stops her. “Could I actually get soup too? The chicken noodle. To go?”   “Certainly.”   “Soup?” Jimin asks him after she’s left and looks doubtful. “I thought you told me soup was watered down baby food.”   “It is,” the lawyer states confidently, masking his true intentions with an air of nonchalance.   Yet, Jimin is stubborn in nature and doesn’t give up so easily, especially when his curiosity is piqued. “Is it for you or someone else?”   “....None of your business.”   He’s amused at how childish his partner is being. The brunette lawyer threads his fingers together and props his hands under his chin, elbows to the table as he stares at the person across from him with mischief glimmering in his brown orbs. “Really? I think it is.”   “Me ordering soup is your business?”   “Your business is my business.” Jimin grins. “Since we run a business together.”   Hoseok sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Sometimes, I wonder why I chose you as my partner.”   “I chose you,” he reminds with a soft giggle. “And you love me.”   “Yeah, you’re right,” Hoseok admits with only a small ounce of sarcasm. “I love you and maybe we should just get married.”   “In your dreams.” His smile widens. “I’m expensive, you know. You won’t be able to keep up with me. My ass is out of your league.”   There’s bubbling laughter that leaves his chest. “You can’t say you’re expensive when you were part of a hugging club and wore a sign to hug random people on the street. I don’t even want to know what kind of diseases you contracted.”   He giggles too, eyes crinkling as he defends himself, “It’s not as bad as you. You used to kiss everyone!”   “On the top of their heads and on their foreheads.” Hoseok pouts, lips cutely downturning and jutting out. The two of them don’t care about the heads that turn to stare at them.   “Doesn’t make it any better!”   “Don’t you love my affection, Minnie? I love you, remember?”   “Please stop,” Jimin begs. The roles have completely reversed, tables have turned, and once more someone’s at Hoseok’s mercy. “Go back to being serious and weird, okay? Don’t act cute. It creeps me out.”   Hoseok quirks his head to the side and bats his lashes. “I thought you were the one who wanted to get married to me.”   “I never said that,” he points out. “No offence, but I can’t be with someone so nitpicky and naggy and overly organized.”   “So, you admit you live in a dump?”   “An expensive dump.”   They banter back and forth as usual until the food arrives. Halfway through the meal, the waitress comes back with his warm soup in a styrofoam container, plastic spoon and a napkin all prepared in the plastic bag. Jimin continues to talk about what’s been going on with his life, but Hoseok becomes distracted. He’s quiet, eyes staring at the object on the table beside him.   “No…” He shakes his head, muttering underneath his breath, barely being coherent. “No..it’s too weird.”   “What’s weird? Wait.” Jimin watches as his partner tears off the top of the container and begins chugging the soup. “You’re eating it? Right now?”   Hoseok doesn’t say a single thing, brooding to himself, ingesting it all while Park Jimin remains absolutely bewildered. When it’s empty, he wonders what the hell he just did. He’s an idiot. And now he’s too full to move.   12:46pm. Hoseok: Have you eaten yet?   12:46pm. Y/N: just finished 12:46pm. Y/N: why?   The lawyer lets out a sigh of relief, thankful that he didn’t end up giving it to you. It would’ve been unbearably awkward. He can imagine holding the bag out to you or leaving it on your desk, only for you to bring it back to him and tell him that you already had lunch.   12:47pm. Hoseok: nothing 12:48 pm. Hoseok: are you feeling better?   12:48pm. Y/N: im ok   12:48 pm. Hoseok: you can go home early 12:49 pm. Hoseok: if you need to   He sits on the edge of his seat, resisting the urge to nibble on his fingernails. He waits for a response and waits and waits. Hoseok can see the dots appearing on his screen signaling that you’re texting him back, but he wonders why it’s taking so long, and the anticipation grows and grows.   12:52 pm. Y/N: you’re not getting rid of me so easily   “Why are you smiling to yourself?” Jimin asks before sipping on his water and letting his narrow eyes pin onto the man past the rim of the glass. “And who are you texting?”   “No one.” Hoseok clears his throat, setting his phone down. He makes eye contact with the waitress who is preparing the bill.   “Uh-huh. Doesn’t seem like no one.”   “You’re acting like we’re really married.”   “If we are, I want a divorce.” They laugh, both divorce lawyers pretending to argue about the settlement and how to divide their assets while the waitress can’t conceal her mortified expression, believing that it’s legitimate.   Back at the firm, Hoseok beelines straight into his office when Lisa informs him there’s a client on the line. But Jimin hangs back and his eyes meet Yoongi’s who’s happens to be strolling around.   “Don’t you think he’s acting weird these days?”   “He’s always been weird.” Yoongi is at the copier, deciding to give Seulgi a break from having to make copies from him every five minutes. He fiddles with the buttons until the machine is whirring to life and spitting out the correct pages.   “But like...especially.”   “You don’t seem that concerned.”   And he isn’t. Jimin’s entertained. “No, I’m not.”   “He seems more panicked and anxious these days,” Yoongi insightful comments. “But happier.”   “I agree.” The lawyer nods and pats his employee on the back before leaving, eyeing your office as he makes his way to his own.   You and Jimin share a lot in common, but one of those things are that you two are the few that remember Hoseok as being very hyper and outgoing. It’s only work that turns his bright nature ten notches down and makes him serious. Jimin muses that his partner has been quite calm these past few years, but it seems like only you can get under his skin.   //   “Y/N? I..uh..stopped by—”   There’s no one in your office.   Hoseok waits in the small room for a second as an exhausted exhale leaves the seams of his lips. The work day is over. It’s five o’clock. But your belongings are still here, so you haven’t left yet. You’re not gone, but his timing wasn’t right — his timing is never right.   Reluctantly, he places the new tissue box that he bought on your desk, right in front of the keyboard. And the man lingers a few moments before walking out. A part of him feels uncomfortable. Hoseok wished he could’ve seen you one last time before leaving for the day.

[filmflowersbangtan]

Lonely Planets

part ii - “The Loneliest Planet in the Universe”

pairing: Hoseok x reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst

word count: 7.9k

warnings: car sex, fingering, squirting, hana

a/n: it’s finally here, guys! Sorry for the wait

--

An entire week passed since your time with Hoseok, and you hadn’t seen him once. It felt like the longest week of your life. He plagued your every thought: his smile, his laugh, the way his hair fell over his forehead when he ran his fingers through it. The way his eyes soaked up the sunlight. His mouth on yours. His fingers in your hair, on your skin, on your –

You sighed out in frustration, but you bit your lip to suppress the secret smile that was creeping on your face. Thinking of him made you equal parts irritated but pleasantly lightheaded. Irritated because you itched to see him again. Lightheaded because he was like one of those dreams where you were falling and flying at the same time – fascinating and exhilarating. He was your very first time, and you couldn’t believe that you gave it up to a guy that you’d probably never see again, but you were happy that it was with him. He made you feel safe, comfortable, and beautiful. No one has ever made you feel that way. No one has ever made you feel wanted.

The campus was enormous, and you didn’t have any classes with him, so you knew that there was a slim chance that you would see him again. Numbers weren’t exchanged. You didn’t even know what his last name was. It was just a one-night stand. Nothing special. No strings attached.

Then why was he contaminating every other thought that made its way through your mind? 

You pulled down the cap on your head so that it fit a little bit tighter in a futile attempt at clearing your mind. Study material was set out in front of you and your laptop screen had been on a blank document for nearly an hour. You had come to the library to focus because being in the dorm made it easier to be distracted, and this paper wasn’t going to write itself but it didn’t seem like you were going to get any work done.

Mentally exhausted, you rubbed your eyes with the tips of your fingers and fought off a yawn. You were sitting at a secluded table in the back. Study groups talked quietly around you in hushed voices. The girl a table over had earbuds in and was tapping away at her laptop intensely. You wished that you could have that level of concentration. After another fifteen minutes of staring at a blank screen, you packed your things and left.

The campus was lush with the greenery of late summer. Students lounged around on vivid green lawns that were cut to perfection. The walkways were lined with vibrant flowers and a butterfly lazed on the petal of a neon pink petunia. The breeze was cool but not chilly, an ideal match for a sunny, cloudless day. You wondered why you didn’t study outside more, especially if it was a day like this.

You slowed your pace to enjoy the weather and tugged off your cap to let the wind comb its fingers through your hair. For the first time in a while, you felt completely unburdened.

“Y/N?”

The voice sliced through your reverie, and you stopped. Hana was standing on the walkway opposite you, twisting her fingers together and looking as beautiful as ever. Even more so with the wind in her pink hair and glitter makeup under her eyes. That soft spot that you had for her and her wide, puppy-like eyes twitched slightly. You weren’t angry at her anymore for what she said before. You were more tired than angry. Yes, her words stung for a while, but you did miss her a lot. She was your best friend for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t just abandon her after one petty fight.

“Hey,” you said, gripping the strap of your backpack a little tighter.

There was a breath of ugly, awkward silence. Hana was still twisting her fingers hard enough to rip them apart, biting her lip and aching for something to say. But there was nothing to talk about. The both of you had gone your separate ways. Hana made that clear on move-in day. You were standing on the stone walkway fringed with flowers with a slight distance between the two of you, enough for people to weave through as if you were rocks hindering the course of a river. She looked at everything but your face, searching the air for words to say. An apology, maybe?

“Do you want to go to a café and catch up?” she said after she mustered the courage to speak.

Everything inside of you screamed “no!” Another, smaller part of you that sounded strangely similar to Irene said, “Say something cruel to her like she did to you.” But you were you, so you said, “Sure. That doesn’t sound too bad.”

The walk to the café was so uncomfortably awkward that your skin felt tight with it. Hana was usually talkative, chattering so much without giving you any room to speak that the best you could do was nod and hum affirmations. But she wasn’t talking. She simply walked beside you with an uncharacteristic slouch in her shoulders.

At the café, you sat at a table outside in the sun and ordered anything that didn’t taste like coffee, and Hana had a specific order with numerous steps to it. Once the waitress was gone, another blanket of silence settled upon the both of you.

“So,” you started, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. The surface was slightly sticky with syrup. “How’s the past few weeks been?”

She beamed, her eyes lighting up like she just remembered something delightful, and that’s how you knew the old Hana was back. Her unnatural silence probably stemmed from her thinking that you were angry with her. “Do you remember that guy that I was telling you about? Hope?”

The name rang a bell. “Yeah… The fuckboy?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not really a fuckboy. He’s actually kind of sweet. He just fucks around a lot.”

You bit your tongue to stifle a snarky remark. You didn’t want her getting defensive again.

She smiled from ear to ear and tucked a bubble gum pink tress of hair behind her ear that was quickly blown back into her face by the breeze. “Well, I did it. I finally got him to notice me. We were at a party, and he usually disappears within the first hour – probably with a girl or something – but I quickly caught him before he left. He didn’t know who I was, but I introduced myself and then we talked for a bit and then we were making out and I took him back to my dorm and we fucked.”

You blinked and glanced around to see if anyone overheard. Hana was never the type to censor herself, no matter the situation. Once, she gushed about giving a guy a blowjob at your aunt’s baby shower. That granted you both a few disgusted looks from your family members.

“Well, congrats,” you said dully. You knew your friend was very promiscuous – she always had been – and you never had a problem with it, but you hadn’t noticed how shallow she was. Did she really think that having sex with a guy that had sex with anyone was the key to his heart? Was becoming her sorority’s Dream Girl really that important? To you, none of it made sense, but it was important to Hana and you had to be supportive since you were her friend.

Hana paused. Her smile faltered and there was a dull look in her eye. “You’re being judgy again.”

“Judgy?” you emphasized. She had that tone in her voice that she was getting ready for a fight, the same way that she did back in her dorm a few weeks ago.

“Yeah. Judgy. Like you’re too good and innocent to be friends with me or something.”

You frowned, taken aback. “What are you talking about? All I’m doing is listening to you. You know, like a friend usually does.” When did you two ever bite at each other’s necks like this? Why was she always so defensive lately, like everything you said was an attack?

The waitress appeared with your drinks. She quickly set them down on the table before disappearing, wary of the tension hovering between you and Hana.

Hana took a sip of her drink and sighed. “Sorry. I’m – I’ve just been going through a lot. Suzy has been really mean to me, even more after she found out that I had sex with Hope… I think she’s in love with him or something, but that can’t be right because Hope doesn’t settle down. If the rumors are right, he’s never had a girlfriend before.” She sighed again and took your hands in hers over the table, squeezing them. “I’m so glad that I’m finally able to tell you this. I’ve missed you so much. I feel like you’re my only true friend.” She was staring right into your eyes as she said this, her eyes sincere.

“I missed you, too,” you admitted solemnly. You didn’t want to say that to anyone. Not even yourself. Hana had not been a great friend to you these past few weeks, but you did miss her.

She smiled. She knew how disarming and gorgeous her smile was. “So, what have you been up to? Something exciting, I hope?” There was a flash in her eyes like she was expecting a specific response.

