#-and Arise is... fine. Not bad and most complaints are more about it not being better. Interesting setting that fumbles the 3rd act to end.

[karmicrespite]

Tales of Berseria sure is a game.

sorry, but I have not. Could you explain?

I think you should give it a try and meet the hardcore vore onee-san.

[oswednesday]

Bnha is a fine series for what it is but i just can't understand my problem with it - like, having read from the beginning it feels like it lost some aspects that i enjoyed or moved away from things i thought it was setting up.

On some level i attribute it to my 'the hundred chapter shounen curse" where around a hundred chapters in most shounen just dip in quality. But it's not quite like that.

I do agree with some people's complaints about setting deku up as hyper analytical character but then providing him a 'punch harder' flying brick powerset.

I do wonder how the series could have handled it if they had just let deku be op from the beginning, as i feel exploring the quirk have vs havenot stuff couldve been more explicit if they did that.

Also Bakugo is such a genius addition for the story. His 'no i want to be a hero moment' was great

And i know this complaint is just all shounen but i wish the women characters could have more to do / more focus without having to deal with the shounen enforced gender roles death trap.

I should read through it again and actually analyze some of the themes, might help me learn what i disliked about the transition to longer running

i dont think the solution or the problem is like what if the characters were x and y and z instead tho that is a fun thought exercise! i was rolling this ask over in my head a bunch because i feel much the same, i think where the Problem arises happens in pretty much everything the seams are just more noticeable in a shounen cause theyre unfortunately expected to follow a set of stuff to be publishable and marketable as that, this happens in usamerican comics too so i think ill use that to talk about it like, what we get introduced to is an intimate story in a world like our own but not exactly, much of the mystery of the world is concealed to us, the conflicts are close to the protagonist our window into the world, the antagonist feel so much bigger theyre a huge unknown, as the story progresses the intimacy is often lost , all things have these growing pains of course, i think for bnha in order to like have stretch marks instead of tearing the antagonists would have had to get more complicated and the protagonists interactions with that would have had to get more in depth and serious and there would have had to been bigger and bigger consequences while there are eventually it ends up feeling just like expected beats so with that loss and familiarity the charge of the story is lost?

to talk about something like, power and story creep, like superhero stuff often starts intimate does it? like you learn about the protagonist and youre close to the inner struggles, the antagonists are larger than life and often pale behind The Real Big Bad but you dont even know yet! its mysterious and scary! but then the world opens up and its like with batman in the greater dcu, doesnt that ruin the sort of intimacy knowing someone with god like powers is a phone call away? thinking about how the animated series teen titans handles that by keeping the stories really close and interpersonal and the characters' antagonists always these figures just one step away from being understood its like theyre scary!

but bnha let the air out real fast on a lot of stuff while never moving them beyond, what are we suppose to feel about all for one or about tomura or about any over them, like we'd get a lore dump and the status quo would remain! i think about like the who is the traitor arc and how that doesnt matter after everything cause of how big a jump the comic made in that, while that happens and sometimes it happens real good, it sort of becomes plug in play doesnt it like did the overhaul stuff really serve the narrative where it was in the story? was that really the best way to handle dabi's narrative? like it feels like a list of check off marks!!! and of course its in some part because its a serialized comic series

but teal deer its like Pacing and Plot economy, what you lose in intimacy and being on the ground floor at the start you make up for with like overwhelming your other senses as the series becomes ungrounded and seemingly further away from like, the opening wound but it has to be there in secret the whole time so that by the time it ends you feel that it was there the entire time! of course thats just for stories like this, its like theres also a lack of examination and exploring that was found in earlier chapters but maybe thatll get coaxed out more, its a bit of that like naruto problem or star wars problem even like not much point in being like The Good Guys Are Actually Not But The Other side Is Morally Ambitious and Not Evil if youre like side evil eats babies and the good guys are heroes periodt like, well, whatever! waste my time

[asset35-maya]

Reed900 meet-cute: disciplinary action (3/3)

“Be yourself.”

“What?”

“Just be yourself now.”

Gavin and Nines exchanged incredulous looks. They were approaching the end of the disciplinary workshop. Wasn’t the whole point to not be themselves?

Simon smiled in his usual mild manner. By now they had learnt it could only mean trouble.

“I’ve read your files. Neither of you know how to mince words. Neither of you are gentle.

Your Homicide colleagues consistently complain about your hostility and lack of respect, Detective Reed. And you, Agent Nines. You have a history of being rough with everyone you encounter on the field. Even civilians.

I can see you’ve both been on your best behaviour the past three days. Not sure who you’re trying to impress...”

Simon glanced between them, still smiling sweetly.

“But you can be yourself now.”

He took a step back and waved at the group to begin the last activity:

Jenga.

Giant Jenga.

Pairs vs pairs, with one person blindfolded and the other giving instructions.

Gavin groaned as they found themselves facing Allen and Sixty. The two grinned back, well aware of their competitive advantage. Who could be better coordinated than two SWAT teammates turned lovers?

Definitely not Gavin and Nines.

After a twisted ankle and three fallen jenga towers, Gavin ripped off his blindfold and rounded on Nines. 

“Your directions suck.”

“My directions are fine. It’s not my fault you can’t comprehend them.”

“It’s literally your fault I’m picking the wrong blocks!”

“My communications modules are the most advanced-”

“Shut up and switch with me. I’ll give the instructions. I outrank you anyway.”

Nines took the blindfold coolly.

“I don’t need your instructions. My perception and cognition software is more than enough.”

He shoved past Gavin to get to the tower of blocks. Sixty was waiting for him, smirking.

Nines proceeded to ignore all of Gavin’s barked commands… and fared just as badly as the human had. When their opponents decided to indulge in a makeout session after a particularly spectacular collapse, Nines faced him angrily.

“Stop distracting me!”

“Not that advanced, huh? This is why you should listen to your superiors.”

“Superior? How insecure do you have to be to pull rank in the middle of a bar game?”

Easily inflamed as ever, Gavin barged up to the android.

“The fuck you say to me, plastic? INSECURE? I’ll show you insecure!”

Nines’ LED went bright red. He put his hands on Gavin’s chest and shoved the human out of his personal space.

A scuffle began.

A much needed adrenaline surge after three days of inane indoor activities.

An outlet.

An irrational sense of relief.

A heavy blow to a steel midsection. An uppercut that only narrowly missed a jaw that was broken twice before. A mechanical hand catching a calloused fist.

It ended with Gavin pinned to a wall. There was silence as the other cops stopped tinkering with their block towers. Allen sat down with a sigh and Sixty climbed into his lap to watch the fun.

“Whatcha gonna do, big guy? Snap my neck? They’ll have you shut down in no time.”

There was only a deep growl in response. Gavin struggled against the iron grip.

“That all you got? Try showing off with something you weren’t built with!”

Nines released him immediately and slackened against the wall beside him. He stared at his own hands in shock.

With the return of blood flow to his wrists, Gavin released that he had just put himself in very grave danger. For the second time in his stupid life, he had tried to fight a military grade android. His head suddenly felt sore where Connor had given him a concussion a year ago. It started to sink in that his volatility was a serious problem. He was a danger to himself. Feeling faint, Gavin leaned against the wall.

LED spinning a calm blue, Simon strolled over from where he had been mentoring another group.

“Oh good. That’s what I was waiting for.”

The two merely looked at the blond android, eyes unfocused, chests heaving.

“I honestly thought the SWAT lovebirds would be the pair to implode first, but no matter, this is still a teachable moment. Gather round, everyone.”

The others approached cautiously. The pair looked like they would relapse into violence any second.

“You must have all realised that my activities have little material value themselves. You must be wondering what any part of my workshop has to do with police discipline… Allow me to explain.

Day One served to profile each officer beyond the complaints made against them. I then matched pairs based on the closest personality dysfunctions. Day Two was used to build a working relationship within each pair, and Day Three, today, was the stress test. The intent… was definitely to give everyone a taste of their own medicine… but also to let you all see how exactly your toxic behaviours could have developed… using your partner as a mirror.

Detective Reed and Agent Nines. Let’s unpack what happened here. You’ve gotten to know each other fairly well by now. You recognise each other’s competence and drive. You’ve shared laughs at other people’s expense. You even empathise with each other’s seeming lack of emotional intelligence. I think you might even have taken a liking to each other, no?”

Gavin and Nines chanced a glance at each other. There was a mutual feeling of foolishness. Simon went on.

“You both were on your best behaviour… until you succumbed to your superiority complexes and quick tempers. The only thing different from what usually happens at work was the person on the receiving end. This time, it was someone who could take it… and maybe even someone who deserved it. Detective, it’s been long since someone gave back insults as good your own, no? And Agent Nines, isn’t this is the first time a human has even tried to resist your use of force?”

Sixty had stopped listening and was trying to move Allen’s attention back to himself. The older man had the audacity to shush the android in his lap… and then the second squabble of the day begun. Simon smiled indulgently and held up a finger.

“I’ll be with you two in a moment, gentlemen. Let me wrap things up for this pair.

My point to the both of you is… you might go around thinking you’re the big bad wolf, but there’s always another wolf just around the corner. He might even be bigger. So there’s no pride to be taken in putting down the sheep around you. It’s embarrassing, really. So stop it. My sincere hope is that you will both remember what happened here the next time an impulse to terrorise an innocent colleague arises.

But if you simply must be a wolf… I suggest that you find your pack, for a lone wolf is a danger to himself and everyone around.”

Simon turned away and reached for Sixty’s hand to interface. He then began to break down the reasons for the mutual over-dependence between the SWAT android and his captain.

Gavin and Nines remained slumped against the wall. Even the RK900 seemed exhausted after the emotional rollercoaster they’d been on… from irritation and anger, to shock and bewilderment. Several moments passed and then Gavin suddenly reached within his jacket pocket and produced his phone. He held it out sideways to Nines.

“What?”

“He said to form a pack.”

Nines hesitated, but then quickly touched a finger to the device. Gavin glanced down at the new contact. It was saved as “Alpha 9Z”.

He looked up with a half-smirk, half-snarl on his face and found the same expression mirrored on the android’s face.

[timexistsnow]

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 2: i lie to myself (it's better for you)

Techno takes care of the pup. Complications arise.

Techno woke better than he had in weeks. That wasn’t to say his back was sore, he never slept curled on his side, used to passing out in a chair by his books. But, still, for once, he woke up naturally and not out of fear. Not out of necessity. The window behind him showed the sun nearly halfway up, oh, wow, he had slept for nearly ten hours. Techno stretched out, his hooves poking out of the woolen blanket.

A grumble escaped from under the blankets. Techno screeched internally, he forgot about the pup. She must be annoyed at the loss of warmth… Too bad, Techno had things to do. Poking her to make her move was a bad idea as it turned out: she bit at his fingers, or at least Techno found out once he threw the blanket away at the sharp pain in his poking hand. Once exposed, she glared at him and… didn’t let go. Ummm. Techno blinked and looked away. Sighing, he lifted his hand up until she was forced to release him.

“We’ve got things to do, sorry, kiddo,” Uh, kiddo, yeah, he definitely meant to say that. Shaking that off along with the blanket, he waited for the pup to scooch out of the bed before he followed. His cloak slithered out of the bed, falling to the floor. Letting out a squeal, the pup picked it up and fastened it around themselves, trailing like a wedding dress. Techno let her and got out a spare cloak of his own. The ladder was beginning to become a nuisance, being forced to carry her everywhere. But Techno still scooped the pup up once more and brought her back to the table.

Her snout was looking much better, but he still felt it necessary to top it off with one more potion. With this much time in between, she wouldn't get sick. He unscrewed the cork and handed it over. A hooved hand reached in- “Wait, no just drink it-” and it was too late, her chunky fingers were doused. Why? Why was she like this?

She grimaced at the taste this time- healing was supposed to be good, it’s glistering melon flavored, literally made of gold-, but her hand was licked clean and the bottle was replaced with a baked potato. She made a grabby hand at Techno, though, looking rather cross at him. Techno paused, a golden carrot halfway to his mouth. Techno rolled his eyes, “Come on, you had one yesterday!”

Grabby hands once more, Techno couldn’t resist it: he placed a carrot on the table, just out of her reach. That didn’t stop her as he had hoped, she scrambled out of her seat and onto the tabletop. Techno grabbed back the carrot, not amused.

“No,” he ground out.

Standing on the table, the pup squealed. He shook his head, it was his house, she needed to learn some manners.

The man held the potato just out of his reach. The rope snapped taut when he lunged forward desperately, wrenching his snout back. Now collapsed on the cobbled floor, Techno squealed, he was so hungry.

“You’ll get it after… I promise,” that seemed to calm her down, sliding off of the table and back into her seat. Techno was getting tired of standing. Well, it didn’t matter that much, she would be leaving… today, actually. As long as Techno got her real clothes- which meant going into the village- and didn’t dawdle.

They finished their breakfast and the pup got her carrot. Tragically, the taste of this gold didn’t seem to bother her. Fine, it was clothing time.

Getting her loaded onto Carl wasn’t as hard as Techno had imagined it to be, the pup whispered something like, “Skinny. Hoglin,” and grasped onto his mane. At the clank of Carl’s armor, she startled, one of her hands knocking against the diamond, “Bad.”

“It’s diamond?”

She nodded, “Bad.” Offering no more context, she went back to playing with Carl’s mane.

Techno wrapped one arm around her, securing her in place as he snapped Carl’s reins. He stayed under a trot, not wanting to risk the pup. Breathing in and out, in and out, Techno closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t really have a personal vendetta against villagers, they just unsettled him, that’s all. No other reason to not have done many efforts in establishing trades.

“We’ll pay you back! Just give us the loan, man. It’s like any other trade. So what if it's a piglet, they all die in the end either way, natural or not!”

No. Not now.

Unmounting and helping the pup down to the snowy ground, Techno scanned for a family nearby. Villagers were usually nice, but it helped to find the right kind of villager first. There, an adult talking to a child, both wearing new winter gear. That would mean they had some spare, old clothing.

Techno set his shoulders and approached the pair. “Um… Hellooo,” wow, this was awkward, “Would you like to trade?”

The villager took it in stride, even as their child ran off, “Oh, don’t mind him, he just wanted to play, heh heh herm,” They laughed, paling at the sight of Techno’s axe. Techno’s lip curled, his cloak was blowing in the wind and he nudged it to show his sword as well. “What would you like to trade?”

“I need clothes for a child, her size,” He gestured to the pup clinging to his leg.

The villager showed his teeth, more of a grimace than a smile. Techno swore he heard something, “Oh, heavens, he has offspring,” but was waved forward before he could contemplate it. They were led to a chapel, close to where Techno had entered the village. Inside, there was a chest, similar to the one Techno had in his attic by his bed. “This is where we store our spear clothes, I’m sure something will fit. It is tradition to donate-,” The villager looked Techno up and down, “Actually, you shouldn’t worry about it. Please, help yourself. And leave.”

The pup stepped forward and leaned into the chest, pulling out different garments. She found a hat brimmed with wool and tugged it over her ears. It fit alright, a little tight. Her ears might be a little too squished, Techno thought, he would have to make a new one or adjust that one.

Peering over the piglin, he studied each garment that the pup discarded. Two coats, one pair of trousers, a dress, and a single mitten. All of those would fit decently. The dress was the only thing suitable for the Nether as it was the thinnest, but it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to have spare. Techno nodded at his bounty, yeah, that seemed reasonable.

Right as they were about to leave, Techno spotted something. It was a little dropbox that read “Donations welcomed and expected,” oh, that was what the villager was going to tell him to do. He wasn’t required to give them anything, they should be thankful that he didn’t take the clothes right off of a child’s back. They did not deserve anything from him.

Techno stalked over to the box and wrenched it open. He stumbled back with the force, causing the pup to oink. She was looking over at him, nearly swamped by the pile of clothes she was carrying. “Gold?”

Techno sighed and looked down into the box, nope just a few emeralds and some iron nuggets. This was pitiful.

“No. I was just… looking.”

The piglin tried to peek in but wasn’t tall enough, “No. Take?”

Techno shook his head, he had more than enough at home and there wasn’t a reason to do this. Not a good one. “Let’s just go home. Get you dressed.”

Techno didn’t bother to wash the clothes, they smelled good enough. The newness of them seemed to satisfy the pup, not a single complaint about them being second hand. Then again, she loved the cloak and that wasn’t even hers.

Thankfully, the dress was close to her size. The light cyan of it didn’t exactly match the red cloak which bothered Techno a bit. He had cared about his clothes ever since he had started to wear them. And, style, duh.

Once she wiggled her way into the dress and the cloak was fastened around her shoulders- okay this was ridiculous, he needed to make the thing shorter. He… might do that. Only if he had time.

The clothes were packed into his chest of clothes and they went down the ladder into the common room. Edward the enderman vwooped from his boat by the fire, maybe he liked her outfit. That made one of them.

The pup tilted her head and jiggled the boat, making Edward gargle. Techno grabbed her hand, “Hey, leave him alone.”

“Why?” She reached back for the boat, “Bad.” He tugged her back.

“Edward did nothing, he’s a good guy.”

“Good?” she looked baffled.

“Yeah, not all hostile mobs are inherently bad.” And not all peaceful mobs are inherently good. “Edwards vibin’, let him be.”

“V- Vibin’? What?”

Techno shrugged, leaning back against the wall door. “Vibing is like relaxing. Or feeling good. Vibin’s a good thing.”

She hummed back and waved at Edward, not making eye contact, “Edward. Vibin’. Good.” Edward vwooped at her, happy purple particles seeping from his being. His block was still with him, grasped in spindly fingers.

Thinking about it, “If Ranboo is half enderman, does he do the block thing as well?” The pup blinked at him, but Edward vwooped twice, maybe he was a cousin?

“Who. Rambo?”

“Ranboo, and he’s a guy who lives far away. Looks a little like Edward.”

The pup squealed, startling Techno and the enderman, something in piglish. It was the same thing that he had been called by the piglins before they were killed by his sword. She repeated it and added, “Ranboo. Me.” Did she know him?

“What?” Techno didn’t get it. The word was always said in anger when piglins charged. But it was also only said to people and not hoglins. They had called her it when they were hunting her. “Ohhh, you mean Ranboo and you are that?” Whatever that was.

She shook her head, “Say. Not. Understand.”

Techno’s brain hurted. He took a wild guess “They call you it but they aren’t correct?”

She did a little happy dance, hopping from hoof to hoof, “Ranboo. Enderman... First! Me,” she pulled at her ears and tusks, “First.”

She was a hybrid, of course! “You’re a half piglin, half human, aren't you?” He was getting it, finally. The word must be some kind of insult or slur for humans.

“No.”

Or not.

“Most. Piglin.”

“And the piglins didn’t like the other part.” He got it. Mostly. Probably.

She didn’t offer anything else. Just toddled around the room and climbed into her chair. Food time. Techno didn’t fight her on the carrot thing. He had other priorities.

According to her, she wasn’t a normal hybrid- half and half- like Fundy or Schlatt, more like Ranboo (who she somehow knew?), who was an Enderman primarily and something second. Hybrids like Ranboo and the pup were rare, as most intelligent people were somewhat human, why: he didn’t know. When looking at the server as a whole, that held true, only Ranboo, the pup, and Techno himself being the exceptions- as far as he knew. Techno was not a hybrid.

“We’ll make it into something cool, this time won’t we? That, or we’ll kill you on accident, but ‘tis the consequence of science!”

The pup interrupted his thoughts by poking him with her carrot. “You. Word. Like. Ranboo?” Did he have a word like Ranboo? A name?

He… never told her his name. Why was he like this… “Techno… just Techno.”

She mouthed it out and gave it a shot, “T- Teh, Teh-chno. Techno?”

“That’s it!” he smiled, “What’s your word?”

She quirked her head, “No,” and munched on her carrot. Techno blanched, he never asked her name and all this time she never even had a name. What? Who raised this kid… no one. Ah. “Is. Bad?”

“That you don’t have one: bad. But not you, you’re good.” His voice garbled at the end, making him wheeze and gasp. It’d been a while since he’s spoken with the voices.

She wasn’t fazed by it, finishing her carrot. “Give,” her hands went grabby at Techno, “Word.”

Oh, no, Techno wasn’t prepared to name her. Everyone knew that curse: name it and you can’t let it go. It would be- no he could get away with this. Just name her and put her straight through the portal, simple. He couldn’t leave her nameless, though, that would be pathetic.

Decision made, he pushed himself off of the wall and waved at her to follow him outside. In his haste, he forgot her size, so when she started down the front steps one at a time, he scooped her up. She patted his face in thanks.

“We’ll give you a name on the way back to the Nether, how’s that?” He didn’t bother getting Carl, he needed the extra time.

She pushed against his chest, getting a full view of his face. Her lip curled and she squealed, “No!”

“Did you not want a name? I thought you asked for one.” Yeah, he remembered correctly, she did ask.

“No. Nether,” she insisted. Oh. Well, they’d get there either way, so:

“How about we focus on the name,” that succeeded in distracting her, the pushing ceased. Her little legs wrapped around his torso and her tusks dug into his chest. “Meridith, uh, Lucy, Willow. Maybe… Harriet or Kim?” At each suggestion, the tusks dug harder and harder into his shirt. Soon it would rip, if he didn’t hurry up. “Come on, give a guy some help.”

“Like. Techno.” Okay, that narrowed it down. Six letters? Ending in no? Starting with T… that was probably it.

“How about… Tasha? That’s a nice name, it ends with a vowel like mine, has a T, is short for a longer name…”

During his rambling, the pup had been mouthing out the word, tusks pushing less and less as she leaned back against his arms. Now in his face, she oinked, looking rather happy. “You wanna be Tasha?”

“Me. Word. Tasha!”

It was my, but still, “That’s good, little pup. Little Tasha.” Great. Now he was getting soft.

And now he had to be tough, as the portal was only a chunk away. Poor kid. This was going to be rough. “Tasha, it’s time to go home now.”

“No!”

Techno closed his eyes, “Tasha, please-”

“No! Bad. Place. Me,” she squealed out the piglish insult, “In. Nether!” Tasha smashed her spindly limbs against Techno, her eyes starting to water. “Me. Tasha. With. Techno!” She was full sobbing now.

And.

Techno was tearing up. No. No. he should be The Blade: ruthless and a killer. A piglin had no sway over him. But Tasha… He should never have named her! He was so stupid, crying over a stupid baby with a stupid name that he was stupid enough to give.

He blamed the voices. He blamed them for making him turn around. He blamed them for leaving the portal, piglin in hand. He blamed them for making him care so very much.

Techno- he couldn’t do this to the pup. Tasha would get mauled the moment he left her alone, the piglins would have no mercy. And her knowing that she could be free of the piglins, that she was once free of the piglins would make it so much worse. Techno was too far in, he couldn’t take it back, not after this.

But… still. He was a killer of orphans, Tasha didn’t exactly fit in his routine.

So as he walked them back home, to their home, he promised himself that he wouldn't be controlled over the voices. He promised himself, he promised Tasha that she was just staying a little longer, until someone else came that could care for her better.

He promised as he sat down in his library chair all tucked away in the attic. As Tasha snuggled down, her crying still not stopped. And as he shushed her and gave her a carrot to chew on: he won’t get any more attached. He can’t let himself get any more attached, not if he wants Tasha to live any better than she did in the Nether. No matter how good it was now, it could always get worse.

Techno rubbed her back, the sobs turning into soft whimpers. He slipped a book out from the shelf and opened it to a random page. It was the Art of War, something he’d read a thousand times cover to cover. Tasha didn’t turn around to read with him, but she listened and felt his voice rumble through his chest.

“You’ll be alright, Tasha,” he whispered, the pup already drifting off. Techno let his head fall back, making a clunk on the wooden chair. They’d be alright. As long as Techno kept his promise.

Simple.

[lavishedinjimin]

a little bit of sugar, daddy [5]

↳ Pairing: taehyung x reader

↳ genre: smut

↳ rating: 18+   

↳ word count: 5.6k

↳ warnings: dom!tae, sugardaddy!tae, ceo!tae, SPANKING!!, dirty talk obv

— synopsis: Taehyung - a sugardaddy and a businessman, a man who derives his life from sex, pleasure, and money. Y/n - a girl working at a small cafe, whose sex life is as dry as the weekly delivered coffee beans. Will Y/n adjust to the new lifestyle she agreed to, and keep up with all of the dirty antics with Taehyung? 

Taehyung’s eyes widen for a quick moment, but he immediately replaces it with a simple smile. He walks over to you and makes a come here motion with his index finger. You gulped, your heart thumping against your chest as the feeling of suspicion fills your body. You made your way to him, his smile never fading. He holds your shoulders as he caresses them gently. He looks down at you, “Wait for me in the living room, Y/n. Okay?”

You furrow your brows as you shook your head side to side, being absolutely confused. “Why is she here?” You look over his shoulder to see Crissy standing there with her arms crossed in front of her, a sly smirk plastered on her face. There was something skeptical about this situation, and you weren’t feeling the atmosphere. It was like they were talking about you.

You were perplexed by Taehyung’s look, it seems like the situation was nothing for him. His smile went even bigger and without expecting it, he gives a quick peck on your lips. “Let me handle this, angel. Will you trust me?” His eyes burned deep into yours, and you couldn’t help but get lost in it. You clenched your jaw, finally nodding. “Okay,” he releases your shoulders, “Be a good girl and wait for me.”

You quickly scurried to his living room and sat on the L-shaped couch. You couldn’t help but get anxious, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Taehyung, in the meantime, turned back to Crissy who was holding back a laugh. Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Can you just get to your point. Why are you here?”

She chuckles, running her left hand through her blonde hair. “Jus’ wanted to see if you’re down with another girl,” she simply shrugs as she looks over to where you were sitting, playing with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, she seems so plain and boring, Tae.”

Taehyung senses his veins fill with rage as he tried his best not to lay a hand on her, “Absolutely not,” he spoke with a deep voice, enunciating every syllable carefully, “I’m not like you, Crissy. I don’t go around and find some random chicks I wanna fuck then throw them out the next day. What I did with you was the most regretful thing I’ve ever done.” He spat, his dark eyes bold with anger.

“Come on, you know my boyfriend knows nothing,” she says with a giggle, stepping closer to Taehyung. He steps back quickly, clenching his jaw as he stared down at her.

“I don’t lie, not unlike you.” He says within gritted teeth.

Crissy groans, the loud sound makes you turn your head to them. You frown when you still see Taehyung’s angered expression. What were they on about?

You saw how she steps a foot towards Taehyung, placing a hand on his chest. She leans forward and whispers something in his ear, her mouth curved in a smirk. Your eyes widen at the sight, jealousy arising your body. You gulp and immediately looked away.

Taehyung, on the other hand, quickly pushes her away, but not enough to make her stumble. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“God, Tae, you’ve become so boring now. You probably got that from Y/n. Don’t you wanna have fun and fuck two girls?” She bites her lip, but Taehyung just looks at her with utter disgust. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

“Y/n is not boring at all, Crissy. In fact, she’s the most interesting person I’ve ever met. You have no right to say that if you don’t know who she really is,” he bites the inside of his cheeks for a moment before continuing, “And no. Final answer. Now get out of my house.”

To Taehyung’s relief, she doesn’t say anything more than a blunt “Fine, whatever.” She sighs heavily, smiling up at his face. “Well, if you finally get your mind together and stop fucking that dull little bitch then you know where to find me,” she winks, and Taehyung couldn’t hold it in any longer. He roughly grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. Taehyung’s eyes were filled with fury, the veins in his neck protruding. 

“You don’t talk to my girl like that, you hear me? You watch who you’re talking to, Crissy, you don’t know what I can do.” He growls at her, but the smirk on her face never fades away. Taehyung figures out that she likes this, and that’s making him angrier. He bluntly pushes her away, “Get the fuck out.”

Crissy says nothing more and gives him an over-exaggerated wave. She opens the door behind her and walks out, slamming the door shut.

Taehyung calmed himself down, running a hand through his hair. “That bitch,” he mumbled, turning towards you who was already looking at him with wide and frightened eyes. Taehyung forces a small smile and walks over to you. His heart clenches when he sees your sad frown, and he quickly walks over to where you were sitting. He sits beside your body, pulling you close to him as he nuzzles his face on the crook of your neck.

“What was that about?” you murmured quietly, turning to face him. He examines your face for a moment, seeing the sadness in your eyes. Taehyung almost felt guilty that you had to see that, but he wanted to be as honest with you as possible. He lifts his right hand and gently cups your cheek, soothing your skin with his thumb. He grins lovingly at you and presses a kiss on your lips. It was long and tender, and you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as he did so.

“You know who she is, right? You’ve seen her a couple of times.”

You nod, “Mhmm.”

The first time you’ve seen Taehyung was when he was with her in the café. You boldly remember how he spanked her ass at that time, and you want to throw up from the thought. Taehyung seems to know what you were thinking when you lower your head down. He places a finger below your chin and makes you look back up at him. “I already cut our relationship at that time. We weren’t ‘together’, or whatever you call it.” He sighs, forcing himself to continue, “She just wanted to come back to me. She was obsessed and she can’t seem to move on.”

“You remember when I told you how she revealed our relationship to my employees?” You nod your head, listening carefully, “Well, that wasn’t the only reason why I cut it off with her.”

You cocked your head to the side, “It wasn’t?”

He sighs, “No. You know how I am, angel. You know that as my submissive, you’re mine and mine only,” Taehyung moves back to give you some space as he continues, “She apparently had a boyfriend while we were together. She kept it a secret and she lied. Later on, I found out that she was further sleeping with this thirty-year-old man.” You gasped at his sentence, not believing that that Crissy would do such things.

“By sleeping, you mean…”

“She had sex with him, angel,” he forced a little sympathetic smile. You frowned, upset, and furious that she would have the audacity to do that. “Obviously that didn’t settle well with me. I got so fucking angry. I was so hurt too.”

You snuggled closer to him, pressing your body on his as you hugged him. Taehyung chuckled from your actions and pulled you closer, giving a kiss on top of your head. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve it.”

He pulls your face close to his, his hands on each side of your face. “I want you to know that I don’t just do this for the sake of sex and pleasure, Y/n. Don’t think that I do. I want to help people, I want to provide them assistance for the things they can’t get on their own. I hope you understand that.”

You nodded instantly, “I know that, Taehyung. I know you’re not a bad guy, and I thank you for taking care of me.”

Taehyung looks at you sincerely, his eyes never wavered. He spoke in his strict and commanding tone, “I hope I can trust you as well, Y/n. Please, always be honest with me. Tell me whatever that’s going through your head and let me know. Whatever’s happening in your life or if you have some complaints or any second-thoughts, please don’t be afraid to tell me. I want to protect you and take care of you as much as I could. I don’t want you to be like her—”

“I’ll never be like her. Ever.” You stated truthfully. You weren’t a fan of lying to hurt people’s feelings. Especially with Taehyung – not with all the things he’s gone through. Taehyung nods, “Good.”

Taehyung was leaning forward to kiss you but he was interrupted when the doorbell rang, and you couldn’t help but anticipate that it was the pizza. All you wanted was pizza, not drama.

“I’ll get it,” he speaks as he stands up and walks over to the door. You clap your hands in excitement when he brings back a large box of pizza from Domino’s. “Here you go,” he places it on top of the coffee table, handing you a large cup of iced tea as he immediately sipped on his own. “I’m so fucking hungry,”

You laughed at his statement, agreeing, “When I went down from your room and I saw you talking to someone, I had a thought in the back of my mind that it was the pizza guy.”