After the night that you spent with Hoseok, Hana was the first person that you wanted to tell. She was your best friend. You told each other everything. But now that she was here across from you, holding your hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about that night. It was like a dream that was so spectacular that there was no way that you could shape it into words to tell someone else. Like if you told another soul, the magic of it would fade away and it would just be an ordinary one-night stand. Maybe it was just an ordinary one-night stand, but it felt like so much more than that. Simply thinking of it now made that hole in your chest swell to the brim with an emotion you couldn’t understand. So, you decided to keep that night a secret. “Nothing. I’ve just been studying. Leading a boring, virgin life,” you said. You didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but it came out that way and Hana’s eyes hardened for a moment.

She opened her mouth and closed it a few times the way that she usually did when she wanted to ask you something but weren’t sure how you would react to it. She furrowed her brows and looked down at your intertwined hands, concentrating on how to word her question. “But that day… I saw you at the Kappa Pi house. Why were you there?”

That’s where this was all going. She didn’t actually want to make up with you. She wanted to know why you were at the frat dressed in tiny shorts and a sheer tank top with smeared makeup and fucked out hair. That was why she didn’t apologize for what she said to you that day in her dorm. Because she wasn’t sorry.

Your throat tightened with that familiar knot of betrayal. “I met someone. That’s all.”

“Who?”

You snatched your hands away from hers. “Is that what this is about? You don’t actually want to be my friend again, do you, Hana? God, I don’t know why I was ever friends with you.”

To your surprise, there was a genuine expression of hurt on her face. “I’m only asking because I know you, Y/N. I know that you don’t sleep around and I just want to make sure that you’re not fucking with the wrong guy, that’s all. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.” She sounded so much like the old Hana, the Hana that you knew in high school, that it made your heart ache.

You glanced down at the drink that you ordered. The whipped cream was melting. You had no interest in drinking it. You felt like shit. “I’m sorry,” you said. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. College has been such a mess so far.”

“It’s okay,” Hana said. “It’s been a mess for me, too.”

You smiled, and she smirked back.

“I hate fighting with you,” she said, poking her lip out a little. “I miss the old us.”

You’re the one that wanted to change, you thought, but you smothered that notion down into the depths of your heart.

“Me, too.”

She reached over the table and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear like she used to do whenever she would try to soothe you. “I have class soon, so I have to go, but text me later?”

“Of course.”

She smiled and grabbed her purse and drink. She gave you a little wave before leaving. It wasn’t until after she was gone that you realized that she never apologized for what she said before. You weren’t sure why you were so hung up on that. You should grow up and get over it. But her words still pulsed under your skin like a bruise that couldn’t heal.

And you wonder why no one wants to date you. Let alone fuck you.

Despite the warmth of the sunlight on your skin, you suddenly felt cold.

--

The dorm was uncomfortably warm due to the heat wave that rolled over the city, and you happened to live in the one building with broken air conditioning. You were at your desk, a mini fan whirring in your direction and pitifully typing up your paper.

Irene kept up her all-black attire despite the heat. She was sliding her dark hair into a sleek ponytail and snapping at Taehyung. “It’s too hot for you to want to cuddle,” she was saying as she perfected the hairdo without a mirror. Her hair rolled under her hands like water. You didn’t have to look at Taehyung to know that he was pouting.

He sat down on her bed with a dramatic flair and turned to you. “Hey, Anti,” he said.

You didn’t bother looking up, typing away at the paper that was due next week. “I have a name.”

He ignored that statement. “Wanna come to another party with us?”

Irene was tying her sneakers, yanking at the laces like they’ve wronged her somehow. “I’m not going to be searching for your ass this time, Anti. I swear to God.”

You tapped backspace because you spelled out the word “anti” instead of “and.” “I have a name.”

Taehyung laughed. “Yeah, but nicknames are cooler.”

You glanced up at him from over the screen of your laptop. “Only if the nickname is welcome.”

He grinned at you, large and endearing. You couldn’t help the smile that fought its way onto your face. “God, you and Irenie are so similar.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard, and Irene straightened up from tying her other shoe. “No way,” you both said in eerie unison. Your eyes met and then you both averted them awkwardly.

Taehyung stood and threw his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders. Counting on his fingers, he said, “You both don’t like people, you both are blunt and you both are awkward as hell.”

Irene frowned and shoved him. He giggled and stumbled backwards, his hip bumping into her desk that you never witnessed her use. “We’re nothing alike.”

“Yeah, Taehyung. I’m not goth,” you said, a tease in your tone. Taehyung erupted with laughter.

“Fuck you,” said Irene, but there was a smile on her mouth that made you smile as well. “And fuck you, Tae. It really wasn’t that funny.”

He made a kissy face at her and she rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. He leaned back onto the desk turned to you, intent on getting you to go to another party. “Irenie gets out of work at ten, so if you want to go to the party, be ready by then. Oh, that rhymed.”

The thought of going to another one of those parties wasn’t very attractive to you. “Nah. I’ll stay in this time. You guys go have fun,” you said.

Irene checked her appearance in the mirror on the back of the closet door. “Whatever. Suit yourself.” She grabbed her purse. Taehyung pushed himself off the desk.

“It’s never too late to say yes,” he was saying as he trailed behind his girlfriend. He pulled the door closed, but it didn’t stick because he was never violent enough with it.

It was too hot for the door to be shut anyway. This dorm was a sauna. You went to the library since it had the best air conditioning and being alone brought thoughts of Hoseok bubbling back up to the front row seat of your consciousness.

It seemed like half of the campus had the idea to come to the library to escape the heat. Every table was crowded with students, and there was the dull hum of several overlapping conversations. You were hidden among two tall bookshelves, searching for something to wrap your mind around. Words were easier to lose yourself into than movies. Words, you had to think about, and that would allow you to purge all thoughts of Hoseok – at least for a little while.

You wondered if he thought about you as much as you pondered over him. He probably forgot about you. Moved on. Maybe you were just another notch on his belt. There was a sharp pang in your chest at the thought of that, but you shook it off.

You ran your forefinger over the spines of the old books, carefully reading the titles for anything that stood out to you. As you walked, you heard a few girls silently squeal at a nearby table.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you finally did it!” whispered shouts were saying. “You finally fucked Hope? After you’ve been chasing him for how many weeks?”

Hana’s voice was distinguishable among the girls. It was the voice that you heard every day in high school. You weren’t surprised that she was telling anyone that would listen about her time that Hope guy. It was a little sad how she thought of her time with the fuckboy like it was a storybook romance. “He really is as good as everybody says. I came, like, three times.”

This called for another bout of squeaks from the girls, and you rolled your eyes. You hoped that you never crossed paths with this infamous “Hope” guy. It was appalling that a guy could just sleep his way through campus and become popular for it. It was immature, honestly.

“Psst.” The whisper was coming from your left. You turned your head, and like a dream, there was the boy that had been plaguing your mind for the past two weeks. There was that smile, the one that had buried itself under your skin ever since you first saw it sitting on his face, lazy and confident. He had his hands in the pockets of his shorts, and he was looking at you with those dark eyes that made it hard for you to breathe.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming close to you. You could smell his soap and gentle cologne. The pit of your stomach fluttered with skittish butterflies. “That day, where’d you go?”

“I…” you said, but your brain forgot what words were.

He chuckled softly, the smile reaching his eyes charmingly. He leaned forward and kissed you on your cheek. You blinked in shock. Heat crept up your neck. “Did you forget about me?” He was watching your mouth, anticipating the words before they had the chance to form.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. You tried to whisper, but you barely made any noise. “I couldn’t even if I tried.”

Another smile graced his face. He brought his fingers up and brushed some hairs that escaped the bun you threw hastily on the top of your head earlier. Goosebumps crawled up your forearms. You wanted him to touch you again the way he did that morning you spent with him. You wanted him to swallow your moans and to kiss your throat and to suck plum purple bruises into your collarbone.

You wet your bottom lip; your mouth had suddenly gone dry. He was still watching your mouth, a man entranced. He was leaning down, tilting his head, but then another squeal emitted from the girls beyond the bookshelves.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” a girl was saying.

Hana answered, but you weren’t listening. You were watching Hoseok, waiting for his mouth to reach yours, your fingers twitching anxiously. But Hoseok was frozen now, his eyes wide.

“Um,” he said, glancing nervously in the direction of the zealous girls as if he could see them through the books. “I can’t stay long. I have to go. But” – he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, handing it over to you – “Can I have your number? So we can see each other more?”

You took the phone and saved your number in his contact list. He was backing away slowly when you returned the device, and everything inside of you was screaming “don’t go.” It was like a mantra, chanting in your head to the same rhythm as your sporadic heartbeat.

“I’ll text you later,” he said. He touched two fingers to his forehead with a wink in a casual salute, and then he disappeared behind a bookshelf, taking your senses with you.

--

It was almost nine PM when your cellphone glowed with an oncoming text. Your skin was dotted with cooling sweat. You were back in your dorm, watching a movie on your laptop and suffering in the dull heat in the thinnest tank top and shortest pair of shorts that you owned. The door and the window was open, but no breeze wafted in.

Miserable, you glanced at the duo of text messages that came in.

Unknown [6:38 PM] hey, it’s hoseok

Unknown [6:38 PM] what are you doing tonight

Your heart leapt into your throat and you could feel your heartbeat everywhere.

The thing that was strange about Hoseok was that you knew next to nothing about him other than the fact that he was in a fraternity and that he had a good taste in movies. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to hastily text him back, telling him that you didn’t have a schedule. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to hastily shower and throw on a pair of your best jeans and the prettiest shirt that you owned when he told you to meet him at the library after it closed. But it was like an out-of-body experience. Like you watched yourself do these things.

He was waiting for you at the library’s main doors, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. The sun was a scarlet afterthought on the horizon, and the campus was barren due to it being a Friday night and everyone either sleeping in or drinking their livers away.

“Hey,” you said to him. You were a little out of breath because you rushed over, not wanting to be late.

“Hey,” he said with a smile. A warm sensation crackled in your chest like someone ignited a sparkler under your skin. “You up for a drive?”

He led you to the parking lot on the east side of the library where a sleek, candy apple red muscle car awaited. It was both fitting and somewhat uncharacteristic for Hoseok. He seemed like an easy guy, someone who would drive a convertible with the top down and the music loud, but you had to remind yourself that you didn’t know him at all.

“First stop, snacks,” Hoseok said, shifting the car into drive.

The car was an older model, and it growled as he drove it like it was a living beast. The convenience store wasn’t far from campus. Its stark white fluorescent lights glared through the windows, enticing insomniacs or sleepy students pulling all-nighters. You and Hoseok stalked through the aisles of colorful candy and chip packaging, him stopping every other step to pick something from the shelf.

“Get anything you want. I’ll cover it,” he said nonchalantly as he scoured the coolers for something until his eyes lit up with glee. The glass door whooshed when he opened it and the chilly air seeped out. There was a heart drawn in the moisture of the glass by someone previous. “I fucking love chocolate milk.” He reached inside and grabbed a pale brown bottle, adding it to his armful of goods.

With three plastic bags full of snacks and drinks, you climbed back into the car.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” he asked you as he toyed with the radio. The road was flanked with a thick growth of trees that whipped past in the dark. No streetlights and no other car in sight. There was only the steady humming of tires on the road.

“A little bit of everything.” You didn’t want to ask where he was taking you. You wanted to be surprised.

“Do you like rap?”

“I listen to it casually.”

There was a smirk on his face as he tuned the radio to a classic hip hop station, and you both listened to Tupac telling the youth to keep their head up until Hoseok made a turn and parked the car in a desolate parking lot near the beach. “We’re here,” he said, grabbing a bag and stepping out.

The brackish smell of salt water hit your nose as soon as you opened the door. There was a slight chill to the air now that the day had cooled down, so the two of you sat on the trunk of the car instead of approaching the water. The moon was full and swollen in the sky, accompanied by a spattering of stars. He leaned back on the rear window as you lightly swung your legs.

Hoseok tore open a bag of chips and dug in unceremoniously. “Look at those stars.” He tilted the bag to you. You reached in and pulled out a handful. “What if we became stars after we died?”

You laughed at his abruptness, covering your mouth to hide the masticated corn chips. “Wow. You just got all philosophical on me out of nowhere.”

One side of his mouth quirked up in a smile, but he nudged your side lightly with an elbow. “I’m serious. What if?”

You swallowed the chips in your mouth and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t make life so scary. Maybe we’d live a little less franticly and less frightened if we knew that we’d be up there” – you gestured up at the sky – “instead of in the ground.”

Hoseok seemed to ponder this as he cracked open the seal to the bottle of chocolate milk and took a long, savory swig. He looked you in the eyes and said, “I like to think that I’ll become a star after I pass. Sometimes it helps me get through the day. It’s weird, I know, but it’s strangely comforting.”

“It’s not weird at all.”