Taehyung chuckles, pressing a wet kiss on your lips from the iced tea, “Domino’s delivery isn’t that fast in our place, baby girl.”

~

It’s now been two weeks since you first met Taehyung. Thankfully, he lets you focus on your studies and disregarded the obvious lust for you from time to time. It’s been a while since he last touched you, and he was aching to do it again, but the two of you were so busy with your own places of work.

Taehyung would often space out in the middle of his board meetings as he fantasizes about you. His eyebrows would furrow as he would think about undressing you, removing your such conservative clothes, bending you over his desk, and exposing your bare ass to him. He was definitely an ass type of guy, and he would love to spank your soft and cute flesh until it was red with his handprint. He’s already imagining it – how you would struggle to sit down from the pain that all the spanking, reminding you who you belong to.

“Mr. Kim,” one of his employees said, trying to get his attention. Taehyung looks up and notices everyone looking at him. 

He smirks as he plays with his bottom lip, “I’m sorry, you were saying?” He would feel his dress pants getting tighter and more uncomfortable as the time passes by. He tried his best to look like he was listening to whatever shit they were talking about (that he already heard hundreds of times), but all he could ever think of was you. Taehyung takes a deep sigh as he readjusted himself. 

‘Oh, Y/n. Wait until I see you.’

~

“I really don’t understand why you need to bring me to your workplace, Taehyung.” You meekly said as you pulled down your denim shorts that were riding up your thighs as you walked. Taehyung had requested to invite you to his company building for moral support, which you thought was ridiculous. He chuckles as he wraps a protective arm around your waist, walking through the main lobby. You looked around you and noticed that several people were giving you looks, glares, as for why you were that close with their boss.

“People are looking—” you said as you tried to remove his arm, but he was stronger and didn’t let you.

“Let them see.”

The heels of his shoes made little clicking noises as the two of you made your way to the elevator. You insisted to pull away with a stronger force but he made a loud ‘tsk’ sound, “Uh-uh, baby doll. Remember what will happen if you disobey me.” He leans down and says right above your ear, making you shiver. You finally back down, letting him grip your waist a little stronger. As you approached the elevator, you thanked god that there was no one inside. Taehyung immediately pressed the close button so that no one could come inside and invade both of your privacy. Your eyes immediately expand when you saw him press the twentieth floor. 

“You, that’s so…your office is on the twentieth floor?” You said in disbelief. There’s no way that his office was that high up. He nods with a sly smirk, “Mhmm, we’re gonna be here for a long time.”

Shit.

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit insecure when you noticed that the doors were reflective, and you can see both of your reflections. You scoffed at your outfit choice; black denim shorts with a white button-up tucked in on the front, paired with a white two-inched blockheels sandals and your hair in a top bun. Taehyung, on the other hand, looked stunning as usual. He wore a gray suit with a white dress shirt underneath and his black oxford shoes, his black hair neatly parted in the middle. The sight in front of you made you blush – the way how he had his arms around your waist as he pulled your close, indicating that you were his. His property.

Taehyung noticed how you stared profoundly at his appearance in the mirror, poking his tongue inside his cheek when he sees you blushing. His hand teasingly strokes your body up and down gently, the feeling of his big hand against your figure made you shudder. You look at him through the mirror and you immediately land on his eyes that were already fixated on yours.

“You okay there, angel?” he asks with a smirk, knowing exactly what he does to you. You nod at him, forcing out a smile. “Yep.”

“I really like what you’re wearing, Y/n. You look so beautiful.”

You chuckle as you lower your head for a second, “You say that all the time.”

Taehyung suddenly pushes your body against a corner, his body completely towering over you. He traps you with his arms as he leaned his head down to your level, close to your ears as he whispers, “And all the time I mean in, Y/n. I’m so lucky that I’ve got to have you, baby. So lucky that I get to meet such a beautiful and amazing girl. Only for me,” he growled, his deep voice electrifying your skin. He actually spoke with such sincerity that you believed him. You always did. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when he said those words to you.

You felt his hand crawl up your body, up to your cheek as he stroked your soft skin, “Mine to touch,” He swiftly gives you a chaste kiss on the lips, a shade of red forming your cheeks from his sudden action, “Mine to kiss,” And in a quick motion, his hand flies down to your crotch, pressing against it causing you to gasp, “Mine to fuck,” he muttered in a deep and raspy voice. You couldn’t help but release a little a whimper from his little unexpected act. “I swear to god, Y/n, if there were no cameras in here I would’ve fucked that tight little pussy of yours with my fingers.”

Your eyes enlarge in shock when he says those words, both from excitement and fear, “There’s…there’s cameras? What if someone—”

“Don’t worry, angel. This footage will only be seen by one of my good old pals that I trust a lot, it’s nothing to be worried about,” he smiled down at you. “And besides, wouldn’t it be fun to give him a little show, hmm? Let him see how pretty my angel looks when she’s all fucked out, huh?”

You gulp, his eyes suddenly getting darker and you know what that means. “I-I…”

Suddenly, the door opens on the seventeenth floor and the two of you instantly separates. You quickly fix your clothes as you saw a woman entering, giving you a weird look before greeting Taehyung, “Mr. Kim.” Taehyung nods his head once, “Ms. Gayle. Have you heard from their head chief yet?” He asks with a strict tone, and you quickly remembered that he owns this place – quite literally. This was his building. It quickly daunted you that he was in such a high position of power, and he can literally do anything he wants. The feeling made you feel small because you were really a nobody.

“Yes, Mr. Kim. You’re set to meet with him very soon. They’re on the road.”

Taehyung smiles at her, “Good.” He looked at the reflective glass in front of him and fixed his suit jacket, glancing towards you for a split second. You were a bit over two feet away from him, your hands behind your back as you waited diligently. He smirked, loving how adorable you are.

“Let him know to meet me at my office.”

The door opens on the nineteenth floor, and the woman leaves with a goodbye. Taehyung takes the chance to pull you back close to him, “You’re very cute,” he whispers in your ear. You roll your eyes playfully as a scoff escape your lips, “Thanks for letting me know.”

Both of you finally exit the elevator and he leads you to his office. Once you step in, you couldn’t comprehend how extremely polished and expensive it looked. The color scheme was exactly like his house, whites, grays, and blacks. You noticed that there were some gold accents here and there and a lot of paintings. “It looks like your house.”

He snorts behind you, “It is technically my house.”

“You’re gonna hate what my apartment looks like,” you stated as you walked over to a black shelf that holds many trophies and certificates, inspecting them. Taehyung tilts his head to the side slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he made his way to you, standing behind you. “You think? What does it look like?”

You turn around to face him with a sly grin on your face, “First of all my place is way more colorful than yours. I have a nude pink room plus I have a yellow fridge.”

“Are you serious?” he laughs, his eyes turning to slight crescents. “Hey! Don’t laugh at that!” you giggled and stepped away from him, “my uncle bought it for me as a housewarming present.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and the sound echoes around the room. “I’ll get it!” you spoke as you rushed toward the door without rethinking. 

Taehyung tries to stop you, “Y/n—!”

Your mouth slightly parts when you were faced with a tall and well-built man who was wearing a clean, black suit. He, too, was a little bit shocked to see you open the door, for he didn’t know who you were. “O-oh, sorry.” 

The man in front of you gives you a smile, and you couldn’t avoid peering at his slight dimples as he did so. “No, no, it’s alright.”

You abruptly hear Taehyung cough behind you, signaling that he was still in their presence. You turn around and saw him look at you with somber eyes, a single eyebrow lifted up. You instantly step away from the man and let them have some space.

Taehyung walks over to the man and gives him an award-winning grin, “Jungkook.”

“Mr. Kim, long time no see,” they both went in for a handshake then followed by a hug with the other hand – you didn’t know what’s it called but men always did it. Taehyung chuckles at him, “You know you can call me by my first name.”

“I know, but I wanted to show a good impression with this lovely lady you have right here,” Jungkook suddenly turns to your direction, a smirk playing on his face. Taehyung felt a fire in his stomach when he heard him say that, but he had his control. You struggled to find the right words but Taehyung thankfully saves you. “Jungkook, this is Y/n.” 

Jungkook gives you a polite smile, “Nice to meet you, Y/n.” Were you supposed to give him a handshake as well? You turn to look at Taehyung with a slight panic in your eyes. He was clenching his jaw as he looked at you intently.

Was that supposed to be a no?

You gave Jungkook an awkward smile back and a simple ‘hi’, making him smirk and attend his attention back to Taehyung.

Little did you know that Taehyung was clenching his jaw as he observed your every move. He knew what was going through your mind, and he saw how you kept playing with your fingers as a sign of nervousness. He already knows all of your little mannerisms that you don’t even notice doing.

Jungkook made his way to sit on a chair across from Taehyung’s. He releases a little moan once he got to sit down, “God, Taehyung. Why do you need to have your office on the twentieth floor.”

Taehyung didn’t say a word to Jungkook but he quickly made his way over to you and muttered something in your ear, “Behave.”

Your eyes widen for a split second but you nodded instantly. He suddenly grabs your wrist and drags you back to his table, not knowing what he’s about to do with you. You furrow your eyebrows when he has sat on his chair and pats his lap. Unbelievable.

Jungkook knows what was going on. He smirks in his seat as he looks at your confused state, his elbow resting on the table as he played with his bottom lip.

He was a fellow CEO of his own architectural business, JJK Architecture and Design, and was actually Taehyung’s colleague. They helped each other in achieving their dreams, and luck was completely on their side. There was never a competition between both of them, and frankly enough, today they needed to talk about a partnership for a project together.

But you were flustered as fuck. You’re not going to sit on his lap in front of another superior! Taehyung’s eyes told another story, though. He was testing the waters, finding out if you’re going to obey him. The thought was just so ridiculous for you, but you really didn’t want to disappoint him. What will Jungkook think? The idea wasn’t professional at all.

“It’s okay, Y/n. Don’t be uncomfortable.” Jungkook reassured you, smirking at Taehyung, “It’s not new to me.”

Oh.

You tried your best not to overthink his words. Taehyung abruptly pulled you down and forced you to sit across his lap, your legs dangling on the side of his right thigh. Taehyung laughed quietly as he heard you hitch your breath up, his left hand caressing your back to calm you down. “It’s okay, angel.” You couldn’t believe how Taehyung was so comfortable around Jungkook like he wasn’t even there.

“Anyway, back to business,” Taehyung spoke, his demeanor suddenly changing.

“Your girl?” Jungkook abruptly asked as he nods his head towards you, making you gulp.

“Yes, she’s very special.”

The two of them were like brothers. Jungkook was not that different to him, he also had a lot of flings with women but without all that ‘dom and sub contract’ thing and without mentions of money getting involved. It was all sort of like one night stands. Jungkook doesn’t know that Taehyung does this whole ‘sugar-daddy’ thing though, Taehyung thought he’d just keep that to himself.

The whole time you sat idly on Taehyung’s lap was the most unusual thing that had happened to you this week. You didn’t understand a single word they said, and you found yourself constantly shifting on his lap. There were times that you forced yourself not to move when you figured out their conversation was getting more serious, and you didn’t want to be a distraction. However, there were also moments where it was getting a little bit awkward, and you found yourself readjusting your way of sitting on his lap. Taehyung, on the other hand, couldn’t focus half of the time from the way your thighs were brushing against his crotch. He tried his best to focus on their important meeting but you just keep moving. His hand would squeeze your thigh, giving you a warning. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he mutters in your ear with a raspy voice. 

The time has gone by and they were finally wrapping everything up after many note-taking and keyboard clicks later. “Okay, we’re done,” Taehyung smiles at Jungkook, “I hope t-th – shit.” He mutters the last part in particular when he feels you shift around him for the nth time, and he felt his cock growing harder underneath his pants. You looked at him with a confused and concerned expression, “Are you okay?” you whispered in his ear, but he ignored you as he clenched his jaw.

“I hope this project will be a success, Jeon. Looking forward to our next meeting, hopefully with some of your workforces and operatives as well.”

“Likewise.”

Taehyung stands up from his seat and you finally hop back down on the floor. Once he escorted Jungkook to the door, he bids his farewell. “Y/n,” he calls your name out, whipping your head at him with your brows raised up, “Yes?”

He chuckles, a bunny-like smile forming his lips, “I’ll see you soon.”

Taehyung pushes him outside his office urgently, not even letting you reply. When the door was shut, he locked it in an instant and made big strides over to your figure.

He firmly grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“What?” You replied in such bewilderment that almost had you in guilt. Did you do something that made him upset?

“Didn’t I tell you not to move? Huh?” Oh, that. Your mind fumbled with words to reply with but nothing came out. Taehyung scoffs, looking away for a moment in disbelief. “You didn’t follow my words, sweetheart,” he growls lowly, and the tone of his voice turned you on, “look what you did to me.” He suddenly grabs your hand and runs your palm down his clothed stomach, teasingly slow until it reached his hardened dick. You gasp at the feeling, suddenly remembering how big it was. Taehyung bites his lip as he slightly grinds his cock on your palm, humping your small hand. You whined from the dirty scene in front of you, your mind telling you to pull your hand away but your body refused to.

“You made me so goddamn hard, angel. I couldn’t even focus.” He roughly pulls you towards his desk and forces your body to bend over the furniture, a yelp escaping your lips from his sudden roughness. Taehyung groans when he sees you bend over for him, his dirty fantasies of you finally coming to life. Your shorts rose up a bit and it exposed more of your skin, and he couldn’t help but lay his hands on your butt. He massaged the soft and plump skin, making you mewl. No one has ever touched you like this before, and his big hands touching you like that made you horny.

Taehyung leans himself down behind you and you can feel his bulge against your core. His mouth nibbled on your ear, causing a quiet moan to escape your lips. “You disobeyed me, baby girl. Did you purposely do that to get punished, hmm?” His monotone voice sent goosebumps to erupt from your skin as you instinctively jerked your body back, trying to feel more of him. Taehyung grunts as he smacks your right butt cheek hard. You shrieked from the feeling, closing your eyes from the combination of pain and pleasure.

“Are you trying to test me, baby?” he chuckles, “do that one more time and I’m not going to hold myself back on you. What we did back in my bedroom was like nothing for me. You know I can fuck you much harder and rougher than that.”

Your little moan was cut off when he lands another smack on your clothed ass, “Now answer me, did you do that on purpose?”

“N-no. I was just trying to readjust myself,” another loud slap came in contact with your ass, even sharper than the previous ones. Your face was shaded in red and you knew your ass would be too. “Remind yourself who you’re talking to.”

“I’m sorry, s-sir.”

Taehyung steps back for a moment, feeling content at your state in front of him right now – his favorite girl bend over for him. His hands fly to the waistbands of your shorts, pulling them down. He immediately growls when he sees your wetness soaking through your grey panties, and your buttcheeks already painted in red. He caresses your behind gently, taking his time to feel your nice and full ass. He was biting his lip and his eyes were filled with lust. Even if you were bent over in front of him, he still thought that you looked so angelic. You still had that touch of innocence in every lewd thing that you do. You still exuded your pureness, and Taehyung would never think that he’d get turned on from the thought of that.

“You didn’t follow my simple rule, angel. And what was that rule?” he teased you by applying the slightest bit of pressure on your wet pussy, making you close your eyes tightly and whine.

“That I shouldn’t move, sir.” You spoke quietly, hiding your face on your forearms.

“That’s right. Thought you’d be a good girl and obey that easy command.” He spanks your ass again, and your eyes fly open from the stinging sensation it brought. “S-shit,” you whimpered, your pussy clenching around nothing. Taehyung loved how your body would slightly jerk forward, and how you would desperately try to find a place to grab onto. He has an idea and grabs your wrists in one hand and presses them on your lower back, resting your cheek on the hard table.