Something in the air grew heavy as he gazed into your eyes. In the distance, the ocean lapped and tumbled against the shore. The breaths in your chest were shallow, expecting something to happen, but he blinked and turned his face to the sky. “A few days ago, I read on the internet that there is this rogue planet spiraling somewhere in the universe without a star and outside of a solar system,” he said, his voice gentle and mildly somber. “It’s just floating out there, alone and dark, and scientists have never seen anything like it before. The universe is so big with thousands of stars, and yet that one is by itself.” His eyes were trained on something far away, like he could see the planet with his naked eye.

“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” you said. You had no interest in looking at the sky. Hoseok was much more captivating. You looked at his lips, the slope of his nose, his eyelashes. His skin glowed in the moonlight. You wanted him to kiss you.

His eyes turned to you, and your heart stuttered in your chest . “How so?”

“Why is it that this one planet, out of all the thousands of planets, doesn’t get a companion?” Strangely, you found yourself relating to this strange, wandering celestial body. “Do you think planets get lonely, too?”

He smiled at that, but his eyes were heavy with an emotion you couldn’t identify. “It’s funny that you say that. When I was reading the article about it, I kept thinking of myself. Hoseok, the loneliest planet in the universe.”

You couldn’t imagine him ever feeling lonely. Granted, you didn’t know much about him, but he had an aura of confidence. But him identifying with an isolated planet that was surrounded by thousands of stars said more about him than his appearance. It was perplexing to have that in common with a boy in a frat.

He chuckled, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I dampened the mood, didn’t I? I brought you out here to get to know you, but I’ve taken the spotlight with a depressing topic. But, I don’t know what it is about you, Y/N. It’s strange. You’re the only person that I can actually talk to without feeling like I’m being judged. You’re a breath of fresh air. Thank you.”

You smiled.

Hoseok finished his chocolate milk in another long pull before you asked him what his major was. You wanted to add to this sparse collection of facts that you had of him. Secretly, you wanted to know more about the young man that you lost your virginity to. You hoped that didn’t make you seem clingy.

“I used to want to walk on the moon when I was a kid, so I wanted to be an astronaut,” he said with a nostalgic smile. “But I’m shit at math and science, so I ran with the one thing that I’m good at. Dance.”

He was full of surprises. “You’re a dance major? That’s awesome. What made you start dancing?”

“Dancing makes me feel like I can defy gravity.” He popped a cheese puff in his mouth. Chewing, he said, “What made you choose film?”

You thought about how watching movies let you escape from the confines of reality, even if it was for just a fraction of a moment in your day. “I chose it because – Because film makes me feel, for at least an hour or so, like I’m a planet with a star.” It might’ve sounded stupid, but that was the best way that you could describe it.

He was finished with his cheese puff, and he was watching you with the same expression that he had when looking at the stars. And then he was kissing you. His mouth tasted like a mixture of everything he ate and drank, but you weren’t disgusted because you probably tasted the same way. His kisses were deep and urgent. You weren’t sure if the noise in your ears was the ocean crashing against the shore or the blood rushing through your veins.

“Do you want to take this to the backseat?” he said, his mouth against yours. You nodded hastily.

The snacks were left abandoned on the trunk while the both of you slipped into the backseat (with some trial and error since you weren’t thinking straight and the car was a two door). You straddled him, knees on each side of his lap, pressing into the leather cushions. His hands roamed the skin of your back and stomach under your shirt, his lips dissolving into yours. You fumbled blindly with his belt buckle while rolling your heat onto his crotch, an erection bulging through the denim, and a moan already making its way up your throat.

Hoseok’s kisses had to be some kind of an addiction. You’d been craving him for days, and now that his mouth was making its way down the side of your neck and over the slope of your shoulder, it was like taking another dose of some drug that had been hidden from you. You both were a mess of saliva and teeth; him, biting your bottom lip sensually and your tongue dancing around his own. Sweat was already making its way down the dip of your back.

“You were all I could think about these past couple of weeks,” he breathed as he pushed your pretty shirt up and over your head. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

He nibbled at your throat as you gasped, “I thought I was the only one.”

Neither of you bothered removing much clothing. He pushed his shorts and boxers down his thighs, and you slipped out of your pants but didn’t take off your underwear. You pushed them to the side and sank down onto his erection easily after he hastily rolled on a condom with shaky, rushed hands.

You threw your head back with a moan, one hand splayed on the backrest of the seat and another on the ceiling to keep your balance. His fingers were sticky as he gripped your waist.

Your mouth on his, your whispered, “Go slow, please. Go really slow.”

So he did. His hands on your hips, his fingertips pressed bruises into the skin there. He helped you ease up and down his cock. You were so wet that every stroke made a moist, sticky sound that had the pit of your stomach clench tighter like a fist. His face was tilted up to watch your expression, his mouth open in a silent moan and his eyebrows pulled together with intensity. It was as hot as your dorm room in the car; sweat was making its way down between your shoulder blades at a steady, tickling pace. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession – he was trying to control himself. Sweat glistened on his forehead. God, he felt so good going in and out of you like this.

He was bucking his hips up into you to the same easy pace that you were rolling yours, and you could feel him in everywhere. In your veins. Under your skin. On your tongue. He was intoxicating. His skin was slick with moonlight and sweat, and he moaned out, loud and unapologetically. “Oh, fuck you feel so good, baby. Fuck.” He pushed your hair over your shoulder and kissed the skin there, wet and sloppy.

Every nerve ending in your body was pulled tight like violin strings and you could feel that they were going to snap soon. You cupped his face in both hands and kissed him long and nastily on the mouth as he sped up his pace, reaching his high as well. “Ah – I’m so close, Hoseok.” Your voice was breathless and you sounded like a mess – you probably looked like one, too – but you didn’t care because he felt so good inside of you.

“Yes, yes, yes! Baby, right there,” your voice pitched up into a whiny moan. His cock was reaching places that had your eyes rolling and your breath stuttering in your throat. He reached up and kneaded your clothed breasts in his warm hands. They were bouncing frantically with his quick, unrelenting thrusts and he just couldn’t resist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, stopping to pull down your bra and take a nipple into his mouth. He bit and sucked your right nipple while pinching your left, leaving hickies and saliva behind. You couldn’t help but to smile through the pleasure at the compliment.

Exhausted, his thrusts became slow again but deeper. Staccato and hard. You could feel him in your stomach. Every burst of energy that he jerked up into you had your eyelids fluttering closed with pleasure. You sucked deep bruises along the base of his throat and trailed your lips up to his ear where you tugged and nibbled at the lobe with your teeth. You were panting at this point, trying so hard not to come, but it was difficult to tame a tidal wave. With your mouth still at his ear, you whined, “Hoseok, right there. Don’t stop,” completely overcome with pleasure.

His eyes screwed shut as his hips stuttered, his arms trembling. You recognized this from the last time. “Shit,” he exhaled, closely followed by a moan that sounded like your name and you felt him coming undone underneath you like pulling a string from a ball of yarn. His hair was in his eyes, and his chest heaved. You liked when he looked like this – so unburdened and free. “Damn. What do you do to me?” he said with a breathy laugh.

You were overwhelmed by how beautiful he looked. You couldn’t help but to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again. He was still inside of you and you were still close to your peak, so you rolled your hips slowly around him.

“Ah, you haven’t come yet,” he said against your mouth, wincing as you continued to move.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just…sensitive.”

“Oh, sorry.”

He pulled out slowly, biting his lip at the feeling. You thought that this meant he was finished for the night, but he licked two fingers of his right hand and led them to your entrance. “Can I?” he asked.

You didn’t hesitate to nod.

His eyes were steady on yours as he dipped his fingers inside you carefully. You tightened around him with a gasp. His digits were long and slim and he curled them, rubbing against a spot that made you suck in your breath, teeth clenched. You held your breath through the pleasure, unable to say a word as his fingers explored you.

“It’s okay, baby. Bounce on them,” he said, his voice husky and enticing. His eyes were trained on your face, watching you closely again. You slid up and down his fingers. You were leaking and quivering, holding onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You were so close to the edge of that precipice that it was driving you crazy. “Does this feel good?”

“Yes. Oh – oh, shit. I’m com – Hoseok – ah, Hoseok!”

Something full and tense inside of you cracked in half and then you were trembling, screwing your eyes shut. Your mind went blank and fuzzy and a high-pitched noise filled the car. Was that sound coming from you? When you realized that you were holding your breath, you exhaled and collapsed against his sticky chest. Your entire body was pleasantly relaxed.

Hoseok was laughing, and if your skin wasn’t already aflame from how steamy it was in the car, you would be ignited with embarrassment. You leaned back away from him. Your back hit the passenger seat and you tried to cover your breasts even though you were still straddling him with your lower half exposed.

“No, no don’t get embarrassed,” he was saying with that gorgeous smile of his, gently pulling your arms away from your chest. That was when you realized how drenched his hand was, your come slithering all the way down to his elbow. “I’m laughing because you’re so cute. You squirted.”

You blinked. Maybe it was the heat making you loopy. “I did what?”

He was laughing and kissing you all over your face, which reminded you of Taehyung and Irene and it made you feel even more awkward and humiliated because you’d rather not think of your angsty roommate and her puppy of a boyfriend when you were half-naked and post-fuck.

“It was cute. And really fucking hot, too.” He smiled big and wide at you, and with sensual eye contact, he licked up the juices from his hand and forearm.

He held you afterwards. The skin of his arms was sticking to the exposed skin of your back, and the car was stuffy and hot, but you didn’t dare pull away. It was comforting to be able to sit in silence like this, listening to each other breathe without feeling the need to talk. He trailed his fingertips up and down the ridges of your spine, light as butterfly wings. You were still straddling him, your head on his shoulder, looking out the window at the moon glistening on the water while you absentmindedly twirled your fingers through his damp hair. You didn’t want this night to end.

��I like you,” he said, his voice low and husky. He said it casually like it wasn’t a big deal. Like you’ve had a million guys tell you that they’ve liked you and he was just another one of them. But you hadn’t and he wasn’t and you hated the way your heart lurched at the confession.

It’s just the post-sex happiness talking. It has to be, you thought.

“You do?” you said. It was slightly difficult to talk around the palpitations of your heart, so your voice came out squeaky.

He chuckled a little at your voice. “Of course. You’re smart and understanding and pretty. Everything a guy could ask for.”

If there was even a way for you to get warmer, you did. You were glad he couldn’t see your face. “I like you, too.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

You lifted your head and with a smile, his lips met yours. His hair was stuck to his forehead in dark strings and his pupils were still blown wide with lust. You pushed his hair back a little so that you could see his eyes. He laughed, and you weren’t sure why, but you laughed with him. He trailed his hands down to your hips and rubbed soothing circles there.

“I like you so much.”  The sincerity in his words as he looked you in the eyes was deep enough to drown you.

You couldn’t breathe. Maybe it was him or it could’ve been the stifling heat. You didn’t know, but you needed fresh air. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

He smacked your ass playfully when you crawled over the console to the passenger seat. You squeaked in surprise and that made him roar with laughter as you stumbled out of the car. Hoseok followed you, crawling out after pulling up his boxers and shorts. He handed you your pants and shirt. You thanked him and redressed.

The air cooled your skin almost immediately. There was no one else on the beach, and you and Hoseok walked on the sand with your shoes off side by side. He reached for your hand and you took his. He slotted his fingers between yours. The two of you walked like that, enjoying the serene view. The moon and stars glittered on the vast darkness of the ocean like the water contained its own galaxy. Delicate clouds slid across the sky, enshrouding the moon before releasing it again. You and Hoseok watched them slip away languidly and fluidly like they had all the time in the world.

“You know,” Hoseok started, his voice soft but still catching your attention, “Everyone’s always expecting something from me. They all want me to be the guy that I was my freshman and sophomore year, and none of them even care to know my real name. And I’m stupid enough to be pressured into keeping up that reputation. It feels like I’m trapped.” His eyes were distant as he looked out at the water.

You glanced at him. “You’re not stupid. A person just can’t change with the snap of their fingers. Great things take time.”

He looked at you and smiled. The moon was in his eyes and his hair was mussed up from the sex and the wind. He gave you a kiss on the lips, quick and precious. Saccharine. Your chest swelled briefly with warmth. A smile bloomed on your lips.

He smiled, too. “You’re too pretty, Y/N.”

You laughed his compliment off, but on the inside, your organs were bursting. Your skin was covered in goosebumps, and he ran a hand over them. “So what’s the reputation that you feel like you’re forced to sustain? The stereotypical frat boy that drinks his liver away and says ‘bro’ all the time?” you joked, but he didn’t laugh. He looked troubled, and you faltered, thinking that you said something wrong.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.” His voice was cryptic, but then he smiled to lighten the mood. “I should get you home. It’s getting kind of late.”

--

It was almost three in the morning when Hoseok walked you back to your dorm. The corridor was silent, and it felt like you and Hoseok were trapped in a fleeting dream painted in dreary colors or a liminal space awash in temporary silence. His fingers were locked with yours and he was walking slowly like he didn’t want you to go too soon. But time was never the friend of one who was having an amazing night, and you reached your dorm room too quickly. The door was closed completely – a sign that Irene wasn’t there. She hated for the door to be closed all the way. “It’s like living in a damn prison cell,” she said once.

“Well, this is me,” you said, gesturing towards your door. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight.”

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight. Will I see you again?”

You bit your lip to stifle the smile, but it broke through. “I hope so.”

“Me, too.” He kissed you on your cheek and then softly on the lips. It was too short to savor but long enough for you to close your eyes for a moment. “Sleep easy.” He smiled and gave you another kiss. With this one, he didn’t want to let go, the kiss joined by needy hands, but he pulled away with a laugh and whispered another “goodbye” on your lips. You watched him leave, your cheeks warm and your head feeling light and fully of air.  

You turned to unlock the door, and suddenly there was the thundering sound of someone running down the hall. Startled, you turned around to see Hoseok coming towards you in a light jog with a smile stretched across his face. He came to a stop in front of you, panting lightly.

“What? What’s wrong?” you said. But you were met with another kiss.

“I just needed one more kiss,” he said. “So you won’t forget about me.”

You laughed so hard that you had to cover your face. He joined you in the laughter, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Corny?” he asked, laughter still bubbling from within him.

“Just a little,” you said.

A girl down the hall opened her door and shouted, “Some of us are trying to sleep!” before she slammed her door. That only made your and Hoseok’s laughter start again.

“Go before you get me in trouble!” you stage whispered.

“Okay, okay. See ya!” he said, and then he was gone around the corner again after another final wave. 

**

m.list

[oddsnendsfanfics]

But That Makes You Family Pt. 3

Genre: Fan Fiction (Animal Kingdom) Pairing: Craig Cody/OFC Warnings: Drinking, Death, Sexual Content, Language, Drugs Rating: R Length: Chaptered Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Once again thank you for those who have given feedback. 

Catch Up Here

“Olivia has been avoiding me.” Craig made his declaration, hands on his hips.

“Can you blame her?” Pope looked over his shoulder at him, little to no interest in his tone.

“Dude, she's been busy. Lay off.” Deran defended, as Craig knew he would.

“Busy? Ah yeah?” Craig pressed, leaning against the counter top, he singled out Deran. “And how many times have you saw her, since she was here? Huh?”

Deran had met Olivia the last three mornings, the surf was good, and they'd had a standing appointment with the cove. Craig knew it, everybody knew it. They had been meeting there since they were kids, setting out before the sun was up.

“Once or twice.” Deran shrugged.

“Once or twice.” Craig repeated, his annoyance growing. She'd told him that they would discuss him meeting Corbin, how were they to discuss shit if she didn't return his calls. “And how many times have you saw Corbin?”

“Once or twice.” Deran kept his answer.

Cornering Deran had been the only way Craig knew how to deal with the news Olivia had delivered, since then Craig had been doing everything he could to try and intentionally piss off his little brother. Whatever, Deran had better things to do than watch Craig throw a tantrum. If he wanted to see his kid, the rules were simple. Grow a pair. Get somewhat sober. Go see him.

“Once or twice. That's real fucking nice.” Craig slapped his hands together.

“If you're that upset go talk to her.” Pope chimed in with the obvious. Craig obviously knew where she was. “Stop being a big baby and go talk to her. But be nice, otherwise you're going to ruin it.”

Pope's advice to talk with Olivia had been straightforward and didn't leave much room for interpretation, unless you were Craig. Parked on the side of the street, he had a clear view of the house. Parked next to the garage on a spare patch of land was a small air stream trailer, a jetset blue Jeep Renegade – with Connecticut plates. A well manicured lawn with the perfectly maintained walk way made the two story house look homey and inviting.

Through the windows Craig couldn't see too much, only a few shapes and shadows through the sheer curtains that were expertly covering the windows. If he sat here long enough he may gather the courage to text Olivia, asking her to come out and meet him.

He'd invite her out, driving down to the strand, or maybe they'd drive and drive until they reached he hills. He'd vent about Smurf and J, tell her about life in general, and how much he had missed her. In return she'd tell him about life on the east coast, how she missed him, and what she hated the most about winters. They'd be free and able to talk and talk. Eventually, he'd ask about Corbin and Olivia would tell him everything he needed or wanted to know. Craig would turn around, driving her back, before he left she'd lean over the side of the scout and kiss his cheek. Waving him off in the rising sun.

Holding his phone, Craig sat watching the house. What if he asked her to come out and she didn't want to see him?

Lime green wasn't the best colour to try and hide, especially sitting on the side of the cul-de-sac. Craig Cody had never been the brightest man, despite that, he was a career criminal surely he had enough sense to know they could spot him from space in that thing. Had his mother taught him nothing?

It was getting late, the sun had set and the sky was that rich blue that crept into black, the first few stars of the night were beginning to show. He had been sitting there for the better part of two hours, Craig wasn't known to be a patient man.

“Olivia.” her mother sauntered into the den where her daughter and grandson were on the sofa, watching whatever sitcom was currently running. “Mind taking out the trash?” She nodded toward the door. “Now?”

“I can do it.” Corbin sat up.

“No, you're going to get ready for bed. I'll do it.” Olivia kissed the top of his head, messing up his shaggy brown locks. She had been at him for months to cut his hair, but he liked it long. The apple didn't fall far.

Glancing out the window, Olivia sighed. She could have gone out by now, she should have gone out by now. Craig was stupid enough to sit on the side of the street, no doubt having put a pound of coke up his nose by now, waiting would do him some good.

Across the street the door opened, a quick flood of light emerging from the house, in the middle was a distorted shadow, and then the porch light illuminated the front of the house. Motion censored. Craig should have known, Carolyn Bridges was always a bit of a hippie. One of the keep the planet clean and energy efficient types.

Through the shadows of the street lights, Craig shifted uneasily in the driver's seat, he had a clear view of Olivia. Marching toward him, her eyes locked on his the closer she got. Wrapped in a soft shawl, her flip flops smacked against the pavement on the way to the car.

"When did you take up stalking?" She asked tapping the hood of the scout.

Sitting up, Craig leaned over the door, his hair partially blocking his view. "I was in the neighbourhood."

"Sure. Right." Olivia nodded halfhearted. "Get out of the car, Craig."

Olivia stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for Craig. He was moving at a snail's pace, for somebody with legs that long he sure took a while. Standing beside the scout, Craig shoved his hands in his pockets waiting for the scolding.

"Come on." she nodded toward the air stream parked in the corner of the yard.

“Huh?”

“Come on, I want to talk. But not out here.” Olivia gestured to the wide open street. In code it meant she didn't want nosy little boys gawking out bedroom windows. Olivia was buying her time on Craig and Corbin. Craig could be staved off until the right time. Corbin on the other hand was best left in the dark, until the time was right.

“He's home?”

“Yeah, but you're not going inside. Not right now.” Olivia pulled a key from her pocket, unlocking the trailer.

“Nice set of wheels ya got.” Craig commented looking over the small Jeep.

Olivia hummed. She liked it. “It got us here, it'll get us home. Gas is great in this thing.”

“I can't believe you drove from fucking Connecticut? Are you insane? What if you'd broke down?" Craig turned, looking down at her.

Olivia sighed, rolling her shoulders to relieve the tension that was mounting. "But we didn't. Besides, if we had I would have called triple A."

"You couldn't be normal for once in your fucking life? Who takes a kid, an old trailer, and drives them across the country?"

"You'd be surprised how many people drive across the country. It's a great way to spend a summer vacation, besides this isn't old. It's vintage. And who are you to talk? Huh? You do shittier things every day, need I remind you that is why I have custody and you have never been allowed to meet my son?"

"Our." Craig mumbled, wisely shutting his mouth when Olivia glared at him.

Not another word, Craig ambled into the trailer behind Olivia. Stooping to clear the ceiling, they did not make these tin cans for tall people. Inside was cozy, if Craig were the type to use that word. A large bed lined the back wall, with a bunk in the front. Cupboards, a sink and stove lined one side. A small table with bench seats and a fridge along the other. The bright yellow and white paint scheme were set off by rich reds and warm browns. Craig was impressed.

“Welcome aboard.” Olivia moved some magazines off one of the benches making room for Craig.

“It's...nice.” Craig commented flopping onto the bench, the cushions were thick and comfortable. He thumbed through the stack of magazines on the table, gathering that they had been brought to entertain Corbin. There was a lack of electronic entertainment in here.

“Thanks, my dad helped me restore it. We took it all back to the original interior, only took six months.” Olivia boasted. “This is the first time we've had her out, really had her out.”

Craig lazily nodded, flipping through the latest issue of Motocross Action. Olivia had always bitched and whined about his bikes, she hated them. Craig had heard every excuse.

“Ugh, Corbin is obsessed with that magazine.” She groaned shaking her head.

“Does he have one?”

“Fuck no.” Olivia scoffed leaving her post holding up the counter. What kind of mother did Craig think she was? Smurf? Hell no. She had sense. "So," Olivia stood on her tip toes, reaching into a small space over the cupboard. Craig leaned back on the bench seat, enjoying the view. It was a rookie move, watching her shorts ride up. "May I ask why you're casing my parent's house?"

Grunting she gave a small jump and snatched the baggie she had been feeling for. Clutched in her hand, Olivia smiled triumphantly, showing Craig the bag of loose green. Sliding a pack of papers from her back pocket, she made herself comfortable on the other side of the folding table.

"I wasn't casing the place." Craig placed a shiny zippo on the table, his offering to the cause. Olivia's tongue darted across the edge of the paper, expertly rolling the joint. Her silence was stronger than words.

“My mom said she saw Pope, not long after Baz,” Olivia didn't bother to finish the sentence. What Carolyn hadn't told her daughter was that she saw the eldest Cody often. Andrew would come by the coffee shop that Carolyn owned. Once a week he would come in, sit in the same corner, and have his coffee.

“He told her that you were in Mexico. Doing a job?” She wasted no time getting to the good stuff.

Deran would tell her what Craig was up to, when she needed to know. Or if it was something that would suddenly leave her son fatherless, in another sense of the word. Most of the time, Olivia didn't want to know what they Codys were up to. If anything went sideways, she was better off never knowing. Mexico had never come up during her calls with Deran.

If Craig missing for a few weeks didn't filter into conversation then it meant one of two things. He was doing a job or there was a woman. Craig and Olivia were long over, never to begin again; Deran had decided that keeping those details from Olivia were for her own good. In some twisted way.

“Nah.” Craig answered shifting around out of awkwardness. “I was down there trying to get a business going, tequila.”

“A tequila business? Really? Wow.” Olivia laid one joint on the table, rolling another.

“Yeah, a friend and I went down. Didn't really get anything off the ground, but that's business.” Craig scratched his nose. He hadn't told Olivia about Renn and he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her about Nicky, although he was sure Deran had told her plenty.

“A friend.” Olivia wiggled her eyebrows. “Female friend?” Craig blushed whether he was aware or not. “Ah! You got a girlfriend, you're not telling me about, Craig Cody?” She teased.

“You uh, you seeing anybody?”

“I've had a boyfriend here and there.” Olivia answered sliding the first joint across the table. “You know how it is, every now and the you need to scratch that itch.” she winked.

“They all okay with Corbin?”

“Of course, I wouldn't bother to have someone around if they weren't good with him. Or if he didn't like them.”

“Good.” Craig's brow was furrowed and his eyes on his hands. “I'm never sure what to tell people, guess I don't tell them anything.”

“So you've never told your girlfriend? What's she going to think?” Olivia wasn't entirely surprised that Craig would keep this detail to himself.

“Naw, she isn't the mommy type. She wouldn't be a bitch about it or to him, but she isn't into the whole happy family, let's have kids thing. You know?” Craig tapped his knuckles on the table top. “Besides, we're not serious and she's out of town.”

“Hmm.” Olivia hummed picking up the joint and lighter.

She had never wanted to be that type either, funny how things change your plans. Lighting the joint, she waited for the right moment to take a puff.

“You been at Smurf's much? I thought about dropping by the other day, but wasn't sure you'd be there.”

Craig barked a laugh. He had been avoiding Smurf's as much as he could, all while watching the place like a hawk. Coming home to find Deran's father there had thrown a wrench into everybody's plans.

“Fuck no. I know that Deran talked to you and..."

"I know about Billy showing up." Olivia exhaled, the pungent smell of weed filling the trailer, in a white cloud. "Deran told me."

"Yeah, well, it's not a good idea for you to come around, Livvy. Not while that asshole is there."

"Then I won't come by the house." Oivia shrugged passing the joint to Craig.

Craig never thought he'd see this scene again, sprawled out with Olivia, huddled up in some space hiding from the outside world. A joint being passed back and forth between them, while all of their troubles left.

"Smurf if going to shit a brick, having Billy in her house." the idea of Smurf having no control over her household was tickling - perhaps it was the high.

"The good news is, she won't be worried about you showing up, now."

"Smurf doesn't have to worry about me. I don't want trouble, I'm simply here on vacation with my son." a coy smirk crossed Olivia's face. “You know that I'm harmless.”