“You’re gonna take whatever I give you like the good little girl I know you are, understood, baby doll?” his raspy voice spoke and you tried to nod, “Y-yes, sir.” You were nervous, not going to lie. You didn’t know how long he would do it for, and you were so nervous that someone could hear outside the office. But you can feel how you were dripping wet underneath your panties, and it hasn’t even properly started yet.

“Good.”

Taehyung lifts up his hand and swiftly lands it on your ass, the loud sound resonating throughout the room. You bite your lip as you tried to prevent your loud moans from spilling out. You heard him scoff behind you, “Don’t fucking hide those moans, angel. You know how much it turns me on to hear you like that,” his hand lands another sharp slap, finally freeing your moans as you let go. Tears were already forming your eyes as you tugged on your arms, “S-sir, please,”

“Please, s-sir—aahh!” this particular spank was even harder and intense from the previous ones, and you can hear him groan behind you. Was he gaining pleasure from spanking you? Your eyes let the tears fall down as you sobbed. He didn’t give you any time to get yourself together and spanked your ass once more. “Does my little girl liked to be spanked, hmm? Makes you so wet and horny, huh?”

A moan escaped your lips from his dirty talk, feeling how he gave your hind a tight squeeze. “Yes, I d-do, sir,” you spoke breathily, sniffling.

“Look at that dripping wet cunt, babe. God, does your pussy belong to me, baby?” 

��Yes, yes, sir. I’m yours and yours only,” you mewled. It hurts, obviously, but there was a strange sensation of pleasure that you weren’t expecting. Taehyung hums in satisfaction. “I love your ass, angel. So fucking pretty. I’m saying this to you now, Y/n, you won’t be able to sit down after this.”

Taehyung finally lands his last spank, making your body jolt forward and shake from the immense feeling. “Aah, fuck! S-sir, please…”

He smirks down at you as he strokes your ass gently, feeling such satisfaction as he takes a good look at your red and bruised ass. He pulls your shorts back up and lifts you back upright. You turn to look at him with such confusion written on your face, “Y-you aren’t…you aren’t gonna—” you look down on his rock hard cock beneath his pants, wondering if he’s going to fuck you or not.

He chuckles at your words, fixing the stray hairs away from your face as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You gulp when you felt his length pressing against your lower abdomen. His mouth was brushing against yours, teasing you, “This is your punishment, angel. You’re gonna be left in those wet soaking panties of yours until you get home and you’re not gonna touch yourself, understood?” He spoke with such sternness and a domineering attitude and you couldn’t help but obey instantly.

You weren’t planning to touch yourself anyway.

You only wanted him to do that to you.

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter Five

Chapter Summary: Patton and Janus have a good laugh about Remus and Logan's situation, while being very sappy.

Here’s some good, sweet mociet and apparently a bit of plot with Patton I hadn't even intended on including. Remus and Logan are very stupid with love but it’s all good. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated. Have a good day/night! 

Word Count: 2,310

ao3 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

“Remind me why we agreed to this again?” Janus asked, his tone bitter. Patton, ever-the-optimist, took Janus’s hands in his own and squeezed tight.

“Because,” he said, his voice bright and chipper, “Remus and Logan are our friends and they’ve asked for our help.”

“Yes, well,” Janus struggled for a moment to recollect his thoughts much the way he usually did when Patton was holding his hand, “They asked for our help separately, so they can each buy engagement rings for each other.” Patton giggled at the absurdity of the situation they’d been thrust into.

“Exactly.”

“Patton, darling, surely you see the humor in all this?”

“Well, sure I do!” Patton admitted, “It’s a little silly to think about, but it’s also kinda sweet, right?” He asked, letting go of Janus’s hands and grabbing his coffee mug – the one with cats and dogs on it Janus had bought for him some time ago – and took a long sip.

“I suppose,” Janus said dryly, “Even so, it’s more than a little surprising. I never pegged Remus as the settle down-type in, well, any of the time I’ve known him. And I’d never expected such boldness from Logan. Truly, those two continue to baffle me.”

“Maybe it’s a little surprising,” Patton said, sitting down at the kitchen table as Janus sat at the chair across from him, “But they make each other so gosh darn happy. They’re good for each other, Jan.”

“I never said they weren’t,” Janus defended lightly.

“I know you didn’t, sweetie pie. I’m just saying, we need to do this for them. We owe them that much.” Janus groaned softly, displeased with how much impact a well-placed term of endearment had on him.

“You’re right,” he conceded, “Of course you’re right. Even so, I can’t help but think this is a hair-brained scheme that’s destined for disaster.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sour puss,” Patton chided, “Though, if that was what was to happen, would you be surprised?”

“No, I suppose not,” Janus admitted, taking a sip of his coffee before settling into some form of acceptance, “If you’d be so kind, could you remind me of the plan again?”

“If anyone asks, Logan and I are going to lunch together today while Remus is buying his engagement ring for Logan. Late, you and Remus are going to have a chat at our place while Logan buys his engagement ring for Remus.” Janus raised an eyebrow, already feeling an oncoming headache.

“So, you’re telling me neither of us will be seeing either of them today? We’re their cover-story?”

“Exactly,” Patton said, “In case they ask each other where they’ve been, they’ll say they were spending time with us separately and we’ll vouch for them.”

“And I suppose you’re alright with a lie in the name of love, but not when it benefits me?” Janus asked, his voice teasing. Patton swatted him across the table.

“Janny, lying about being sick so you could avoid a lunch date with my parents is a different story entirely!”

“I don’t know about entirely…” he grumbled irritably, but then Patton took his hand from under the table, the warm contact distracting him from his bitterness.

“They like you fine, sweetheart,” he assured in the same way he’d done countless times before, “And even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter because I love you.”

They’d had this conversation before and likely, they’d have it again. Patton’s parents were, to put it lightly, leaning more on the conservative spectrum. When Patton had come out as gay in his late teens their reactions had not been what he’d hoped for. At the time, there had been talk about possible disownment – Patton’s heart still clenched when he thought about it, how desperate he’d been, how desperate he still was sometimes. But with time, they’d come around, at least a little bit more.

If you asked Janus, he’d say that Patton would be better off without them. His parents were holding him back, it seemed so obvious, but it wasn’t Janus’s place to make that decision for his boyfriend, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d be there for him no matter what, even if that meant spending time with Mr. and Mrs. Hart – though that didn’t mean he’d do so without a complaint or two. It was obvious they despised Janus, but if they still made Patton even the least bit happy, then he’d stand by.

“I love you too,” he said, squeezing Patton’s hand.

“You know I don’t like lying if I can help it,” Patton pointed out.

Janus knew that well. It wasn’t as though Janus was advising he lie about absolutely everything, however, there were moments where a lie or two was necessary. Janus blamed a lot of Patton’s black-and-white thinking on his upbringing – though it took very little for him to want to push the blame onto Patton’s folks – he’d been able to break out of it a lot more recently. Janus was proud of how much of the strict way of thinking his boyfriend was questioning, but that didn’t negate from the fact that Patton still despised lying for the most part.

“I know you don’t, Angel.”

“But this is for a good cause,” he insisted, “Those boys love each other so much and if this is how they’re going about things, then we should help.”

“Such a good heart,” Janus said sweetly, looking at his boyfriend with utter admiration, that is to say, how he looked at him most of the time, “What’s a sweetheart like you doing with a guy like me, hm?”

“Don’t talk like that, Jan,” Patton said in a tone that reminded Janus heavily of a time where his boyfriend had threatened to “physically fight” Virgil when he said something negative about himself, “You’re wonderful.”

It was strange looking back on a time when he and Patton had not gotten along very much at all. It hadn’t helped that Janus and Virgil had before their being together been in a relationship that had faced a rather tempestuous end. Janus had a reputation of lying, one that at the time was not entirely untrue, so Patton had wearily kept his distance.

But eventually, when things were smoothed over with Virgil for the most part and he found himself a comfortable spot in the friend group, Patton’s walls had begun to come down. With time, Janus found feelings emerging, feelings he didn’t comprehend could be reciprocated, but to his utter surprise, they were.

Just as Janus had taught Patton that lying wasn’t altogether sinful, Patton had stopped Janus from fibbing as frequently. They helped each other, they made each other better, and neither man could be happier.

Being in such a loving long-term relationship with him, Janus still found himself giving into self-doubt from time to time. He by no means believed his boyfriend to be perfect; that would be an incredibly unhealthy outlook on a partner. However, Janus found the good in Patton far easier than he did in himself. He didn’t think of himself as a bad man, per say, he was always trying to be better, always doing what he could to be a person Patton would be proud to call his, but he had his moments where he needed a gentle reminder of his worth, just as Patton needed the same from him from time to time. And they were always there to give that to each other.

“Patton, darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you promise you’ll be able to lie, should the need arise?” Patton worried his bottom lip, the look in his eyes indicating that no, he most likely would not be able to do so, at least not with any sort of guarantee.

“…yes?” A sigh rolled past Janus’s lips. The hesitance didn’t do wonders for his case, that was for sure.

“Patton, if you’ve committed to this you’ll have to do it if they ask about the other’s warbots.”

“I can do it! I – I promise,” Patton said with a touch too much enthusiasm for it to sound confident. Janus quirked an eyebrow. “Or… at least I’ll try my hardest,” he said, softer. Janus smiled.

“That’s all I can ask for, my love,” he said, praying Patton wouldn’t be asked any tough questions by their friends.

While he was no longer as averse to lying as he had been in the best, that didn’t negate the fact that Patton was absolutely terrible at it. When Patton had first brought up the plan that he’d be lying on Logan’s account he’d been worried; and then Remus had called, asking Janus to lie for him as well because of course, they were buying their engagement rings on the same day! Janus was sure he was going to have a brain aneurism if it turned out they were buying from the same jewelry store and ran into each other, but he really wouldn’t put it past those two. Even so, Patton had insisted that he could handle it and that, moreover, he’d made a commitment to a friend and he was sticking to it.

The couple spent the rest of the morning speaking of the fact that soon their friends would be engaged. It was more than a little to process, considering Logan’s reputation for intelligence as well as the fact that Janus knew damn well Remus was no idiot. Sure, he said stupid things quite often and acted impulsively, but to know they were both individuals who for the most part were rational, smart adults made the predicament all the more amusing. Sometimes it seemed like the pair had only one brain cell shared between them, and even then, it was reserved mostly for love and love alone.

Janus couldn’t say he was entirely shocked by the state of his friends, considering how he’d endeared himself to Patton and fallen for each and every one of his charms. There had been and would continue to be many a moment in which Janus was helpless to Patton making stupid puns or swiping a dollop of cookie dough over his nose, or him stealing all of the covers in the night, leaving Janus clinging to him for warmth as if he wouldn’t be doing the very same thing either way. Logan and Remus had gone soft for each other, but who was he to judge? After all, he’d lost his edge the moment he caught Patton’s eye.

=+=

Remus nearly shrieked in surprise when he came home to find that Logan had already gotten there before him. he’d anticipated having some time to himself to pace the jitters out, peak at the ring a few dozen more times, and memorize his speech a bit more, but it seemed that wasn’t in the cards.

“Hello, dear,” Logan had greeted from his spot at the table, his laptop open. Remus could only assume he was grading online work from his students. “How was your visit with Janus?”

For a moment Remus almost asked, stupid as ever,  “What visit with Janus?” Before his sanity caught up with him.

“It was good,” he said, hoping Logan wouldn’t press any further. He removed his shoes, walking up to Logan, who’d since shut his laptop. Remus’s arms wrapped loosely around Logan’s neck as he pressed a kiss to his neck, “How was your lunch with Patton?” He noticed if only for a moment, Logan tense under his touch.

“It was satisfactory,” he said, “though the chicken in my salad was a bit dry.” Something about the sentence seemed off, but Remus couldn’t quite place it and leaving it be seemed the best thing to do, especially in his wired headspace.

“How positively dreadful,” he said, sarcasm heavy, “however will you go on?”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll manage, somehow,” Logan met his sarcastic tone, smiling softly as he stood to embrace Remus fully, slotting their mouths together in a kiss. “I love you,” he said against Remus's lips, more passion than usual swelling in his voice, “I love you dearly. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of saying it.”

“I love you too, and I’ll never tire of hearing it,” Remus replied after he’d drug Logan into another kiss, heated and prolonged, “you fucking sap.” Logan laughed lightly.

“No more than you are, dear.”

“Whatcha wanna do for dinner tonight, Dragonfly?” Remus asked, trying to tame the pent-up energy that rattled in his skull. He had a ring in his pocket right at that moment! He was going to propose to Logan in a few days! It was all too much to process, not in a bad way, but in a, hey my heart might explode with how much love it’s full of kind of way. The thought of a heart bursting open in someone’s chest came to mind; Remus would have to write that down.

“If I’m honest, I’m feeling exceptionally lazy,” Logan admitted. A smile spread over Remus’s face.

“Takeout?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“What’re you in the mood for, Dragonfly?”

“Whatever you’d like, love. You choose.” Oh thank god, this would give Remus a moment or two to get his thoughts in order.

“Pizza it is. Let me go call the place,” he said, quickly slinking into their bedroom. The moment the door was shut Remus was having to press a hand over his mouth to stop himself from squealing out of utter excitement. He slipped the ring box from his hoodie pocket, popping it open and admiring the stone. He’d searched the internet tirelessly for just the right ring, and he was certain he’d found it.

“I’m gonna marry the fuck out of you, Dragonfly,” he whispered aloud, sliding the box in the space under the nightstand, somewhere Logan would never find it and dialing the pizza place's number.

Little did Remus know, there was a second ring box hidden in the closet that had been put there mere minutes prior.

=+=

[7mpb]

BABY STOMACH PAIN

https://7mejoresparabebes.com/baby-stomach-pain/

7 mejores para bebés post a new article about BABY STOMACH PAIN.

Disorder of the stomach and bowels is one of the most fruitful sources of the diseases of infancy. Only prevent their derangement, and, all things being equal, the infant will be healthy and flourish, and need not the aid of physic or physicians.

There are many causes which may give rise to these affections; many of them appertain to the mother’s system, some to that of the infant.

All are capable, to a great extent, of being prevented or remedied. It is, therefore, most important that a mother should not be ignorant or misinformed upon this subject.

It is the prevention of these affections, however, that will be principally dwelt upon here; for let  the mother ever bear in mind, and act upon the principle, that the  prevention of disease alone belongs to her; the cure to the physician.

For the sake of clearness and reference, these disorders will be spoken of as they occur:  

To the infant at the breast

The infant’s stomach and bowels may become deranged from the breast-milk becoming unwholesome. This may arise from the parent getting out of health, a circumstance which will be so manifest to herself, and to those more immediately interested in her welfare, that it is only necessary just to allude to it here.

Suffice it to say, that there are many causes of a general kind to which it may owe its origin; but that the most frequent is undue lactation, and the effects both upon mother and child fully dwelt upon.

Anxiety of mind in the mother will cause her milk to be unhealthy in its character, and deficient in quantity, giving rise to flatulence, griping, and sometimes even convulsions in the infant.

A fit of passion in the nurse will frequently be followed by a fit of bowel complain in the child. These causes of course are temporary, and when removed the milk becomes a healthy and sufficient for the child as before.

Sudden and great mental disturbance, however, will occasionally drive away the milk altogether, and in a few hours.

A Mrs. S., aet. 29, a fine healthy woman, of a blonde complexion, was confined of a boy.  She had a good time, and a plentiful supply of milk for the child, which she continued to suckle till the following January, a period of three months, when her milk suddenly disappeared.

This circumstance puzzled the medical attendant, for he could not trace it to any physical ailment; but the milk never returned, and a wet-nurse became necessary. In the following spring the husband of this lady failed, an adversity which had been impending since the date when the breast-milk disappeared, upon which day the deranged state of the husband’s affairs was made known to the wife, a fact which at once explained the mysterious disappearance of the milk.

Unwholesome articles of diet will affect the mother’s milk, and derange the infant’s bowels.

Once, I was called to see an infant at the breast with diarrhoea. The remedial measures had but little effect so long as the infant was allowed the breast-milk; but this being discontinued, and arrow-root made with water only allowed, the complaint was quickly put a stop to.

Believing that the mother’s milk was impaired from some accidental cause which might now be passed, the infant was again allowed the breast. In less than four-and-twenty hours, however, the diarrhoea returned. The mother being a very healthy woman, it was suspected that some unwholesome article in her diet might be the cause.

The regimen was accordingly carefully inquired into, when it appeared that porter from a neighbouring publican’s had been substituted for their own for some little time past. This proved to be bad, throwing down, when left to stand a few hours, a considerable sediment; it was discontinued; good sound ale taken instead; the infant again put to the breast, upon the milk of which it flourished, and never had another attack.

In the same way aperient medicine, taken by the mother, will act on the child’s bowels, through the effect which it produces upon her milk.

This, however, is not the case with all kinds of purgative medicine, nor does the same purgative produce a like effect upon all children.

It is well, therefore, for a parent to notice what aperient acts thus through her system upon that of her child, and what does not, and when an aperient becomes necessary for herself, unless she desire that the infant’s bowels be moved, to avoid the latter; if otherwise, she may take the former with good effect.

Again; the return of the monthly periods whilst the mother is a nurse always affects the properties of the milk, more or less, deranging the stomach and bowels of the infant.

It will thus frequently happen, that a few days before the mother is going to be unwell, the infant will become fretful and uneasy; its stomach will throw up the milk, and its motions will be frequent, watery, and greenish.

And then, when the period is fully over, the milk will cease to purge. It is principally in the early months, however, that the infant seems to be affected by this circumstance; for it will be generally found that although the milk is certainly impaired by it, being less abundant and nutritious, still, after the third or fourth month it ceases to affect the infant.

Is then a mother, because her monthly periods return after her delivery, to give up nursing? Certainly not, unless the infant’s health is seriously affected by it; for she will generally find that, as the periods come round, by keeping the infant pretty much from the breast, during its continuance, and feeding him upon artificial food, she will prevent disorder of the child’s health, and be able in the intervals to nurse her infant with advantage.

It must be added, however, that a wet- nurse is to be resorted to rather than any risk incurred of injuring the child’s health; and that, in every case, partial feeding will be necessary at a much earlier period than when a mother is not thus affected.

The milk may also be rendered less nutritive, and diminished in quantity, by the mother again becoming pregnant. In this case, however, the parent’s health will chiefly suffer, if she persevere in nursing; this, however, will again act prejudicially to the child.

It will be wise, therefore, if pregnancy should occur, and the milk disagree with the infant, to resign the duties of a nurse, and to put the child upon a suitable artificial diet.

The infant that is constantly at the breast will always be suffering, more or less, from flatulence, griping, looseness of the bowels, and vomiting. This is caused by a sufficient interval not being allowed between the meals for digestion.

The milk, therefore, passes on from the stomach into the bowels undigested, and the effects just alluded to follow. Time must not only be given for the proper digestion of the milk, but the stomach itself must be allowed a season of repose. This evil, then, must be avoided most carefully by the mother strictly adhering to those rules for nursing.

The bowels of the infant at the breast, as well as after it is weaned, are generally affected by teething. And it is fortunate that this is the case, for it prevents more serious affections.

Indeed, the diarrhoea that occurs during dentition, except it be violent, must not be subdued; if, however, this is the case, attention must be paid to it. It will generally be found to be accompanied by a swollen gum; the freely lancing of which will sometimes alone put a stop to the looseness: further medical aid may, however, be necessary.

At the period of weaning

There is great susceptibility to derangements of the stomach and bowels of the child at the period when weaning ordinarily takes place, so that great care and judgment must be exercised in effecting this object.

Usually, however, the bowels are deranged during this process from one of these causes; from weaning too early, from effecting it too suddenly and abruptly, or from over-feeding and the use of improper and unsuitable food.

There is another cause which also may give rise to diarrhoea at this time, independently of weaning, viz. the irritation of difficult teething.

The substitution of artificial food for the breast-milk of the mother, at a period when the digestive organs of the infant are too delicate for this change, is a frequent source of the affections now under consideration.

The attempt to wean a delicate child, for instance, when only six months old, will inevitably be followed by disorder of the stomach and bowels. Unless, therefore, a mother is obliged to resort to this measure, from becoming pregnant, or any other unavoidable cause, if she consult the welfare of her child, she will not give up nursing at this early period.

Depriving the child at once of the breast, and substituting artificial food, however proper under due regulations such food may be, will invariably cause bowel complaints. Certain rules and regulations must be adopted to effect weaning safely, the details of which are given elsewhere.

If too large a quantity of food is given at each meal, or the meals are too frequently repeated, in both instances the stomach will become oppressed, wearied, and deranged; part of the food, perhaps, thrown up by vomiting, whilst the remainder, not having undergone the digestive process, will pass on into the bowels, irritate its delicate lining membrane, and produce flatulence, with griping, purging, and perhaps convulsions.

Then, again, improper and unsuitable food will be followed by precisely the same effects; and unless a judicious alteration be quickly made, remedies will not only have no influence over the disease, but the cause being continued, the disease will become most seriously aggravated.

It is, therefore, of the first importance to the well-doing of the child, that at this period, when the mother is about to substitute an artificial food for that of her own breast, she should first ascertain what kind of food suits the child best, and then the precise quantity which nature demands.

Many cases might be cited, where children have never had a prescription written for them, simply because, these points having been attended to, their diet has been managed with judgment and care; whilst, on the other hand, others might be referred to, whose life has been hazarded, and all but lost, simply from injudicious dietetic management.

Over-feeding, and improper articles of food, are more frequently productive, in their result, of anxious hours and distressing scenes to the parent, and of danger and loss of life to the child, than almost any other causes.

The irritation caused by difficult teething may give rise to diarrhoea at the period when the infant is weaned, independently of the weaning itself. Such disorder of the bowels, if it manifestly occur from this cause, is a favourable circumstance, and should not be interfered with, unless indeed the attack be severe and aggravated, when medical aid becomes necessary.

Slight diarrhoea then, during weaning, when it is fairly traceable to the cutting of a tooth (the heated and inflamed state of the gum will at once point to this as the source of the derangement), is of no consequence, but it must not be mistaken for disorder arising from other causes. Lancing the gum will at once, then, remove the cause, and generally cure the bowel complaint.

7 mejores para bebés hopes this article about BABY STOMACH PAIN was of your interest.

[gothamcityneedsme]

Batman au

@abysskeeper

Finally.  This is from the 3 sentence prompt meme.  Which I am still doing.  Fucking.  This one is the longest I think.  Almost 4k words.  I’m not looking at this anymore.

———

Trickshot frowned, the light of the computer monitors in front of him casting his features in blue light.  His eyes flickered from screen to screen, but nothing notable was to be found.  Usually that wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but they had already been tipped off that someone was on the move tonight, so it was tense, waiting for the pin to drop.  Just watching and waiting, unable to do anything else.

The sound of the door opening behind him was hardly worth him switching his attention away—he could see the person entering on the security monitors anyways.  But, he did call out a brief greeting, “Hey.”

He could see Jonathan wave at him from a subwindow on the monitor on his upper-left, and Trickshot smirked, amused—he had even waved in the camera’s direction, despite the fact that it was the size of a marble, not visible to most.  But, of course, Jonathan could see it.

“Tavon,” he greeted as he stepped closer to the monitors, “I take it no moves yet?  Never mind—you’re still here.  So obviously not.”

“Mn,” Trickshot nodded.

They stood in silence for a little while, watching.  But it was never long that Jonathan would stay quiet, not while they weren’t on a mission at least, “Sooo.  Have you come up with a name for this place yet?  I feel like we really need a name for this base, or center of operations, or whatever.”

Finally, Trickshot looked away from the monitors, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan, “My garage?”

“Yes,” Jonathan snorted as he propped a hand on his hip, “We can’t just call it that.”

“I don’t see why not.  It’s not like anyone else is ever going to be here.”

“We can’t just say we’re ‘going back to Trickshot’s garage’ at the end of the day.  We should say something that sounds cool.”

“No,” he replied, unimpressed, “Why do we even have to say anything at all?  We don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone.”

“Ugh,” Jonathan let out a long-suffering sigh.  Trickshot smothered a smirk.  “I get tired of your dark broody thing sometimes though.  It feels rude to just disappear on people.  It isn’t uncool to say ‘bye,’ you know.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, don’t pull the fake ‘I’m-considering-it-but-I’m-actually-not’ tone with me, Tav.”  Jonathan was grinning though as he said it, their usual banter making the time go faster.  It was nice to take his own eyes off the monitors for a bit too, he could trust that Jonathan would notice something pop up even faster than he would if he were looking himself, and so he could take a moment to be at ease.

It wasn’t the monitors that finally alerted them though, but rather the ring of the communicator on Jonathan’s belt. Trickshot could see who it was before Jonathan even brought it to his face, the red heart emoji giving it away rather obviously.  Jonathan, predictably, lit up, quickly clicking to accept the call, “Nexus!  Any news?”

Trickshot lacked super-hearing, so he didn’t really have a chance to overhear, but that was quickly remedied as Jonathan tapped the side, activating the holo-interface of his communicator so that Nexus could presumably speak to both of them.  Nexus’s face came into view, looking only mildly irritated, “I have received a call meant for the two of you.  Since your identities are unknown and your communications are more underground than mine, you’ve forced me to become a relay.  I don’t approve.”

“Oh,” Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked far too apologetic for something that was hardly a concern—of course one of the most active heroes on the net was easier to contact, “Sorry about that!  I guess we could open a line or something—”

“No,” both Nexus and Trickshot said at once.

“Stop bullshitting,” Trickshot frowned.

“Fine,” Nexus sighed, continuing as if his complaint hadn’t even been aired, “It was your ex-partner, Trickshot, back in your ‘Crosshair’ days.  I maintain that that was a stupid name, despite how fitting it was for your prior job.”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

Jonathan looked at him in concern.  He wondered if his voice was as tight as it felt.

“No, and I didn’t ask.  I’m not your secretary.  All she gave me was a set of coordinates.”

“Transmit them.  And tell Sequitur that we’re out, it’s up to him to deal with anything that arises.”

“Fine.  But I maintain that I’m not your secretary.”

“Thank you, Nexus!” Jonathan added, quick, just before Nexus hung up.

———-

“I can’t believe you made him hang up on us.”

“You’re still mad about that?”

“Yes!  I’m trying to—”

“Yeah, I’ve seen your contacts list.”

“You can’t talk, you’re gunning for—”

Trickshot brought a finger to his lips and Jonathan immediately grew quiet, his eyes narrowing behind his visor as he turned his focus to their surroundings.

“Five o’clock, 40 meters,” Jonathan whispered, low enough for Trickshot to just barely hear him, “She’s got a cloaking device on.”

But, of course, Jonathan could see through something like that, attuned to even the slight shifts and wavers in the air.

Trickshot glided down to the rooftop, landing with ease, and he turned himself towards where Jonathan had said she was.  “Bolt,” he greeted.

“Don’t pretend to be all cool,” her voice rang out as her form shifted, the cloaking device at her belt being deactivated, “I know you didn’t see me.”

Jonathan landed so that he was slightly between them, but without saying a word.

Lynnick chuckled, “Way to ruin his attempt at mystique, Sentinel.”

“Spotter,” Jonathan corrected coldly.

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” Lynnick hissed, emerald eyes blazing in a way that was both familiar and not.  “I was his spotter.”

“Not anymore.”

Trickshot interrupted, not that he didn’t appreciate what Jonathan was trying to do, but they weren’t here to fight (verbally or physically).  “What do you want with us?”

“You,” Lynnick corrected, turning her gaze to him alone, “I didn’t ask for the other guy.”

“Fine, just me,” Trickshot snapped, narrowing his eyes, “What do you want with me?”

“I’ve heard whispers of something I knew you’d care about, so I’d figure I’d do you a favor—for the last time you got me out of a jam.”

“…When was that?” Jonathan’s eyes flicked to him, sparking with uncomfortable uncertainty—he never liked it when Trickshot kept him out of the loop.

Trickshot shrugged, “Sometimes we keep up connections.  Help each other out.”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed behind his visor, but he said nothing more.  He wouldn’t, not while they were in front of someone else.  Later though, Trickshot definitely hadn’t heard the end of this.

“Stop interrupting, Sentinel,” Bolt hissed, “I want to get this over with as much as you want me gone.  So let me say my piece so I can fuck off.”  Jonathan shrugged, prompting her to continue, flipping her braid over her shoulder, “Great.  Specter is planning another raid—yes, I know you’ve been following them. Every superhero has.  But I know you don’t want her dead, and I don’t either.  She’s a good distraction, and she gets my crew out of jams sometimes.  But, she doesn’t like us contacting her, so I can’t warn her.  And fuck if I’m going to be where the shit is going down.”

“What’s going to happen?” Trickshot asked, masking the spiking worry—it wasn’t surprising that it was getting risky for Specter and the rest of her team—there were a lot of people gunning for them.  This could be…bad.

“They’re going to be stopped, obviously. Attacked.  Police, SWAT, whatever else they got out there, I don’t know. All I know is that there’s gonna be a lot of brass and I’m out. And, sure, Specter is good at getting out of things, but she won’t leave her team behind, and I’m sure more than one of them will be along.”

“How did this information come out? What’s your source?”

“I know a guy embedded with the cops. He heard about it and was nice enough to let me know for a few hundred bucks.  He’s never steered me wrong before, and this isn’t a trap for me or anything so the likelihood of him lying is, I assure you, quite low.”  She still remembered his paranoia.  And, he was sure she could go on for longer to disregard all of his concerns about authenticity.  She knew him. He could trust that much. “Specter’s people must have a leak or something too—you just can’t trust people these days.”

Jonathan opened his mouth, probably to object, but Trickshot quickly interjected, nodding, “I appreciate the information.  Tell us when and where and we’ll handle it.”

Bolt grinned, her eyes glimmering, “Oh, a part of me wants to come along just to see how you handle it.  How you’ll get them out.  Especially since you don’t want them to know you like them, right?  A little…well, it’s a little supervillain of you.”

Jonathan stepped forward, fists clenched, “He’s not—”

She scoffed, “Please.  Don’t delude yourself.”

“I’m not.  I wouldn’t stand here if he was.  I know him better than you do.”

Bolt turned, her footsteps sounding softly off of the rooftop.  She stood near the edge now, looking back at them, shrugging, “Tell yourself whatever you want, Sentinel.  Don’t come crying to me when he leaves you.”

With that, she tapped her belt, activating her camouflage, shimmering invisible, the distortion barely visible to him, until she jumped, disappearing below.  The sound of a grappling hook could be heard firing into the next building, but Trickshot couldn’t discern where she was once distance was established between them.

Jonathan could though, his eyes cold on the horizon.

He couldn’t just let the silence remain though, he had to—to address what she had said, he couldn’t let her turn Jonathan against him.  Trickshot quietly affirmed, “I’m not going to—”

Jonathan cut him off, “You don’t need to validate yourself to me.”  He tore his gaze from Bolt, “I know you.”

He didn’t know how to reply.

Jonathan sighed, fumbling with the pouches on his belt to bring his communicator out, and predictably, another call was coming, a little red heart displayed on the screen.  He clicked to accept it, solemnly scanning the information that was displayed in green over its surface.  No voice or video this time, just the information, presumably the coordinates and time that Bolt was referring to.

Jonathan smirked a bit, swiping the message so that Trickshot could access it on his goggles, “I like how he says he’s tired of being our secretary but then tells us that he’s standardized how he’s sending us coordinates.”

“Of course you like it,” Trickshot quipped, a weak smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “You like everything he does.”

“Mhm,” Jonathan nodded, an ease to his stance now that Bolt was gone.  “So, I assume we’re getting there first.  Before they even break in.”