Craig rolled his eyes. Olivia was harmless in the way a spider web was to a mosquito. She was there, taunting and waiting, one slip and you were caught up. She knew too much and Smurf didn't have the balls to do a damn thing about it. Not even Smurf was willing to cross the step-daughter of a District Attorney. Olivia had solidified her spot in Smurf's good graces, when she had her step-father go to bat for Pope. Andrew got off light with the jail time that he'd done, all thanks to Doug Bridges.

“Corbin and I are here for a nice vacation. I don't care about Smurf and her shit. If it weren't for Corbin, I doubt I'd even have the time for you.”

"Were you serious about me meeting him?" Blue eyes hooded and sincere, despite the glassy high. Craig wrinkled his nose, taking another puff from the joint, holding it out to Olivia. “I want to meet him, Livvy. Let me fucking meet him.”

Tilting her head to take a closer, more in depth look, Olivia took a puff, holding the smoke in her lungs. Blowing out a breath of smoke, she could see it now. The resemblance between Craig and her son. Corbin had the same hooded eyes, bright blue and sparkling. His nose and smile, all Craig. Even his wild mess of long hair, was Craig.

"Yes, but first there are some rules." Olivia leaned forward, hovering over the table and Craig. "It's late, we'll talk about this later. Go home."

Standing Olivia walked to the door, pushing it open with a grunt she stood holding the metal door. Taking the hint Craig slowly gathered himself and rose to his feet, stooping until he was out the door and could return to full height.

"Can I..."

"Night, Craig." Olivia waved and pulled the door shut.

Left in the yard, Craig cursed and kicked at the paved drive way. So that's how she was going to do this? Invite him in and then toss him out? Who did she think she was, anyway?

@noobchic, @ivarlothbroks, @sparklemichele, @klinger-verseau  , @hows-my-hair  , @grungyblonde , @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly - if anybody else wants a tag, feel free to ask :)

[wingedfabray]

Standing Stones || Dani & Quinn

Tagging: Dani Harper & Quinn Fabray When: May 10th, 2018 Where: Yanaka Cemetery What: Dani accompanies Quinn on a trip to the cemetery. Warnings: Mentions of death.

Quinn adjusted the material of her skirt around her waist, brushing out any stray wrinkles. The hotel was beautiful and perfect, but she was far more excited for the cemetery. From a brief search on Google, she knew it would be different than the cemeteries she'd traversed back home. There was something inherently magical about cemetery grounds, even in a high boundary ranked area. Deciding she looked presentable enough, she made her way down to the lobby, ready to catch the next shuttle.

Dani wasn´t exactly thrilled having Sugar as her roommate. Surely, the other girl didn´t know who she really was, and she was intending on keeping it that way, but considering what she had done, even though she had done to survive, she felt a little guilty. She couldn´t really go anywhere without a sponsor, or well...any witch in that case, she spent most of her time in the lobby, which was how she caught sight of Quinn passing through. For a moment she considered just letting her go, but they hadn´t talked, especially not during the trial, and Dani would have thought it to be rude to not at least say hey. So she got up from her seat and approached the Blonde, a smile on her face. "Hey, Quinn."

Quinn spotted Dani just before the greeting. It was hard not to look at her and think of the last time they'd been in the same place at the same time. It was smoke and fog, and voices the still seemed to echo somewhere deep and lodged in her chest. It was an aching reminder of a failure she couldn't quite get over, still too fresh, and she only offered a smile and looked away. But unfortunately the shuttle hadn't arrived, and standing awkwardly in the lobby with someone familiar wasn't an option. "Hello, Dani." She said as she looked back, "Are you...waiting for someone, or waiting to go somewhere?"

Dani she honestly hadn´t even expected to have a conversation with Quinn. For a moment she felt like she was being transported back to the aviary. Back to the fog. Back to sharing things with Quinn, a girl she barely knew and yet...Quinn was probably the witch who knew most about Dani. Which was something she hadn´t thought about before. "Oh...I´m just...hanging out. Can´t really go anywhere." She shrugged her shoulders. "How about you? You look like you´re going somewhere."

Quinn had forgotten, honestly, that not everyone could attend every attraction, not without an escort. It was a dizzy feeling, a stark reminder of how much had changed since she'd first arrived at NYADA. The arrival of Kitty and Sugar was only driving that feeling home. She pursed her lips, and answered "I'm heading for the Yanaka Cemetery." She bit off her explanations why. For all Dani had shared, Quinn had remained tight-lipped about her own interests, beyond her knowledge of the Nephilim.

Dani nodded at Quinn´s words. She had seen the Cemetery on pictures after doing some research. It looked absolutely beautiful and she had wanted to go, but most people weren´t exactly interested in heading to a cemetery, though Dani figured it would be a very peaceful place. She´d been meaning to go and visit Ellie´s grave, to see if she could get closure, but without a sponsor that hadn´t been possible. She didn´t even know if it would work, with not knowing who her parents were and whether or not they were alive or dead there wasn´t really a grave she could go to to grieve. "Do you mind if I tag along?" She finally found herself asking. "I promise not to talk a lot." she then added. "I just heard it was beautiful and I haven´t found anyone to go with me yet."

Quinn looked from Dani to the shuttle that was just beginning to load, and back again. She pursed her lips, her back straight. It wasn’t really going together, per se, but the recent additions to their small group had her on edge. Tabloids and small indiscretions were made all the more detrimental under the watchful eyes of the Mottas and Wildes. And yet Dani seemed entirely unassuming, and there was little point in an exchange trip if she was going to spend it in the hotel. “Fine.” She finally allowed, as she spun to get on the shuttle.

Dani could see Quinn’s mind at work and for a moment she thought the other girl was going to say no. Surely, Dani was good at convincing people to what she wanted, but she wasn’t sure how well that would work with one Quinn Fabray. Luckily, however, the other girl seemed to decide in Dani’s benefit and so her lips turned upwards into a smile. „Awesome,“ she smiled, happy that she had taken her bag with her already. Dani boarded the shuttle and sat down next to Quinn, settling in. The ride to the cemetery was mostly spent in silence but when they got out of the shuttle Dani couldn’t quite hold herself back. „Wow,“ she managed as she caught sight of the cemetery. „So...why did you wanted to see it? Any particular reason?“

Quinn walked in awe down the road lined with cherry blossoms. Hues of pink danced in a breeze, tiny falling petals shifting like colorful rain until they came to rest on the pavement. It wasn't a familiar cemetery, staggered stones in place of angelic statues, the shift in faith obvious. But there was still a silent, humming power about it. It was a subtle flow of energy that she could feel in her fingertips. She almost missed Dani's question, "I've always been drawn to cemeteries, along with churches. They're...holy places, each in their own way." Short of describing magic (which would fail anyway) that was all she could offer. "And you?"

Dani could feel the magic. It wasn´t her own, but there was something about this place, buzzing under the surface, that made her feel...strangely at home. She briefly wondered if she had ever felt this way before, if she had been close to magic, apart from her own, without knowing it. She fell into step with Quinn as they walked and Dani made a mental note to draw this place later. Maybe even now if they found a place to sit for a while, it was beautiful. "I..." She trailed off for a moment. "I´ve been meaning to visit someone´s grave, but I couldn´t because Sam gave up his place as my sponsor and I wasn´t assigned a new one yet." It was as much as she could say without going into too much detail. "So I figured...maybe this would help with some closure." She glanced over at Quinn. "You said your magic was passed down from the angels. Does that means it´s stronger in places like this?"

Quinn 's brow furrowed, as she tried to piece together what Dani had said. There was something about angels, but some words had seemed to come out random. Boundary ranks were tricky, and she tried to fill in the blanks the best that she could. "We're close to the angels, yes." She offered neutrally. The grave stones were staggered, and there wasn't an angel in sight. Beliefs that weren't her own were fascinating, and she'd spent far too much time reading up on the history of Shinto and Buddhism before making the trip across the ocean. It was obvious in the sprawling expanse of tombstone littered lawn, how different it was from a cemetery back home. "It's...better here, but not like it could be, back home." She paused, sparing a glance at Dani. Something warred within her, and she walked in silence for a moment before continuing. "I'm not sure you'll find closure in unfamiliar places. Have you tried the rent-a-sponsor program?"

Dani nodded. She was aware that magic was censored here and while it was a thought that was present in her mind she hadn’t really actively thought about it before asking Quinn about her magic. “I know that,” she then replied, “But it’s better than nothing, besides: it’s beautiful here,” she gestured around, “I did, but this never got back to me,” Dani then added, “they had us take his sponsor test but then never said a word about it again,” With Ellie’s death having been a while ago and her and Marley now being a thing things had gotten better, but closure was something she hadn’t fully found yet. “Hey, want to sit?” She then asked, pointing at one of the benches beneath the cherry blossom trees.

Quinn pursed her lips, but refrained from offering a comment on the Rent-A-Sponsor program. She'd made her thoughts clear the moment the sponsorships had been announced – this is absurd, you'll regret it when lusus are destroying New York City – but she'd found herself re-evaluating many things of late. Even so, her own opinion felt stilted and out of place, and she finally offered a nod. "I do hope they get back to you. And I'm am sorry for your loss, Dani." The moment passed when Dani offered a seat, and while the change was jarring, Quinn let it slide with some relief. The bench was, of course, placed underneath a cherry blossom, littered in fluttering pink. As cemeteries were wont to be, it was relatively quiet, peaceful in a way only the dead could manage. She sat with her legs crossed, hands folded in her lap, half wishing she'd brought a book. "It's beautiful, at any rate. There's something...peaceful about cemeteries."

Dani gave Quinn a smile. "Thank you." She wasn´t the biggest fan of the program herself, even though she had enjoyed going out with Sam, but it was still an absurd idea. She didn´t want to ponder on that now, however, not when they were in such a beautiful place and had the chance to relax and have a look around. Dani cleaned off some of the cherry blossoms so they could sit without getting any stains on their clothes, and then sat down, waiting for Quinn to do the same. "It really is. I don´t understand why some people don´t like them." She paused. "I mean...I can imagine why, but you know what I mean." Dani opened her bag and pulled out her note book and some pencils, slowly beginning to sketch the scene that was laid out before them. She had promised not to talk too much and there wasn´t much need for it, anyways. This was nice, just the two of them sharing a moment of silence in such a beautiful place.

Quinn could think of many reasons why others wouldn't quite enjoy cemeteries, despite their silent beauty. There was a pervading sadness that seemed to drift between the tombstones, something heavy and deeper than the space between stars. Quinn let it settle, let it fade into the sounds of silent passers-by and the scratch of pencil on paper. It was hard not to look over, to watch Dani bring the scenery to life on paper. More often than not she found her gaze tracing lines instead of watching the people around her. It was a long time before she broke the silence, "How long have you been drawing?"

Dani enjoyed the silence as she scribbled away on paper, just letting the scenery come to life again on paper. She didn´t mind Quinn watching, whenever she drew it was like she was slipping away into a different world, a world that was entirely her own. She had spent countless hours in coffee shops and parks after fleeing the orphanage, just drawing the scenery or people passing by, sitting on benches or on the grass. It had calmed her down, given her a sense of security in an otherwise so unstable life. When Quinn broke the silence Dani looked up, turning towards the other woman. "Oh...a while." She then replied. "I used to do it as a child...it was a way of passing time, escaping reality, if you like. Then I started getting into make up and I began to paint faces rather than on paper." Maybe it had been a way of trying to escape as well, just...a way more fleshed out plan. "Then I did it when I...left the orphanage. And then I didn´t for a while. But ever since coming to NYADA I picked it up again." She glanced down at the picture she´d drawn and finished it with a couple of strokes before carefully removing the paper from her notepad and handing it to Quinn. "Here, you can keep it."

Quinn listened without comment, simply watching the lines of the scenery coming to life. Her hands found the offered paper gently, shaking, and suddenly she couldn't see the lines anymore. She couldn't seem to look. This wasn't what she wanted; Dani's words and confessions, her drawings and company. She didn't want anyone's history, because knowing someone's history was like forging a connection, and she couldn't do that anymore. "Thank you." She said at last, but she kept the drawing held out in front of her, "But perhaps you should save it for someone else."

Dani had learned to read people from an early age and so she was quick to notice the shift in the atmosphere between them. She glanced up at Quinn, shaking her head. "No. Keep it." She then told her with an encouraging smile. "I´ve drawn a lot of things and I didn´t keep a whole lot of the drawings. It´s best to be with someone who´s been there," She glanced at the drawing. "Who´s seen this in real life." Dani then got up from the bench. "I´ll take a walk back to the bus station. Maybe we can meet there? I think we should be fine, since you´re not really leaving me out of sight."

Quinn was left holding the paper, watching as Dani walked away. True to her word, she was never out of site. Quinn looked down at the captured seen once more, one finger tracing over the lines. It was a moment before she released a breath, tense shoulders slumping down, her eyes drifting shut. It was just a drawing, it didn't mean anything. It didn't have to be anything more than a piece of paper, and Quinn was determined to make it such. She tucked carefully under her arm so as not to bend it, and finally joined Dani at the bus stop, eyes forward.