Trickshot shook his head, already running possibilities in his head, “We’ll just run into the authorities that way. We can’t be seen either—they wouldn’t understand our sympathies.”

Jonathan smirked, “Not when they’re trying to catch her too.”

“You and I both know she’s not what they think.  That there’s way more going on here, we just have to figure out what.”

“Or ask.”

“Or ask,” Trickshot relented.  “Either way, we have to head them off before they even get there.”

Jonathan frowned, “We don’t know where they’re coming from, only where they’ll hit.”

“Well, that’s half the puzzle.  Surely with all the pieces we’ve been picking up about them, it’ll be easy enough to figure out.”

“Maybe for you, but I haven’t reached quite the same understand of them that you have,” Jonathan admitted, a bit sheepishly.  “I’m not sure how much help I can be with so little information.”

“You can be plenty help.  You’re my eyes.  Come on, it’s only a few dozen blocks from here.”

“Why do I work for you again?”

———-

They were split up again, Jonathan on a radio tower a few blocks away, placed in the highest vantage point to take advantage of his heightened senses.  Of course, their communicators still kept them in contact, Jonathan able to whisper so that Trickshot could hear him in his earpiece.  He had told him to focus on the area north of the site—it was the least covered by the covert police and hero forces they could see since it was right by the waterway.

They had, of course, kept themselves from being detected by the other forces, which was easy when you knew them all so well.  Better than Specter and her crew would—although they also knew how to hide.  But, not knowing enough (and being limited in their mobility since they needed room to carry things out too) would hold them back from scouting to the extent that he and Jonathan could.

If only, a traitorous thought whispered, You were on her team.

Pushing it aside, he shifted his focus on the streets below, the little alleyways, the gratings that led to the sewers and the underground systems of the city—it was likely that those would be her choice of entrance.  They were still a long way from her actual target, but they needed to catch them first.  Before they entered the snares of the trap.

Jonathan’s voice whispered in his ear, “A shimmer of steel—Archangel’s wings fifty meters to your left.  Alleyway grating pushed up.”

Ah.  Specter’s right hand.  They would be in two separate groups though, two entry points.  Trickshot squinted to where Jonathan indicated, nodding as he caught sight of a brief flash, something no one else would notice, especially not from this far away.  But, since he knew where, he could see.

“Keep looking,” he whispered back, “There should be a second group, that’s where Specter will be.  We need both before we move.”

With a lack of anything else to do for the moment, he kept his eye on the small group of figures in black moving. Archangels wings were even painted black to blend in, but the slightest shimmer of their gears was the tell for Jonathan’s sight.  From this far away Trickshot couldn’t identify the other members, but he was sure they were the profiles he had seen before.  Perhaps a few new ones as well—her group was ever-growing.

“Twenty meters north and thirty meters west from your position—doorway of a building near a streetlamp.  Probably has an underground entrance inside.”

Trickshot smiled, relieved, shifting his attention away from the others who he knew Jonathan would keep track of as well, tapping his goggles to enhance his own vision (although mere tech couldn’t compare with Jonathan), and just as he had thought, there she was.  Alone—a surprise, but not too much of one.

She was sacrificial, he thought.

“You handle the others, try not to fight them.  But we can’t have them fall into the trap.  I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t get distracted,” Jonathan’s tone was lilting, “Recall that you don’t want her to complete her mission this time.”

“I know,” Trickshot smirked, “I don’t get caught by such distractions so easily.”

“Ah, leaving the ‘like you’ unspoken, how unlike you.”

“Just try not to harm her subordinates. We’re trying to save them, not make things worse.”

“There’s only two others, I’m sure they’ll be amiable.  I have a good reputation.”

“Oh, rub it in why don’t you.”

They could go on like hours like that, but they both had tasks to complete.  He saw Jonathan glide down from the radio tower, landing soundlessly on the rooftop before running, heading towards where Archangel was. Meanwhile, Trickshot shifted his own attention to where Specter was starting to move, sticking to the shadows, and he would have to catch up to her quickly before she’d phase out.

He leapt between rooftops until he was closer to her, jumping down onto a staircase at the edge of a building.  He allowed his impact to rattle the metal, creating a slight sound, enough to catch her attention.  And it did, immediately her gaze snapping to him, alert and prepared.

He held his hands up, palms out, raising his voice only enough to be heard, “I’m not—”

Specter blinked out of existence underneath him, and before he could even think of where she would go, she reappeared, right beside him, soundlessly on the metal, her dagger up and ready a mere foot away.

He froze, eyes widening a bit, continuing as he carefully kept still, “—Intending to do you harm.  I want to help.”

“You’re…Trickshot.”  Her brows furrowed, green eyes bright in the dark. Slowly her dagger lowered, just slightly, “…Where’s Sentinel?”

So, she knew enough to know that they were rarely apart.  He answered with ease, “Spotter is speaking to Archangel.  And whoever else is here, I didn’t quite see who was on your other team.”

Her eyes narrowed, dagger raised again, “How did you know where we’d be?”

“Your operation has been leaked.  A lot of people are trying to capture you, heroes and police alike.  I caught wind of it and wanted to tip you off before you were in the trap.”

“How did you know where I would be?” she repeated, slowly, although she still didn’t quite seem hostile.  It was starting to hurt, keeping his hands raised, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be seen as a threat to her, so he remained motionless.

“I’ve been observing your group’s actions. Reports, CCTV feeds, anything I could get my hands on.  I’ve only run into you a few times in person, far off, but—” he swallowed, “I made an educated guess.  And Spotter’s eyes did the rest.”

“You’ve…you have helped us, in the past. I noticed how sometimes our path would suspiciously clear, even though we expected a fight on our way out of somewhere—but never have you appeared before an operation.  You’re with them, aren’t you?  The people trying to get us?”

He was pleased she had noticed that much, at least, he hadn’t ever really been trying to hide, “No,” he replied smoothly, “They keep me out of the loop.  I learned of their intentions from a contact—I have not been involved in their planning or their chase of you and your crew.  I have no interest in labelling you as a foe.”

Her dagger lowered, again, this time staying low, and she took a step back (not that distance meant much for a teleporter).  He allowed himself to lower his hands, but he kept them away from his belt.  He continued, “I don’t want you to walk right into a trap.  I know you aren’t what they’re claiming you are—and I don’t know what you are, but I’ve been wanting to know.”

He was usually skilled at reading expressions, but he couldn’t quite parse what emotion it was crossing her face at the moment.  She seemed to be evaluating him, that much was clear and predictable, but he couldn’t discern what it is she saw.  Did she believe him?  Trust him, or at least trust his words?

“…How many are in the trap?”

“I don’t know that much.  But when we were scanning the area, Spotter discerned that three blocks around your target is entirely stonewalled.  They’re all undercover but there’s signs, equipment and practiced patrol routines that aren’t as normal-passing as they’d think.”

“…How much do you know?”

It was easy to respond, perhaps a little too easy to share his information, but he had been waiting for this for what felt like so long, to actually stand in front of her and speak to her, to be a more proper ally to what he felt was right.  Even though he didn’t understand yet, he had seen the sort of things her people had been doing, and none of it was with true evil intent.  “I don’t know what your purpose is.  Or what your target is.  Only where.”

“And still, you warn me?  Without even understanding?”

“How am I supposed to understand with so little information?”

She let out a breath, the barest hint of a laugh escaping her lips, “Good point,” she mused, a corner of her lips tugging upwards, “I suppose that’s too much to ask of anyone when so much is hidden.”

“I want to uncover it,” he said, “I know something is wrong but I don’t know what you’re fighting.”

She stepped back a little farther, shrugging her shoulders, “You have to find that out yourself.  I can’t just tell you.  You have to see it.”  Her eyes glittered, “Sentinel has good eyes.  He might be able to, if you help him figure out where to look.”

He paused, unsure of how to respond to that, frustrated but unable to direct it towards anything.  His fingers clenched slightly.  Finally, he shook his head, “You aren’t still going to go for the hit, are you?”

She tilted her head, “Hm.  No, not with the forces you described.  This one wasn’t that important.  It’s not worth getting captured, or risking my allies. Archangel agrees—Sentinel is someone even we’re prone to trust.”

He tried not to be too obviously relieved, but was sure that some of it bled through his façade, “Good.  I wouldn’t have wanted all my efforts to go to waste here.”

She blinked, scanning him over, seemingly evaluating him again, “I’m sure we would have gotten out of it, but perhaps we wouldn’t be unscathed.  While, clearly, we are now, even if our goal remains unaccomplished.”

“I’m sure you can plan accordingly later. In the meantime, I suggest you figure out the source of your leak.  Someone who knows about your operations leaked it to the authorities, and they leaked it to my source.  So…be careful.”

She nodded, “…Thank you,” she said after a moment.  “…I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again.”

And, before he could reply, she vanished once more, and he didn’t see her reappear.

Jonathan’s voice crackled from his earpiece, “Archangel is headed back through the underground.  Specter gave the order, but even before that she was listening to me. We aren’t seen as foes as much as you thought, Trick.”

“I’m glad whatever they were hitting is unimportant enough to drop.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what we’d do if they just ignored us.  I guess at least they’d be warned?”

“Yeah,” Trickshot agreed.  And as Jonathan chattered on about meeting back up and heading back to base (“Which we really need to rename,” he added), he was left to his thoughts of that scenario.  What would they have done?  Gone back after simply accepting that they had done all they could by informing them? Or—

Would he have followed her?

[wroammin]

Passionfruit and Pomegranate

Word Count: 1,110

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: they say deceit’s name once

Summary: Based off of @breloomings’ really pretty Virom fusion design, Roman and Virgil find out that fusion is a thing

Author’s Note: god this took me ages but it’s here!! finally! also at the end, just so people know, virgil was actually ok with fusing

This is stupid, Virgil thought to himself as he swayed along to the music. Roman and him were slow dancing.

Both insisted it was because they were out of practice. Though what they were practicing for, neither had an idea. Maybe it was for their wedding?

Roman was standing in front of Virgil with his stupidly dazzling smile and his stupidly perfect hair and his stupidly kissable face.

Oh, did he say kissable? He meant punchable. Roman had a punchable face.

Roman’s punchable face shot Virgil another soft smile. Virgil would be lying if he said he didn’t slightly melt under Roman’s gaze. And he didn’t want to make Deceit stronger by lying.

Before Virgil could melt into a mess of a purple puddle, however, Roman suddenly spun Virgil around, causing his thoughts to go into a dizzying frenzy.

When he stopped, Virgil spoke up,

“Oh, my god. Never do that again.”

“But, romantic movie clichés!” Roman protested, making Virgil do a smaller twirl.

Virgil’s deadly glare was enough to convince him.

“Ugh, fine.” Roman conceded, looking down at the floor. Virgil made the mistake of assuming he was safe.

It happened too quickly for Virgil to process, his only warning being the mischievous grin Roman gave him before he turned around and dipped Virgil.

“That’s it! If I vomit, I’m aiming for you!” Virgil threatened, but his cheeks were ever so slightly tinted with shades of pink.

“Okay, okay!” Roman said, laughing, “I sincerely apologize, Virgil.”

Roman let go of Virgil’s waist, giving the other side a mock-bow before he sat down on the couch of Thomas’ living room. Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman’s dramatics.

“For some reason, I don’t think you’re being sincere.” Virgil crossed his arms and cocked a brow at the princely side.

Princey faked a knife to his heart, “You wound me, Virgil! I am wounded!”

Virgil laughed slightly, then suddenly became serious again.

“Alright, get up!” Virgil demanded, “we are not done dancing.”

Roman was caught off guard at Virgil’s tone, but he immediately stood up.

“Of course, my Prince Harming.” Roman replied as he tried to place his hands on Virgil’s waist again.

“Oh, no. I’m leading this time.” Virgil moved Roman’s hands to his shoulders and moved his own hands to Roman’s waist.

“That’s fair.” Roman admitted. Roman snapped his fingers, causing music to slowly arise from nowhere.

Virgil and Roman moved in tune with the slow song. Roman was clearly more experienced in dance, but that didn’t stop Virgil from trying. They stayed that way for a while, smiling and laughing like two dorks. But secretly, Virgil was building up his plan.

Roman was completely unaware of Virgil’s heinous plan. He was busy focusing on the way Virgil’s mouth quickly quirked up in a subtle smile, and the way he endearingly led the dance with a bit of awkward grace. It was an oxymoron, sure, but it somehow made perfect sense to Roman.

Then, Roman’s world was turned upside-down. Quite literally. Suddenly he was on the floor, with Virgil standing, cackling, above him.

“Whoops!” Was Virgil’s only note, laughing as Roman leaned back up, his hair tousled more than he would like.

“You are so dead.” Roman leaped up, and Virgil immediately ran off, but he was too late. Roman grabbed him and whisked him into the air with a grand spin. Virgil was shrieking and hissing all the way, but they were both laughing.

Their laughter seemed to blend into one boisterous noise, and Roman felt utter joy as he just threw his head back, closed his eyes, and laughed. He was with Virgil and he was so happy he couldn’t stop laughing.

The electric shock Roman felt whenever he made physical contact with Virgil soon became a constant tingling, filling him with energy. Roman felt Virgil get closer to him, and closer, and closer, and- wait.

Virgil was too close.

Virom’s eyes flitted open, startled. Virom did not remember putting on boots this morning, and he certainly did not recall ever putting on a jacket. He felt a tug to examine his hands- no, their hands. Virom certainly would never pick a shade of purple like the one he- they- were now wearing. Virom thought it looked nice.

Virom, along with the thrilling jolt of energy coursing through his veins, also felt a jarring sense of panic. The feeling rose and clogged his thoughts until he burst with the pressure.

Virgil fell back into the couch, while Roman slid across the carpet. It was quiet for exactly two seconds.

“Did we just- how did we- what was that?!” Virgil nervously spewed. He ran his fingers through his hair, no longer feeling the crown on his head. Virgil patted himself over, making sure he was wearing a hoodie, not a sash.

Roman was slightly more excited than confused, as opposed to Virgil.

“We fused! Oh, oh! We should call it Vir- um- Ro… we should call it Virom! Yes, that’s it!”

“Well, it’s never going to happen again so don’t get attached.” Virgil remarked. Roman’s face fell, but he recovered quickly.

“Yeah, no, um, I’m really sorry about that. I should have noticed we were about to fuse. It won’t happen again.” Roman apologized.

Virgil noticed Roman’s unenthusiastic response, however.

“It’s just- did you feel that weird thing? Like, all over. Kind of like, like,”

“Like electricity?” Roman finished.

“Yeah! That! Isn’t that… bad?” Virgil cocked his head to the side as Roman appeared to hold back a smile.

“Virgil.” Roman looked at the other side directly in his very confused eyes.

“What.”

“You’ve got a crush on me!” Roman sing-songed. Virgil immediately spiraled into a series of protests and sputtering noises of complaint.

“Do not!” Virgil hissed.

“Do, too!” Roman countered.

“I do not!” Virgil insisted, pulling his hoodie up to hide the scarlet blush that was dusting his cheeks.

“Come on, Virgil, all these lies ought to summon Deceit soon so you may want to stop denying your undying love for me.” Roman teased, causing Virgil to make a groan of annoyance and retreat deeper into his hoodie cave.

“Shut up, Princey.”

“I think you mean shut up and kiss me?” Roman laughed. Then Virgil did kiss him. It was surprising, but as Virgil proceeded to literally dip Roman, the princely side felt an electrifying shot of adrenaline and warmth. The feeling built itself up until Roman felt a crown on his head and another presence in his mind. He quickly adjusted this time.

Roman and Virgil had never felt so much love before. They felt whole and happy. Most importantly, they were together. They were Virom.

[crowned-ladybug]

@popsicletheduck

It took me so long to drag my butt into writing again, I’m so sorry!!! And this is so short, but I figured writing short is better than writing nothing, right?

(I’m also gonna work on the other prompt from this and all the rest in my inbox, expect those uhh.......sometime this century)

***

OC blog is @menagerie-of-morons

Prompt: “You’re a terrible lair.”

Setting: Rivals AU

Characters: Marvin, Jackie, a bit of Stephen

Ship: technically Jackie/Marvin, but they’re just being cute and not explicitly together

Word count: 766 words

Warnings: none

***

“No, I- I’m fine, come on, I-”

“Nope,” Jackie says, cutting off Marvin’s renewed string of complaints, and this time he makes sure to use his super strength to pin him back onto the bed. For sure this time. “You’re a horrible lair. Also, you sound like a mountain dwarf crossed with construction work and kinda look like it too, so you definitely do Not have permission to get out of bed today.”

“Mountain...I don’t need your permission to get up!”

Okay, so maybe he woke up coughing his lungs out and his voice is nowhere to be found, and okay, maybe he also feels dizzy as shit every time he stands, but he’s fine! Really! He just needs to get a fashionable scarf and a cup of neocitran, and he’ll be good for the day. It’s definitely not something to make such a fuss about.

“Good! ‘Cause you’re not getting it!” when he feels Marvin trying to squirm out of his grasp again, he feigns a bit more seriousness. “If you keep struggling, I’ll sit on your stomach until you give in.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks! Limit my lung capacity even more, will you?”

He doesn’t sound Nearly as menacing as he could if he wasn’t so sick. But he makes an attempt anyway.

Jackie grins, and it’s the most he’ll do right now, he really can’t laugh in the face of such a serious situation! “You keep your lungs in your stomach?”

“Details!”

Eventually, with the help of mainly Chase and Stephen (Teddy is kind of helpless when it comes to “friendly violence” and Anraí is strictly forbidden anywhere near a sick Marvin lest said sick Marvin would want to show off just how healthy and okay he is in the presence of The Long Thing and then promptly keel over), they manage to wrestle Marvin into bed for the day. He gets instructions from Stephen that are half fatherly scolding, half professional advice, and a cup of neocitran that he whines over a lot.

(“This tastes so bad! I don’t want it!”

“Well, do you want to get better or not?”

“You know, I’m seriously reconsidering my answer to that.”)

But of course, just as they manage to deal with a problem, a new one arises anyway.

“You can Not, under any circumstances, cuddle with me when I’m sick!”

All Jackie does is smile up at him lazily from his cosy spot on the bed. “And how are you planning to stop me?”

“You just don’t act all smug at me!” he tries to inch even closer to the edge of the bed without falling off, which is quite the challenge, especially while he’s still glaring down at Jackie instead of looking where he’s putting his bum. “I will Not be responsible for you getting sick despite your overconfident immune system.”

“You’re just grumpy because you’re sick.”

“I’m not grumpy!” objects Marvin while looking sufficiently grumpy. “Get out of my bed, you biohazard.”

Jackie laughs. “Not a chance! Now come here, I’ll hug it better.”

“You can’t ‘hug better’ sickness, Jackie.”

“You say that because you’ve never seen me do it before. You’ve never been sick in my hugging range before, either! What if it’s my new superpower? You haven’t even considered that, huh?” he opens his arms and waves a hand in Marvin’s direction as an invitation to come cuddle already. “Now come on, I’ll play with your hair and everything!”

For a moment Marvin keeps up his cold stare, but Jackie can all but see the cogwheels turning in his head. Finally he sighs and falls back onto his pillow dramatically.

“You’re quite the charming little shit, you know that?”

“Oh, I try.”

He tugs on Marvin gently until he finally lies close and relaxed enough to cuddle properly. He immediately starts petting his hair as promised, and even without looking he can tell just how delighted Marvin is by that.

“Will you braid my hair again sometime?” Marvin asks, somehow not fully committed to cuddling just yet, but his voice much, much softer than before.

“Hmm, sure.”

“The one where you, like, make two braids on each side and then they turn into one big one at the back?”

Jackie chuckles as he gently untangles a strand of hair from around his fingers, then goes back to his slow rhythm of running his fingers through Marvin’s hair. “Yeah. The one with the two little ones that turn into a big one, got it.”

“It’s a deal then,” Marvin hums, and he finally shuffles forward to rest his face against Jackie’s chest.

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Strive Pt. 19

{PART 1} {PART 2} {PART 3} {PART 4} {PART 5} {PART 6} {PART 7} {PART 8} {PART 9} {PART 10} {PART 11} {PART 12} {PART 13} {PART 14} {PART 15} {PART 16} {PART 17} {PART 18}

Pair: Tomarry

Rating: M-E(depends)

Tags: Mild Language, Homosexuality, Sexism, Obsessed Tom, Time-Travel/Dimension-Travel, Teacher/Student, Eventual Romance, Teacher-Harry, Grey!Harry, MoD(sort of), Death!being,

Tom began enforcing his demands over his fellow Slytherins. The end of the year exams were coming sooner than any of them would like to think, and for the seventh years that meant their N.E.W.T.s. And as those were always more difficult, they required more studying and consideration than anything else at present.

He wanted the entirety of Slytherin to do well on their exams. Even the somewhat challenged students were expected to scrape by with Acceptables because he refused to have his minions poorly representing him in any manner. And they all knew that if there was so much as one Troll, all hell would be set loose upon them.

Their reviews in class had become more intense as well.

Professor Potter had been the most strict with them because he expected more out of his students than any other teacher had during Tom's time at Hogwarts. He had a mental scale of where seventeen/eighteen year olds should be in terms of magical skills and put them to the test during every class and every club meeting. He pushed them harder than he ever had before and didn't accept excuses.

The interesting thing about his teachings, was that he focused a lot more on defensive tactics even while using offensive spells. Potter didn't want anyone to end up stranded should they somehow get caught in the crossfires of Grindelwald's forces. He wanted to arm them with the means to escape such a situation should it potentially arise, but he did not want them to have to fight for their lives.

And Tom hadn't minded when he realised just what the man he admired was doing. Potter actually cared. Sometimes it felt like the teachers truly didn't care about the students because they were just passing faces. Within seven years this batch would be gone and would be replaced like always. Every school was a revolving door basically. But it was obvious that Potter cared and was trying his best to help their future endeavours.

The man had been new but was sacrificing sleep and time because he wanted to help the students learn more easily. Because he wanted them to actually reach the potential they all possessed. Because Potter saw something in each and every student and decided that it was something worth his attention. Something worth the amount of effort he put in to help them.

Personally, Tom couldn't say he saw the same, but he at least appreciated that Potter would be so optimistic. Even when optimism seemed pointless sometimes. At least Potter had faith in his students. And he didn't judge them based upon prior actions of theirs.

All Tom needed to do was to study as much as possible in between all the small tutoring sessions he'd been giving to the younger students who'd been paying for his help.

He really needed to become a teacher. There was just something about watching people succeed because of him. And he knew it was because of him since so many of those students would still be utterly hopeless without his aid.

Tom had to make sure that when he came to Hogwarts to apply for a job, he did it when Dumbledore wasn't around so he couldn't attempt to interfere. And he knew very well that Dumbledore would no doubt try to put a wrench in his plans even if he didn't know what they were exactly.

The Slytherins were whispering thanks to the recent article in the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore had been landed with major fines though the details had remained private. Still, the knowledge of his suffering made many hearts feel lighter as the N.E.W.T.s drew nearer. The Slytherins were espeically pleased with this information since it felt like the man was finally getting his comeuppance after years of being an arsehole with contradictory views.

Dippet was constantly on edge during meals recently, and it probably had to do with how he hated confrontation. The man was like a wet doormat and didn't really like doing much of anything. He was also relatively easily to manipulate if one knew how.

His former Deputy being investigated made him look bad for never noticing anything he had done before Lord Malfoy lodged a complaint. And people liked to talk in the wizarding world. No one was a stranger to rumours and Tom had heard a few people wondering none too quietly, if he'd been in on Dumbledore's actions because Dumbledore was so famous so he'd get away with more than others would. Had Dippet possibly turned a blind eye to his attitude because of who Dumbledore was? Or had Dumbledore bribed him somehow?

This left the man in a precarious position and he had to tread carefully lest he lose his own job.

Truthfully, Potter would be a better Headmaster than anyone else on the staff.

"Thank Merlin that it's all over!" said Abraxas as he pretended to faint onto one of the green sofas of the Common Room. "I never want to see another book or piece of parchment every again!" he cried dramatically.

"If you wish to become the Lord of your House you'll have to suck it up," said Nott blandly, holding up the very thing Abraxas claimed to never want to lay eyes on again. "Otherwise I'm certain your parents will gladly try for another child if it bothers you that much."

There was a shared look of disgust from all but Tom, who didn't care enough about things not about him to be emotionally invested in them. Tom was busy reading through the review he'd made for his Charms N.E.W.T. and nodded to himself as he noted every single thing that had been asked on the Theoretical exam. And then of course the Practical where he'd scored an extra point for his Corporeal Patronus.

That same day, he'd also taken his Transfiguration N.E.W.T. and he'd gotten an extra five points because of his Animagus form.

Yes, Tom had succeeded! Months ago he'd done the entire ritual to the exact measure and had finally managed to figure out his Animagus form. No surprise, it was a snake. And use of the Room of Requirement allowed him to make use of a room full of mirrors so her could see just what kind of snake he was.

He was an all-black Horned Viper with equally black eyes to show that he wasn't a natural serpent. Horned Vipers weren't black. They were usually shades similar to sand or dirt in order to camouflage themselves more easily. He had two pointed horns atop his head as well as had the venom the common serpents of the species possessed. He was sure of how to use it yet but he'd get there eventually.

And when he Transfigured himself right in front of the examiner, the woman had tittered with excitement and called him a genius as she batted her lashes in exaggeration. She also handed over a form for him to fill out so the Ministry could register him immediately. He'd received high praise for his accomplishment since not many magicals even attempted to become Animagi and certainly never before graduation.

He'd put in the time and effort and while he'd attained his form months back, he'd practiced consistently in order to officially debut it for his N.E.W.T. exam. That way he could do it on command and it seemed more impressive that way.

Perfection was what Tom strove for. Among other things of course.

He'd been assured that he'd set the record for the youngest Animagus in British history. It was a pleasing piece of information and made his day all the better.

Tom always did love succeeding.

And at some point in the future he would have more time on hand to fully explore what he was capable of when in his snake form. He could imagine all the spying possibilities!

Tom entered Professor Potter's office with slight trepidation. He didn't actually know why the man had called him over, but he knew it at least had to be important.

The man was seated as usual, though his hair was a bigger mess than it usually was, and he looked so very tired. Like he was out on the front lines of either war and was just done with everything. There were literal lines on his face.

"Mr. Riddle, I know it's a bit sudden to just be calling up up here but I felt it urgent to speak with you."

"Is this about my N.E.W.T. score, sir?" No one could blame Tom for being worried around his grades. They were the most important things to him at present. All Tom really had to his name was his intellect. And Parseltongue, but for things publicly expressed, his intelligence was it.

The older man shook his head. "I simply felt it better to inform you of this in private. London was bombed yesterday."

"Again?" was the only thing he could ask. Over the past several years, London had been perpetually bombed over and over. He'd managed to never be there personally when it happened, but London was a major city and as such, it was often a target of the Nazis. Still, mid-June of 1944 and they were still bombing London!

Why anyone would choose to continue living in such a place when it was constantly under attack made no sense to him. The orphanage itself had been lucky enough to escape any damage, not that the buildings around it were lucky enough to say the same. In fact, on the very block of road, Wool's was the only building still relatively intact if one didn't count the already numerous damages from years of disrepair. It was over a century old after all.

"I'm afraid so. The bombs were a lot larger this time and caused considerable damage. I felt it best to warn you ahead of time. I do not know if you intend to go back once you graduate or not, but it's always best to be aware or your surroundings."

Thank Merlin Tom had in fact not been planning to go back. And really, who would miss him in that hellhole he grew up in? They'd just think of him as another casualty of war and for once he wouldn't mind that in the least. Their opinions meant nothing to him. He'd be doing things they could only dream of once the time came.

"I won't be returning there, sir. But thank you for your concern."

He was… dare he say, touched that the man felt enough concern over his well being. No one ever truly had before. Not that Tom ever really had anyone that would care about him anyway.

Potter smiled a small smile that was filled with both sadness and relief. "Forgive me for intruding but will you have somewhere to stay after the term ends?"

Not really. He could probably get an invitation to spend the summer with Abraxas, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. On one hand he wanted to be on his own to do things on his own and explore his interests on his own, but on another he longed to remain at Hogwarts. He knew he'd miss everything but the other students.

"I'll take your silence as a negative."

Tom willed his face to not blush because he didn't like blushing and didn't like expressing common emotions. And he didn't want Professor Potter to see him when he wasn't in perfect control. The man had already seen enough emotion from Tom and Merlin forbid he see more.

Potter fiddled with his spectacles for a moment, tossing them between his hands without a thought. "As you can imagine, I am being stretched a little thin when it comes to all the work I'm doing now. I simply have too much to focus on at present and I might need some assistance come the new term."

Was he honestly doing what Tom thought he was doing? Tom held his breath in anticipation, afraid to get his hopes up too much.

"Perhaps you can apply to be a Teacher's Assistant. Mine, to be more precise. And you and I would have control over the DADA classes and would be working together to instruct the students. I will still maintain control over the Dueling Club, but my duties as Deputy Headmaster are unfortunately very taxing and time consuming, and there is more to do than you'd think."

"Yes," was all Tom could say. Because he'd been given essentially what he'd wanted. He would work at Hogwarts and stay where he'd longed to be. He'd have a guaranteed place to sleep and food every day. And he would have access to the Library and wouldn't be forbidden from the Restricted Section because he would no longer be a student. And he'd be around Potter every single day. It was all he could ask for.

Potter smiled much brighter this time, and Tom could feel the odd lightness in his stomach in response to how charming the man appeared. And how effortless it was for him too.

"I'm glad. You are a model student. You are intelligent and from what I've heard of your N.E.W.T. scores, you set some records. And the benefit of assisting me will aide you in the long haul. Especially when I intend to win that Dueling Mastery come July."

Ah, yes. If the man managed to become a Dueling Master, then Tom would be able to learn more from him than a usual student would and no one could claim favouritism.

"Thank you, sir."

"In order for us to truly mesh well, we'll need to spend this summer getting better acquainted, don't you think? I'll inform the Elves that your possessions will be moved to your new room post haste."

Tom was going to be working at Hogwarts. Despite the unpleasant news about London, this ended up being a great day for him.

The very last day. As a student at least. This wasn't Tom's last day at Hogwarts in general, but he was still feeling a little emotional at the thought of how a few weeks ago he'd been under the impression that he'd have to stay in Diagon Alley all summer, possibly struggling to get by until he could hopefully apply for a job at Hogwarts. Possibly having to listen to the explosions not too far away from where he'd sleep. And now he was sure of the fact that he was going to be okay. He was in the safest place in the British Isles.

Nothing could get to him here. And Professor Potter was perfectly fine with him staying over the summer. In fact, he wasn't the only one staying. With Dumbledore no longer in Dippet's favour, Dippet was easier to convince of certain things. And Potter was the favourite professor, as well as his Deputy, so listening to him was a good idea.

Four other muggle-raised students would be staying over the summer because they too lived in London and it was too dangerous to go back yet. Potter had already set up rooms for their families to use if they had to come to Hogwarts to escape the tragedy. Tom had already seen the tears of absolute gratitude for the man's actions and would admit to himself alone that he'd also felt a little emotional as well.

How was it that Potter could understand the absolute seriousness of the muggle world war, but Dumbledore, a fellow Halfblood just like them, couldn't?

It was like every time he turned around, Potter gave Tom another reason to admire him.

Tom's only regret was that Potter hadn't come to them years ago, where he would have no doubt done something then as well. Tom wasn't blind to the fact that some students never came back. And he understood exactly why things like that happened.