[vitalpen]

A Government Investigation Pt 2

(Hi again.  I’ve made the decision that I’m going with three parts because otherwise this’d be really long.  Given the timeframe provided by @squigglydigglydoo , Nixon’s in office and won’t be for much longer, the Vietnam war is becoming a very obvious lost cause, and the Cold War continues to keep everyone nervous of impending nuclear doom.  Previously, we had CIA agent Larry Lockart coming to Henry’s house to investigate the toons.  After encounters with both Boris and Alice, Henry sat him down and told him the story.  And so it continues.  Side note: This exceprt will now be in pt 3)

So the tale was spun. For the better part of an hour, Larry was told a detailed story of a man who lost his mind and turn to actual satanic rituals to create a world apart from their own, one where the cartoons walked, breathed, and lived like normal humans, and how his own power fantasies ended up being the end of him.  It went long enough that Boris ended up finishing the lawn and joining them.

By the time it was done, Larry was dazed, overwhelmed by the amount of unbelievable events he’d just been told.  He had to take a moment to collect himself, run things through his head again.  “Boy, I really asked for it, didn’t I?”  The agent finally managed to get out.

“You wanted the story,” Ross replied with an air of satisfaction.

Larry nodded slowly.  “Yes, I did,” he stood up and stretched a little, “but I was expecting science fiction, not fantasy.”

“We’re here aren’t we?” Alice spoke up to defend the tale.

“That’s true, that’s very true.”

“Do you believe it?” Ross asked.

Larry looked back to Alice, then to Boris, “The fact that I can’t confidently and immediately say ‘no’ is one of the most interesting and infuriating things I think I’ve ever experienced.”  He sat back down, folding his hands on the table.  “What you’ve just told me is absolutely insane, and I’m an idiot for even entertaining the possibility that it’s true.  But I staunchly believe that in too great a number, coincidences start becoming patterns.  This Ink Machine matches up decently to the list of tracked purchases we have connected to Mr. Drew.  The timeframes fit too.  The story explicitly accounts for the disappearances of Sammy Lawrence, Norman Polk, Susie Campbell, and Joey Drew, and can implicitly account for all the others.  But the key thing that keeps me from dismissing it all in an instant is the living proof we’ve got here with us.  They alone give a lot more credence to the rest of it.”  He leaned back.  “However, there’s a key piece here that’s missing.”

“Really, what’s that, pal?”

Larry flinched, both surprised and unsurprised by the voice.  Surprised in that he hadn’t expected it, unsurprised in that he knew exactly who it was the moment he heard it.  He had to be around 5 years old the first time he’d heard it, and around 16 the last time.  There were no crackles and pops alongside it though, it was clear as day, and right behind him.

He hadn’t heard the star of the show come in, nor had he noticed him take a seat on the counter, but when Larry turned around, there he was, completing the triumvirate of nostalgia.

Bendy, the Little Devil Darling, himself.

“Well, speak of the devil,” was all he managed to get out.

“Heh, cute,” the imp hopped off the counter and stuck his hand out.  “Pleased to meetcha, pal, I’m Bendy, Bendjammin if ya feelin’ formal.”

Larry took the hand and gave a hardy shake, “Lawrence.  That’s funny, I didn’t know Bendy was short for anything.”

“That’s cuz it ain’t,” the toon didn’t miss a beat, “always liked how it sounded, though.”

That pulled a laugh out of the agent, though whether it was the joke, or finally succumbing to being star struck, he couldn’t say.  “Ain’t that something.”

“Don’t I know it.  So Larry, what was that piece of the puzzle you were missin?”

“I’d hazard that you’ve got a fairly decent idea of who it might be,” he replied with a grin.

Every movement the toon made oozed shownmanship; the overacted way he crossed arms over his torso and held his head in one hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully, to the gasp of shocked realization, to the agonizingly slow, shy way he looked back up at Larry, pointing to himself and squeaking out, “Me?”

“Mm-hmm,” Larry, unable to keep a smile off his face, gave Henry a raised eyebrow.  The animator sighed with a smile of his own.

Bendy clapped his hands to his cheek and gasped, looking like he was about to cry, “This is so unexpected!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough schmaltz,” Henry ushered, earning him a pout from the imp.

“Oh, I don’t know, I was entertained,” Larry chuckled, blaming his urge to defend the toon on a fulfilled childhood fantasy.

Bendy’s smile returned in a flash, “Henry, I like this guy.  He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

“Only because he doesn’t live with you,” Ross replied with exaggerated annoyance.  

“Or work with him,” Alice chimed in, smirking at Bendy.

“Hey,” the imp pointed an accusatory finger at her, “I am a joy to work with, ask anybody.”

“You’re talking about the times when you actually cooperate, right?”  Alice countered.

Bendy harrumphed and turn his lack-of-a-nose up at her, “That’s just part of my charm.”

“Charm, hmm?” Alice leaned forward with a taunting smile.

“Now, Agent Lockart,”  Henry interrupted the two before the schtick went on too long, “you had some more questions?”

Realizing he was once more the center of attention, Larry quickly stifled his giggles and cleared his throat.  “Yes, there were a few.  Assuming I believe everything you’ve told me, and the jury is still out there, what are they capable of now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you see all sorts of impossible things in cartoons.  Things that’d make any physics nut at NASA want to hang himself.”

“When it comes to the phyiscal properties,” Henry spoke easily and confidently, “they can redistribute their body mass, stretch, smear, things like that.  But when it comes to physics, nothing that human beings can’t do,” Henry replied matter-o-factly.

”Yep,” Bendy confirmed with a nod, “ya ain’t gonna see me pulling a hammer that’s bigger than me out from behind my back.”

“Shame; must make punchlines harder to land, eh?”

“You’re tellin’ me, now we gotta rely on,” he shuddered, “wit.” The word was spoken with overdramatized disdain.

“It was a real setback when we realzed he never developed any,” Alice ribbed.

Bendy squinted at her, “Think you’re a comedian huh?”

“Pays for one of us to be, at least.”  The angel shrugged.

“So no more superhuman abilities, huh?”  Larry interjected, making a note of it in his notebook.  “I think that’s for the best.”

The last statement caught Henry’s attention and he raised an eyebrow.  “Why’s that?”

“Yeah, afraid we’re gonna muss things up?”  Bendy prodded.

“Quite the contrary. That kind of thing can have a lot of potential in... certain areas of the world.”  He looked to Henry, locking eyes with the man.

It took a moment, but the animator’s eyes narrowed in a sudden surge of anger, “No, absolutely not.”

“Agreed,” the agent replied bluntly.  “I fancy myself a patriot, but I say keep the propaganda to the cartoons, not real life.”

“I’ll leave those to other studios, I’ve got better things to make,” Ross replied pointedly.  Made sense coming from a shell-shocked vet.

“The point being,” Larry clarified, “if the bloodhounds in Washington caught wind of something we have that the Reds don’t, they wouldn’t stop until they had it.”

“Then you’ll tell them there’s nothing here,” the words were more than a suggestion, but Larry let it go.

“So far, that seems to be the gist of it.  Now,” he shifted in his chair, “I was wondering if I might have some time with each of them alone.”

“No.” Ross’s reply came out like a reflex.

Larry sighed, seemed as though he’d finally found the brick wall.  “Mr. Ross, you clearly care about these three, and I can respect that.  But if you’re with them the entire time I’m talking to them, they’re going to censor themselves and I can’t have that.”

“That isn’t my problem. I am not leaving them alone with you.” His eyes were unwavering.

Larry sighed and stood up, walking around the table and right up to the man.  “Ross, let me be very clear.  If the story you told me got out, whether or not people believed it, Joseph McCarthy himself would come back from the grave just to shut you down and confiscate all of them.  If my report isn’t comprehensive, if Washington think there’s a single stone I haven’t turned over, they’ll send someone else.”  He leaned in, “That someone else isn’t going to ask.”

Henry stood from his chair, coming chin-to-chin with Larry.  “You have my answer, Agent Lockart.”

“For Christ’s sake, they aren’t children, Ross!  If what you’ve told me is true, they’ve got memories spanning back year.  You can play parent, but they’ve got a right to independence.  Let them choose.”

The words seemed to strike a chord.  The glare didn’t leave, but the jaw shifted.  Ross didn’t trust him, and that was fine, probably smart.  But Larry was their best shot at never hearing from Federal again.  Whether he liked it or not, his legacy was going to be built on the ashes of Joey Drew Studios, a place that already had McCarthiests ready to bust down the door.

Finally, Henry sighed and looked to the others.  At some point they had all huddled together and now they were whispering amongst themselves.  They paused and nodded in unison, then they all stepped forward, Alice in front, Bendy and Boris just behind her.

Alice nodded in agreement. “Henry, after everything you’ve done for us, let us do this for you.”  The other too nodded in support.

With all three agreed, Henry returned his attention to Larry.  “Fine, you’ll use the drawing room.”  With that, he stood up and walked out of the kitchen.  Larry followed him on a short walk down the hall.

The drawing room was exactly what it sounded like.  A cluttered mess of a room with a drawing desk on one wall and a score of drawings and artist’s tools all over the place.

Ross set up two chairs, “The door stays open.”  It was clear that this wasn’t up for negotiation.

Larry sighed, but didn’t fight it.  “Long as we’re not interrupted, I suppose that’s fine.  Now who’s first?”

“That’d be me, sir.” Boris stepped forward without hesitation.

Henry nodded, mostly to himself, then left the room.  Alice followed him.  Bendy lingered for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something, but eventually trailed after them.

“Which one would ya like, Mr. Lockart?”  Boris asked politely, indicating the chairs.

It seemed a superfluous choice to the agent, but he found himself charmed that Boris still thought to give him the pick.  He was starting to understand why the old lady was fond of him.  “Doesn’t much matter to me, take the one that strikes your fancy, Boris.  And please, call me Larry.”

“Mighty kind, Larry,” Boris took his seat and Larry took the other.

“So, Boris, how was mowing the lawn?”

“Pretty alright, I suppose. Long as I get to her every week ‘r so, it don’t give me no trouble.”

“Good, good, I’m glad to hear.  You typically take lawn duty, then?”

“Yes sir.  Workin’ outdoors is some of my favorite chores.”

“Never heard of anyone having ‘favorite’ chores,” Larry chuckled.

“Well, I like helpin’ out. Feels good to do somethin’ kind for other people.  I even started doin’ it for Ol’ Miss Wimble next door,” Boris indicated with a thumb toward the wall.  Larry could only assume Miss Wimble was the one he’d me earlier.

“That’s quite gentlemanly of you,”

“Why thank you kindly.”

“My pleasure.  Now Boris, aside from yard work, how do you usually spend your free time?”

“Well, mostly, I go walkin’ around, shoot the breeze with Bendy or Alice, help Henry around the house and yard if he asks, go fishin’ or do some whittlin’ every once in a while, or I take a nap under the tree outside.”

“A wolf of simple tastes, I can respect that.  Lord knows I wish for a life like that.  Got any whittling projects right now?”

In response, Boris looked around for a moment and perked up his ears, checking for any eavesdroppers, then leaned in close, motioning for Larry to do the same.  “Now, don’t tell nobody, but I got a little somethin’ I’ve been workin on for a little while now.  I’m making everyone at the office their own little sculpture.”

“Everyone, himm?  I imagine that’s quite a few people.”

“Yes sir, but it don’t bother me none.  Once I got all of ‘em done, I’m gonna give everyone theirs at once, let ‘em know how grateful I am for everything they’re doin’ for us.”

Larry couldn’t help but feel a warm tingle in his heart toward the wolf, “Isn’t that swell.  How far along are you?”

“Well, I was almost done a few weeks ago.  But Henry hired a few new folks, so I had to take some time to get to know’em, that way I can make sure they get somethin’ real special too.”

“So when new people show up, you add them to the list?”

The wolf nodded his head, “Uh-huh.”

“You’re a standup guy, Boris, let no on tell you any different.”  He made a few notes with his pen, “Now, moving on from there, given that Bendy’s made his own, are you planning any public appearances?”

The wolf scratched his head thoughtfully, “Guess I gotta sometime, but I usually leave that stuff to Bendy.”

“I can understand that. The world can be a bit overwhelming. How do you feel about it, being in the real world I mean?”

It was another question Boris had to think about for a moment.  “Well, I ain’t gonna be dishonest with ya, it was awful scary for a little while.  Lot’s o’ the stuff we used to do didn’t work no more.  But Henry told us all from the start that he weren’t goin’ nowhere, he was with us till the end.  He started teachin’ us how to do a whole bunch o’ new stuff, and these days we’re all right as rain.”

“Henry’s quite the guy.”

Boris nodded energetically, “Sure is.  Henry’s probably one of the nicest fellas this side of anything.”

“He certainly has your respect.”

“Yessiree, Bob,” he replied proudly.

“Would you say you’d do just about anything for him?”

“Just about,” the wolf agreed with certainty.

Larry leaned forward a little, “What wouldn’t you do for him?”  They had to get here eventually.  The next few minutes weren’t going to be fun.  But Henry had influence over them, that much was clear. He had to see how significant it was.

“Well, I… hmm.”  Boris held his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. After a moment, he nodded, confirming something to himself.  “I wouldn’t hurt nobody.”

His reply brought a good deal of relief with it.; Larry let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  Good answer.  “Really? If Henry told you to, say, bite someone, you’d refuse?”

“Yessir, I would,” the answer was given with conviction.  “I ain’t never hurt nobody before and I ain’t gonna start now.”

Larry nodded, satisfaction blooming, and took down a few more notes.  “Boris, that’s a good strategy to live by.”

“Well, thank you, Larry, kind of you to say.”

“My pleasure.  Now I’ve got just one last question for you.” He leaned forward once more and looked the canine in his notched pupils.  “What do you think about war, Boris?”

The toon gave him a puzzled, slightly uncomfortable look.  “What do you mean?”

“What’s your opinion on it? Why do we do it, when is it necessary? Who’s fault is it?”

Boris wasn’t fond of the question; he shifted a little in his seat, and his pupils got just a little smaller.  “Well, I don’t know if I can say anything about it that nobody else has.”

“Oh, that’s fine.  Just tell me what you can say,” he encouraged.

The wolf took some more time to think, tapping his foot and saying “hmm” every few moments.  His ears twitched a little too.  “I think…” he began slowly, working hard to convert complicated thoughts into words.  “I think that if you go around hurtin’ people, then ya only got yourself to blame if ya get hurt back.  But I don’t think yer always gonna have a choice, especially if yer tryin’ to help someone else.”

Larry nearly laughed from the surge of warmth he felt.  What was it the Miss Wimble had said?  “Such a good boy”, was it?  She could say that again.  “Well, Boris, I think that’s plenty.  Henry’s lucky to have you.”

Boris’s face lit up with a smile, “Well, thanks for sayin’ so, Larry.”

“What’s say we head back to the kitchen?”  He made a short summary of all his notes, fairly confident in his conclusion.

Boris is wholly nonthreatening.  A good country boy with not a single mean bone in his body.  Any resources spent on further surveillance of him would be wasted and could used elsewhere to much greater effect.

[deadbilly]

Ed Lasky is absolutely right about a lot of stuff we’ve all known for decades.

But that “how” in the column title peaked my interest. Maybe Lasky is some kind of Hollywood semi-insider, a Friends of Abe type?

No, apparently he’s an Illinois lawyer and long time Tea Party type guy who runs the American Thinker site, which explains why he has so many articles on it.

Because this one is terrible.

...

Lasky clearly thinks that “Screen Junkies” and “Punch Drunk Critics” are a couple of basement dwellers, based on their “weird” names, which are only weird if you’re a bumpkin.

In real life, Screen Junkies has 6 million YouTube subscribers. I’m one and enjoy their stuff.

Punch Drunk Critics, which I’m less familiar with, looks fun but serious, with lots of Variety-type reporting on casting, hiring and firing, release dates and projects in development.

So: Not a couple of loser weirdos, but pretty solid enterprises.

But let’s take Lasky’s word for it:

The requirements for becoming one of these influential Rotten Tomatoes critics are “relatively easy.”

Lasky doesn’t link to it, so I found the relevant page at Rotten Tomatoes. It’s pretty long.

...

This column by Ed Lasky represents American “Conservatism” at its worst:

Blowhardy, male-menopausal, tone deaf, “get off my lawn” crabbiness, but with the added awfulness of being embarrassingly naive, stylistically sub-par and factually-challenged, while convinced of one’s own cleverness — and then not even taking one’s own advice.

It would be better if people like Lasky didn’t write columns like this at all.

Self-indulgent foolishness like this does far more harm than good.

I’ve pretty much given up on reading news and political sites. Mainly because I can’t stomach to read the left wing ones, and the right wing are nearly as bad, especially the ones overran with Never Trumpers.

But yes, conservatives often are clueless on how social media and the internet works. Which is why most of the right wing billionaires put their money behind news web sites (we have too many of them already!) instead of something useful like a right wing alternative to YouTube or twitter or tumblr.

Of course, you always run the risk with those sites of who gets to define what is and what isn’t conservative. Will libertarians run the site and keep off social and religious cons? Will religious cons run the site and keep off any secular cons or social moderates? Will neocons run the site and keep off libertarians and Trump supporters? * Or will the people running it have a more live and let live approach? Conservatism is a bit more wide-ranging than progressivism and some of those factions see each other as natural enemies.

* I know I’m talking in generalities. I draw from all of those groups in one way or another, so I fear something I feel or say would be censored. I can also say that I know enough good people in each of those groups that I wouldn’t worry if they were running things. I also know enough shitty people in each group that I’d have reason to worry if the wrong kind of people got authority.

[nova0000scotia]

13 yr old’s first smartphone... mom’s 18 rules... and the story ...

Hofmann's letter to her son can be read in its entirety below: Gregory’s iPhone Contract 12/25/2012 Dear Gregory Merry Christmas! You are now the proud owner of an iPhone. Hot Damn! You are a good & responsible 13 year old boy and you deserve this gift. But with the acceptance of this present comes rules and regulations. Please read through the following contract. I hope that you understand it is my job to raise you into a well rounded, healthy young man that can function in the world and coexist with technology, not be ruled by it. Failure to comply with the following list will result in termination of your iPhone ownership. I love you madly & look forward to sharing several million text messages with you in the days to come. 1. It is my phone. I bought it. I pay for it. I am loaning it to you. Aren’t I the greatest? 2. I will always know the password. 3. If it rings, answer it. It is a phone. Say hello, use your manners. Do not ever ignore a phone call if the screen reads "Mom" or "Dad". Not ever. 4. Hand the phone to one of your parents promptly at 7:30pm every school night & every weekend night at 9:00pm. It will be shut off for the night and turned on again at 7:30am. If you would not make a call to someone’s land line, wherein their parents may answer first, then do not call or text. Listen to those instincts and respect other families like we would like to be respected. 5. It does not go to school with you. Have a conversation with the people you text in person. It’s a life skill. *Half days, field trips and after school activities will require special consideration. 6. If it falls into the toilet, smashes on the ground, or vanishes into thin air, you are responsible for the replacement costs or repairs. Mow a lawn, babysit, stash some birthday money. It will happen, you should be prepared. 7. Do not use this technology to lie, fool, or deceive another human being. Do not involve yourself in conversations that are hurtful to others. Be a good friend first or stay the hell out of the crossfire. 8. Do not text, email, or say anything through this device you would not say in person. 9. Do not text, email, or say anything to someone that you would not say out loud with their parents in the room. Censor yourself. 10. No porn. Search the web for information you would openly share with me. If you have a question about anything, ask a person – preferably me or your father. 11. Turn it off, silence it, put it away in public. Especially in a restaurant, at the movies, or while speaking with another human being. You are not a rude person; do not allow the iPhone to change that. 12. Do not send or receive pictures of your private parts or anyone else’s private parts. Don’t laugh. Someday you will be tempted to do this despite your high intelligence. It is risky and could ruin your teenage/college/adult life. It is always a bad idea. Cyberspace is vast and more powerful than you. And it is hard to make anything of this magnitude disappear – including a bad reputation. 13. Don’t take a zillion pictures and videos. There is no need to document everything. Live your experiences. They will be stored in your memory for eternity. 14. Leave your phone home sometimes and feel safe and secure in that decision. It is not alive or an extension of you. Learn to live without it. Be bigger and more powerful than FOMO – fear of missing out. 15. Download music that is new or classic or different than the millions of your peers that listen to the same exact stuff. Your generation has access to music like never before in history. Take advantage of that gift. Expand your horizons. 16. Play a game with words or puzzles or brain teasers every now and then. 17. Keep your eyes up. See the world happening around you. Stare out a window. Listen to the birds. Take a walk. Talk to a stranger. Wonder without googling. 18. You will mess up. I will take away your phone. We will sit down and talk about it. We will start over again. You & I, we are always learning. I am on your team. We are in this together. It is my hope that you can agree to these terms. Most of the lessons listed here do not just apply to the iPhone, but to life. You are growing up in a fast and ever changing world. It is exciting and enticing. Keep it simple every chance you get. Trust your powerful mind and giant heart above any machine. I love you. I hope you enjoy your awesome new iPhone. Merry Christmas! xoxoxo Mom

THE STORY:  COOL ...SO COOL Mom's phone code of conduct goes viral Leanne Italie, Tuesday, January 08, 2013 2:38 PM 　 　 NEW YORK — Janell Burley Hofmann honored her 13-year-old son's "maturity and growth" at Christmas with his first iPhone, but it came with strings attached. Eighteen strings, to be exact, in a written code of conduct that placed the mommy blogger at the center of the debate over how parents should handle technology in the hands of their teens, especially younger ones just entering the frenetic world of social networks and smartphones. Thousands of people, including those bemoaning too much helicopter parenting, commented and shared the funny, heartfelt agreement posted at the holiday by the Cape Cod, Mass., mom of five. The interest crashed her website and led her to appear with her eldest, Gregory, on morning TV. Hofmann's first order of business: "1. It is my phone. I bought it. I pay for it. I am loaning it to you. Aren't I the greatest?" She included caveats that some parenting and tech addiction experts consider crucial in easing new entrants onto Facebook, Instagram and shiny new mobile devices: You must share passwords with a parent, answer their calls, hand over said device early on school nights and a little later on weekends. You must avoid hurtful texts and porn and pay for a replacement if your phone "falls into the toilet, smashes on the ground, or vanishes into thin air." Of the latter Hofmann advises her teen, "Mow a lawn, stash some birthday money. It will happen, you should be prepared." Hofmann said in an interview that she decided on the contract as she pondered the power of the technology she and her husband were about to plop into their son's world. She was looking for a way to be present in his phone use without being a "creeper," his word for stalky, spying parents. She wasn't surprised that her list, which Greg agreed to, resonates with other parents. It also resonates with psychologist David Greenfield, a technology addiction specialist in West Hartford, Conn. "We have ritualized the gift of the smartphone," he said, yet many parents don't have the know-how, stomach, time or interest in actively guiding kids when they first jump into digital life. For some parents, he said, it's only when things go horribly wrong that attention is paid. He knows of parents who have gone so far as to jam all Internet and cell phone signals at home when they couldn't get their kids to power down. Police in Rocklin, Calif., said two girls, ages 15 and 16, used a prescription sleeping medication recently to spike the milkshakes of one's parents so they could log onto the Internet after 10 p.m. Greenfield recommends contracts like Hofmann's, if parents follow through. Others creep using apps and monitoring software. He thinks that's fine, too. There's little data broken down by age on the number of Internet users whose lives are negatively impacted by smartphones, tablets, laptops and other technology, Greenfield said. In the general population, studies range from 1 percent to 10 percent of users whose digital habits interfere with their lives. Greenfield estimates the reality is somewhere between 2 and 6 percent. Hofmann was looking for a way to open the conversation with her son. Many other parents are, obviously, concerned as well about what their teens are doing online, but also what is being done to them. In a recent report from the Pew Internet & American Life Project, 81 percent of parents with online teens said they are concerned about how much information advertisers can learn about their kids' behavior and 72 percent said they're concerned about how their children interact online with people they don't know. Nearly 70 percent said they're concerned about how their children manage their reputations online and 57 percent of kids ages 12 and 13 said they're very concerned about it. The report said parents are being more proactive, not just relying on parental-control tools such as browser filters. An increasing number are joining their kids on social media, but older parents may be approaching their kids' lives there with the wrong emotional filters. "We see it as a separation from social behavior. They see it AS social behavior," Greenfield said. "I'm not sure we're going to be able to bridge that difference generationally." More tech abuse education needs to be done in this country before teens are actively engaged, he said. In parts of Europe and Asia, for instance, kids learn how to handle their digital lives as formal training in third or fourth grade. "Here they think of it like it's part of their body, and they treat it that way," Greenfield said. Hofmann's contract is her own attempt at education. "Don't take a zillion pictures and videos. There is no need to document everything. Live your experiences. They will be stored in your memory for eternity." And she gets downright inspirational toward the bottom: "Leave your phone home sometimes and feel safe and secure in that decision. It is not alive or an extension of you. Learn to live without it. Be bigger and more powerful than FOMO — fear of missing out." Hofmann also urges her boy to, "Keep your eyes up. See the world happening around you. Stare out a window. Listen to the birds. Take a walk. Talk to a stranger. Wonder without googling." And her final word: "You will mess up. I will take away your phone. We will sit down and talk about it. We will start over again. You & I, we are always learning. I am on your team. We are in this together." Aisha Sultan in St. Louis studied parenting in the digital age as a Knight Wallace Fellow at the University of Michigan. As parents, she said, "We've sort of hit a tipping point. The conversation has shifted from wow, isn't all this technology cool to wow, how do we control it? We can't eliminate it completely." But parental frustration is mounting, Sultan said. She cited last year's case of a father who shot up his daughter's laptop over a profanity-infused Facebook rant against her parents. He recorded the act and earned more than 23 million YouTube views for his trouble. Before the conversation with our kids begins, Greenfield said, parents have to deal with their own digital obsessions. "Parents have to have limits, too," he said. "We have to be brutally honest with ourselves on our own use and abuse." Hofmann's letter to her son can be read in its entirety below: Gregory’s iPhone Contract 12/25/2012 Dear Gregory Merry Christmas! You are now the proud owner of an iPhone. Hot Damn! You are a good & responsible 13 year old boy and you deserve this gift. But with the acceptance of this present comes rules and regulations. Please read through the following contract. I hope that you understand it is my job to raise you into a well rounded, healthy young man that can function in the world and coexist with technology, not be ruled by it. Failure to comply with the following list will result in termination of your iPhone ownership. I love you madly & look forward to sharing several million text messages with you in the days to come.

4 Badass Angels: #Access4All #MentalHealth @TheWarAmps #bully #PTSD  #abuse #Grief #suicide #stigma #elders #survivor #stolengirls #inclusion #depression #climatechange #RedFriday #IG2020 #LoveisLove #MMIWG #BoysMattertoo #WhiteRibbon #Recovery #Homeless #Kind #IWD2019

[ahintogold]

Future: Nobody Safe Tour

On the heels of my Memphis in May Memorial Trip, I went to go get all of my hoodrat life at Future's concert!

Let me just say, I appreciate my friends being on top of concerts and whatnot. I have been caught up in the world of work and don't keep my ears to the street like I used to. They came across this tour and immediately started sharing details in our GroupMe!

We got the tickets and had to wait a couple of months, which was enough time to let the excitement build! The day finally came and there were a couple hiccups that could have been avoided if I wasn't in a daze the week or so prior leading up to it.

I should have taken off half of my work day instead of a few hours. My mind didn't click and think, "Hey girl, the concert is on a Friday. And you know damn well Chicago traffic is not forgiving!" This would have allowed me time to move around and meet up with my girlfriends ahead of time and to grab some snacks and water.

All that aside, I beat them to the venue (which is nice and pretty intimate for an outside venue) and found a cute little spot on the lawn, laid my blanket out and got comfortable. As they arrived and found where I was I started to get that snack itch. Went and grabbed a, one, single drink and some nachos (not the fancy kind, just cheese-chips-peppers) and damn near spent $30. NEVER AGAIN! I'll plan ahead and bring my own.

The concert didn't start on time, which was a blessing and I was able to catch all the acts! Kodak Black was supposed to be on the bill but he's spending a little time in jail. He was replaced by Zoey Dollaz (who I've never heard of). Then the line up was of familiar names: A$AP Ferg, Tory Lanez, Migos and Future.

I had the time of my life and sang my little voice away. Everyone was high energy and the crowd gave it right back. The best part was when Future came out on stage with this jacket that we kept calling "Big Bird." On the way out, I couldn't find my car, lol, and gave up looking for a sec since the parking lot traffic was insane. I eventually found my honey and got the heck up outta dodge.

The only real drawback of the night besides the highly overpriced refreshments waaassssss... Hollywood Casino Amphitheater didn't have any real structure to parking or getting out of the venue. When we left it looked like a scene from E2. Ya'll remember that tragedy? Maybe I'm being dramatic but if someone gave a serious push or fell, the entire crowd would have been affected negatively.

Didn't take many pictures but I did grab some from my girls!

I was talking to a friend and it reminded me that I would like to share a little Concert Etiquette with you all!

1. Please do not use the word "nigga!" Censor your muthaf*ckin mouth like you're the radio version. 

2. Be mindful of where you step: blankets, fingers, toes, shoes, personal belongings.

3. The words, "excuse me" alleviate a lot of tension and may save you in the long run.

4. Personal space is, well, just that PERSONAL SPACE!

5. Don't push when we are trying to leave the venue, we all want to go home and don't want to be stuck around strangers.

XO Loves,

Angela

[workreveal-blog]

Best Games for Android and Ios

New Post has been published on https://workreveal.biz/best-games-for-android-and-ios/

Best Games for Android and Ios

Innovation is an overused and abused word inside the era industry but if you strip it all the way down to the primary principle of “new thoughts”, it’s clear that there’s a lot of it happening in cell video games. While you acquire some the best examples together, you realise how many new ideas are out there. For instance, there have been a few innovative experiments with the concept of interactive fiction, from the round-the-world thrills of Eighty Days to the beat-the-censors tale of Blackbeard.

game

There are video games that play with sound in new and thrilling approaches: Papa Sangre II is performed entirely via listening rather than searching, at the same time as Darkish Echo visualises your sounds on the screen. Each is – and this can not be a twist of fate – some of the creepiest cell video games available.

Some video games get you transferring within the actual global: wandering within the case of Ingress; jogging on your (virtual) life with Zombies, Run!; or even dancing with Bounden. Smartwatch video games like Lifeline: Silent Night and Spy_Watch play with the capacity of storytelling for your wrist.

Video games exploring actual-world problems consist of Endgame: Syria and Papers, Please and others splice collectively new genres, such as Framed, with its movement-comic puzzles, and ambient grow-’em-up Prune.

Even for acquainted genres, there are new thoughts: Twofold Inc unearths a brand new twist on fit-3 puzzling; Capitals reinvents the competitive phrase recreation, and Middle of the Famous night person finds a manner for first character shooters to paintings well on touchscreens.

Study on for a listing of fifty games attempting new things to your cell gadgets, often under the limelight on the pinnacle of the app keep charts.

One very last, essential point: the video games on this listing are modern. However, they’re additionally terrific. Technical invention or genre crossovers married to a poor recreation are of little price to players. What the developers of this feature have managed is to ally fun games new thoughts with fun gameplay.

80 Days

Android/iOS (£three/£3.99) Phileas Fogg’s great adventure around the arena reworked as an interactive steampunk-themed novel. It’s an entirely clever concept, but that cleverness by no means gets in the way of the tale: you’ll need to Examine and play it several instances to try different routes.

android

Journey Time recreation Wizard Android/iOS (£3.ninety six/£three.ninety nine) In its normal Adventure mode, this is a fun platform entertainment primarily based on famous cool animated film Journey Time. But the real amusing comes While you begin drawing your degrees – on paper or display – sharing them with different players and trying out their efforts.

An Observe in Steampunk Android/iOS (£2.99/£three.18) Publisher Preference of games has launched a succession of interactive novels, with the innovation being its engine for wrapping the tale around your choices. That is an excellent example: 277,000 words of narrative with you within the prestigious position. Also, try zombie survival games.

Blackbar

Android/iOS (£1.22/£2.29) One of the apps exploring a blend of literature and gaming, Blackbar is a recreation told via text – censored letters between its main characters where you need to guess the phrases hidden via the black bars. Also take a look at its prequel, Gray out.

Blown Away Android/iOS (Free + IAP/£2.29) That is an attractive platform recreation starring a contented hero named Hendrik, who wears “teleporting footwear”. They’re the important thing to the sport’s twist at the style: you teleport across the stages rather than jumping, which brings new puzzle-fixing possibilities.

Bounden Android/iOS (£2.ninety nine/£2.29) You’ll want your associate in this recreation to be a person with whom you’re comfortable sharing private area. It’s “a mixture of Twister and ballet” as you Both maintain your phone and follow its commands to bounce together to the classic track. Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons iOS (£three.99) A lovely story, as you manage Two brothers trying to find a therapy for his or her ailing father. You manipulate Each brother straight away with onscreen joysticks. However, it’s the narrative – and a now-well-known twist – that packs a strangely emotional punch.

Capitals: Loose phrase War

iOS (Free + IAP) Words With Buddies did a first activity of turning Scrabble right into a multiplayer cell word-battler. Capitals are truly resourceful, though: a word sport that involves capturing tiles on a display screen and conquering your opponent flip using the turn.

Clumsy Ninja Android/iOS (Free + IAP) Clumsy Ninja can be getting on a chunk now however it remains One of the most innovative man or woman-driven games on the cell. You teach up to the, to begin with, klutzy warrior via mini-video games. However, it’s the console best animation that offers him the baggage of person.

Code Warriors: Hakitzu Battles iOS (Loose) How do you make mastering to software more enjoyable for children? Getting them to War giant mecha-robots with their fledgeling JavaScript competencies is how Code Warriors strategies it. Children can War by myself or tackle their Facebook Buddies’ bots.

Crashlands

Android/iOS (£four.22/£three.ninety nine) The developers say this game is a “crafting RPG”, which neatly summarises its gameplay. After crash-landing on an alien planet, you have to forage, fight and craft your manner in the world. The way the game opens up the extra you play is extraordinary. Darkish Echo Android/iOS (£1.49) A spooky recreation that relies on “visualised sound” to explore its eighty ranges. Which means you’re making sounds which ping off the barriers round you in the sport’s international, making pretty photos on display screen. The enemy you face, even though, is far from quite… Does no longer Shuttle Android/iOS (Loose + IAP) This tears up the conventional driving sport format by means of setting you in charge of a small town’s rush hour – controlling all of the motors. Count on masses of crashes, although it’s fun instead of irritating, and includes a exercise mode to refine your competencies.

ios

Endgame: Syria Android (Loose) Basing video games on real-global wars can be intricate – this exploration of the conflict in Syria had to be remodeled as Endgame: Eurasia to get an iOS launch. On Android, it’s uncensored and, Two years after its release, still makes you think hard.

Evoland Android/iOS (£3.forty nine/£3.99) A love letter to role-gambling games (RPG) inside the form of a game that evolves its manner via the style’s records. It starts because the kind of monochrome RPG that you may have performed on a recreation Boy, and finally ends up as a lush-looking 3D Journey. You can also try plants vs. zombies game.

Framed Android/iOS (£1.74/£2.99) This has been defined as a “movement-comic puzzler” – the primary in the genre. It’s an excellent description, too: you play the game by using rearranging animated comic-strip panels to progress through its story. An atmospheric jazz soundtrack adds to the enchantment.

Guitar Hero Live iOS (Free + IAP) In 2015, console gamers were rocking out in their dwelling rooms another time with a brand new Guitar Hero game. This time though Apple Tv proprietors may want to be part of in: the iOS version of the sport may be played on the Tv, complete with its own guitar-controller bundle.

Her story iOS (£3.ninety nine) Fancy playing detective? Her story is a gripping homicide-thriller based entirely round video footage of interviews with the leader suspect. Your task is to observe the clips, assume of recent seek terms to mine the video database, and discern out the fact.

Ingress Android/iOS (Unfastened + IAP) Less a recreation, extra a way of lifestyles for its keenest fanatics: this is the first-class instance of region-primarily based gaming yet. You pick a side in its sci-fi plot, then explore the sport’s surroundings as you wander around the real international, running on my own or with fellow gamers. Also, try black ops zombies

Letterpad: Loose word Puzzles

iOS (Unfastened + IAP) On iPhone and iPad, Letterpad is a easy, addictive letter-puzzles game, in which you discover phrases regarding more than 200 subject matters in 3×3 grids. Its innovation comes with its Apple Watch edition, with the sport working easily on the smartwatch.

  Minecraft: Pocket Version Android/iOS/Windows Smartphone (£4.99/£four.99/£five.39) An obvious choice, perhaps, but even for pro players, Minecraft is capable of regular surprises as you discover its blocky landscapes. The sport that cast a new genre from open-global crafting – and one whose mobile model is improving rapid. Also, try shoot vs. shot.

  Monument Valley Android/iOS/Windows Phone (£2.99 + IAP) Some parts of Monument Valley are familiar but it’s the manner this architectural puzzler puts them collectively that feels so sparkling. You need to slide, twist and flip the surroundings in its geometrically beautiful stages to clear up the mazes. Excellent.

Movement Tennis Android/iOS (Unfastened + IAP/£three.ninety nine) Bear in mind how you can play tennis on Nintendo’s Wii by way of swinging your arms within the actual international? Movement Tennis performs a comparable trick along with your phone and an Apple Television or Chromecast plugged into your Tv. You’ll need a firm grip on your Telephone, mind.

Neko Atsume: Kitty Collector

Android/iOS (Unfastened + IAP) The sector’s only – as some distance as we’re aware – cat-collecting sport. This Japanese game is as quirky as they come: you place meals to your lawn to attract cats, logging them in a digital “catbook” and hoping for rarities. Lovely and very addictive.

New Superstar Soccer Android/iOS/Home windows Phone (Unfastened + IAP) You could play FIFA on your telephone or tablet, and it’s spectacular, however New Famous person Soccer has finished the satisfactory activity of rethinking soccer for the small screen. Retro portraits belie genuinely addictive gameplay and pixel-perfect touch controls.

  So that was best Android and Ios games that you can find.