If only Potter, or someone at least like Potter, had been around when the bombings had started. Tom could think of so many students who would still be here.

A lot of magical people liked to claim they cared about muggleborns and muggle-raised children, but even the most Light of magical users overlooked those very people all the time. Sure, they bent some of the old laws and traditions to better cater to those new individuals, but did they ever really stop to think about truly integrating them into their society? No.

It was a glaring fault in all magical communities around the world.

But Tom could see that Potter wanted to change that. Because he actually gave a damn about everyone.

A/N: London was actually bombed during mid-June of 1944. It was the first use of a specific type of bomb too.

[manisha1205]

How To Respond To Fake Reviews of Your Business?

Online reviews are an extension of traditional "word-of-mouth" marketing. An individual purchases a product or service and shares their experience with friends. According to studies, 95% of shoppers read an internet review before deciding to buy. And 94% of buyers said an internet review persuaded them to shun a brand or organization. If you receive too many unfavorable reviews, your reputation will suffer, and your business will suffer.

Even well-managed business has bad days, so the odd nasty internet review is unavoidable.

But what about false and negative reviews? These could be aggravating, frustrating, and detrimental to your bottom line.

What is Review Management?

Review management is the practice of monitoring internet reviews about your company on numerous websites. This is done to guarantee that you can carry out your review response plan, address customer complaints as they emerge, and rapidly eliminate fake reviews before they cause problems.

All firms, irrespective of size, should practice review management. Your review management approach may vary depending on your company's objectives, but some standard procedures include responding to reviews, detecting and eliminating false ones.

Benefits of Review Management

It enables you to understand what is being written about your company online and to intervene in problems as they arise. Consumers who read reviews will notice that you are paying attention to what is being said, that you care about their experiences, and that you take the time to make things right.

Given the prevalence of bogus reviews, management ensures that your consumers only see authentic reviews to assist them in making decisions, whether they are excellent or negative. Furthermore, 9 out of 10 people read reviews before visiting or purchasing from a business; thus, ignoring the sites where people talk about you will hurt your customer acquisition.

4 Ways Fake Reviews Can Affect Your Business

The advantages of online reviews are well recognized, yet convincing customers to post a review may be a difficult task. In general, consumers do not offer feedback unless they are dissatisfied. Many companies prefer to outsource false reviews in order to boost their star rating. This may seem like a good idea at the moment, but it's critical to understand how fake reviews may harm your brand,

Fake reviews can break customers’     trust.

You could get fined for fake     reviews.

Your local search rankings and     traffic may fall.

You could seem to be too good to be     true.

5 Ways to Spot a Fake Review

1. The Review Does Not Contain Any Details

It's difficult to describe using a product or having an experience if you haven't really had it. Fake reviews frequently provide a broad idea rather than concentrating on specifics.

Fake reviews commonly use clichés like "This product transformed my life!" Because most people don't care that much about random things on the internet, fakers may feel compelled to embellish their reviews when it's not genuine.

"I was feeling low when my cat ran away, then I stumbled into discovering this product and can't believe how fantastic it is!" is an example of a similar issue. Personal stories appeal to your emotions, making you more likely to purchase something than you would otherwise. The focus of good reviews is on the product, not the reviewer.

2. Immaculate or Poor Grammar

A genuine review will appear to be written by a regular individual. It may have a few minor grammatical errors, but it should be clear and concise without seeming too formal. When the writing quality is on the extreme, it could be an indicator of fraudulent reviews.

If someone was paid to make the product sound as good as possible, you could identify it by how well-polished the review is. Look for words like "This software seamlessly interacts with the app ecosystem that my workflow requires," which seem like they came from a product description or a press release.

3. Extreme Negative or Positive Reviews

An overly positive review indicates either blind loyalty to the brand or that the reviewer has been compensated or benefited from it. Even if their overall opinion is positive, people will generally identify some flaws in a formal review. It's not helpful to say it's "wonderful" without explanation.

On the other hand, a fully bad review isn't going to benefit you much. People who slam a product may be attempting to harm the company's reputation as a result of a bad experience with it. Instead of posting sweeping angry comments, someone who truly wants to provide a one-star review will focus on the specific concerns they had with it.

4. Exaggerated Humor

Lots of people deal with reviews as an area to check their comedic skills. Sometimes, funny reviews may be welcome on some product listings. But often, humor and sarcasm could make it hard to inform whether or not a review is sincerely being humorous or simply writing a fake outline to get a laugh.

As a preferred rule, forget about reviews that do not speak about the product. More useful critiques might not wander away into tangents like these.

How to Respond to Fake Reviews?

It may be frustrating, but there is no guarantee that Google (or any other review site) will remove the fake review you are trying to remove. If it's too easy to delete a review, people who want to suppress honest negative feedback can easily abuse this process. With that in mind, follow the suggestions below to address any fake or fraudulent reviews you may have received.

Make sure your review violates your site's posted content policy. Here are some guidelines for the best review sites: Google, Facebook, and Yelp.

1. Confirm that the review you received is fake. The general characteristics of fake reviews are:

-        The reviewer's name does not appear anywhere in the customer database.

-        The review mentions services and products that you do not offer.

-        The review does not provide comments or explanations about their experience.  

2. Reply to the reviews to address the issues raised and reassure other customers you care about. And ensure to maintain a polite and professional tone in your response, because even if the review is fake your other customers will read your response to gauge your brand.

Review response example: "Thank you for submitting your review. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please contact us at <phone number> to provide details so we can address your concerns and resolve them. Thank you.”

P.S. Here are a couple of reviews you might find useful - 15 Review Response Templates to Quickly Reply to Online Reviews

3. Report the review from the review site. Google can report the review as inappropriate. Find the rating and click the small flag icon next to the star rating. On Facebook, businesses need to provide feedback on reviews. To do this, find the review and click the 3-dot menu button in the top right corner. Find the review on Yelp, click the flag icon, and select “Report Review” to report a review.

And that’s how you respond to fake or negative reviews online - state the fact, be polite and make sure not to escalate the issue any further.

Conclusion

Managing reviews across different channels can be challenging, and with the addition of scouting out fake reviews, it almost seems impossible. That’s why businesses use tools like SimplyReviews to manage all their review from different channels from one centralized inbox. Businesses can manage and organize their reviews by sentiment, rating and much more making it easier to spot reviews that might be fake.

The better you manage your fake and negative reviews, the better it is going to look for your business!

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[wannawrite]

In Your Area

who?: Yuehua’s / Idol Producer’s Zhu Zhengting genre: 🌸 type: bullet point - I’m sorry I promise scenarios soon

blog navigator.

neighbours! AU 

• you aren’t quite sure what to make of your new neighbour but hey, he’s nice and pretty cute

Zhengting is so boyfriend material no one understands how I feel :”) I thought Justin was immortalised as my YH baby but Zhengting popped off ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ Thanks for requesting fluff anon!! I really needed it

- Admin L

a/n: sorry this took like two decades and can y’all vote if you want us to start writing for IP in 2018. drop us a message/ask!!! 

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to be and credit goes to their original owners.

everything written is purely fictional 

ZT’s diary: (/^▽^)/ moving day

what. the. hell. is. happening.

the dream that played out like a perfect movie scene in your head was VERY rudely interrupted and ruined by the ‘clings’ and ‘clongs’ scarring your ears

wrapping your stuffed pillow around your ears weren’t providing much help either 

‘you’ve got to be joking...’

you groaned, realising there was, in fact, a new neighbour moving into that empty apartment next door

eyes closed, paradise fought to overpower your current reality

it was drifting in the distance, just out of reach, beckoning you to immerse yourself in the paradigm once again

but a loud crash resounded through the atmosphere and shattered whatever serenity there was

muttering complaints under your breath, you peeled your eyes open and slowly clambered out of bed 

sickening...who moves in at this unholy hour 

it was 9am 

I found out that sleeping until 9am isn’t a hard task I thought it to be  

do these people have a conscience? are they not aware that weekends are time for people to sleep in? 

while complaints and rants ran through your mind, your cousin and flatmate, Wenjun, threw the door open and barged into the room 

‘WAKE UP!’ 

his face displayed an enthusiastic puppy-like smile. ‘WE HAVE NEW NEIGHBOURS!’ 

great 

‘wonderful, I can tell. Now, go give them some gifts and greet them,’ you tell Wenjun before flipping over and pulling your blanket over your head 

‘NO! You come with me! Aren’t you supposed to be the older cousin?’ he complains. ‘It’s rude if I go alone.’ 

saying hi isn’t exactly the first thing I want to do 

you sigh. ‘Okay, okay but later. We should give them some time to settle in. Besides, we need time to get a proper gift.’ 

I just really need a couple more hours of sleep why can’t you get any hints Wenjun :((((

huh maybe this is why you’re still single even though all of the college kids are in love with you 

I follow the confessions page on ig, you don’t even know 

oblivious, really 

‘just go get something appropriate from the mall nearby.’ you shove Wenjun, eyes still shut and head still resting on your pillow 

‘we have to choose it together so it’s more meaningful,’ he says. ‘sleep can wait.’ 

this child knows nothing about junior year in college 

lucky sophomore 

sunlight begins to gently flitter in from the curtains, you almost enjoy the warm sensation as it lulls you back to sleep 

that is before Wenjun decides to be a little pest and yanks the material apart, bathing your room in ample sunlight 

it tickles your face and burns into your eyes, effectively driving you out of bed 

‘OKAY! Just let me get ready first,’ you huff grumpily. ‘Wait till your mother hears about this.’ 

Wenjun just sticks his tongue out and prances off 

brat 

hastily and half asleep, you pull on a random college camp shirt and walk out in your sleeping shorts 

‘get me my sunglasses like qinfen’s and car keys,’ you order Wenjun since it is HIS fault for making me arise so early 

I can’t let Mrs Lau on the 8th floor see me like this...geez that nosy auntie 

she’ll tell this whole block for sure 

I know she secretly tracks our movement to arrive at the lift and the exact time when the gossip is fresh 

she really has too much time on her hands being the newest third wife of her current sugar daddy of a husband 

I hope our new neighbours aren’t like her...I also pray they know what they’re getting themselves into by moving into this condominium 

if we get just ONE more snobby, rich, gossip digger neighbour, I’ll gladly pay for that 11.2 million mansion Wenjun was looking at 

there’s no denying the estate you and your cousin resided in was a rich one, flourishing with the younger generation of old-money families

it didn’t help that prestigious universities were planted nearby 

okay fine, you and Wenjun lived big because of your family 

but y’all weren’t stuck up, gossipy or as gold-digging, as the majority of the neighbours you had encountered 

the new ones next door better not be any of the above 

click click click 

Wenjen pops his head over your shoulder to stare at your phone. ‘Why are you searching up that mansion? Are we moving house?’ 

your eyes swivel to check if anyone was lurking in the corridor before whispering in a hushed tone, ‘No but we will be if our new neighbours are anything like the existing ones.’ 

Wenjun sighs and shakes his head dramatically but his lips quirk up playfully 

‘I’m sure they aren’t that terrible. C’mon, let me get my new Gucci sneakers.’ 

remind me why my kid cousin wants to wear his 2K shoes to the mall smh 

no one is going to see them 

besides, isn’t Gucci a little overexposed nowadays? 

yes, I went to the local Gucci store to check it was like 1.9K? but round it up

pushing the gate open, you manoeuvre your way around the piles of cardboard boxes 

simple cardboard boxes 

nothing at all like the usual sleek black boxes embellished with the family name in silver calligraphy font 

all of which ended up in the trash bin afterwards 

dumb 

flip flop flip flop 

‘...could you at least get a new pair of...marketing slippers?’ Wenjun pointed out, blinking in horror at your worn out slippers, the left side’s sole was loose and threatening to fall  

‘oh stuff it rich kid. These were from Rubi and there was a sale!’ 

that led to a family bicker over slippers right outside your front door 

the two of you were so engrossed that you didn’t hear the pairs of footsteps drawing closer 

‘um hi?’ 

you froze 

Wenjun had a faster reaction time. He beamed brightly and cleared his throat. ‘Hi! Welcome to the neighbourhood! Have you guys eaten yet?’ 

吃饭了吗？

your eyes scanned over the two boys who would now occupy the last flat at the end of the corridor 

they both had dyed hair just in differing colours, one blonde and the other jet black 

both were tall 

one seemed older and more athletic than the other 

‘I’m Bi Wenjun and this,’ Wenjun paused to shove you the in ribs. ‘Is my cousin, Y/N.’ 

the boy with the blonde hair spoke first, smiling to reveal pearly whites. ‘I’m Zhu Zhengting and he’s my brother, Justin.’ 

not related but YH are so close they’re all fam 

OH SHIT 

AM I SERIOUSLY GREETING TWO HOT NEIGHBOURS IN MY PYJAMAS AND FLIP FLOPS 

WITH MY HAIR LOOKING LIKE A FRICKIN BIRD’S NEST 

at least there are Coach sunglasses perched on my head,,,not so bad not so bad 

Wenjun had already started making small talk. Just smile and wave! 

THIS IS SO HUMILIATING 

I’M NEVER WEARING THIS SHIRT AGAIN 

i need new shorts and slippers pronto!

• UGH 

‘oh! China School of Fine Arts! I go to the same college,’ Zhengting suddenly spoke up. 

at which Justin rolled his eyes at. ‘Pfp, not for a term. Don’t worry if you don’t recognise him, he never actually attends classes.’ 

Zhengting blushed and elbowed Justin away 

hm cute 

NO 

‘oh cool,’ your tone was clipped and you feigned disinterest, trying to get your burning face to cool off. ‘I suppose I’ll see you around.’ 

m o v e  you tried to send a telepathic message to Wenjun 

I CAN’T STAND ANOTHER SECOND BEING IN ZHENGTING’S PRESENCE WHEN I LOOK LIKE SHIT 

times Wenjun has been oblivious today: 2 

the wait seemed excruciating and when Wenjun finally bid them goodbye, you took of in the direction of the lift with a carelessly wave 

it was good that your neighbours were people around your age 

just so happened that Zhengting was incredibly good looking and currently the only dateable candidate available 

IF YOU CHANGED YOUR OUTFIT, THINGS WOULD HAVE TURNED OUT SO MUCH BETTER

all drive long, Wenjun kept teasing you about your appearance or gushing about how well he and Justin got along 

he insisted on gifting them the most expensive hamper from Tangs 

you didn’t see a need for two young adults to have bone strengthening essences meant for elderly 

but they were complementary in the particular hamper so...

supermarket was particularly quiet that morning 

and it seemed to be offering an alarming amount of samples and candy promotions 

candy was more suitable for a high schooler and college student but you weren’t up to argue with Wenjun

he seemed too whipped for Zhengting and Justin 

‘I need ice cream to get over this,’ you moaned. ‘There’s no way I can ever look our neighbours in the eye again!’ 

call me overdramatic but you would have done the same 

I haven’t even had breakfast yet 

stupid Wenjun 

I think it’s low blood sugar that’s causing me to be like this 

‘sweetie, it’s 10.30am in the morning and you are on a strict diet. Remember that detox tea you ordered a week ago?’ Wenjun reminded, shovelling free samples of chocolate chip cookies into his mouth 

why does my kid cousin always have a point...but my day was absolutely terrible! 

‘whatever, f*ck it. I’ll just pass those to Cheng Cheng.’ It was your turn to sample those cookies 

don’t you just love supermarkets? 

you didn’t think the back seat of your car would be stocked with boxes of biscuits 

morning supermarket runs are interesting in the Bi household 

luckily, there were no snooping neighbours in the lift lobby to witness the Bi cousins haul about a dozen plastic bags filled with questionable groceries 

such as croutons without a leaf of a lettuce 

lift buttons were nearly hidden from view by white plastic 

bring your own bags to shop! 

there were no longer any boxes lining the corridors when you guys arrived home 

thank god

imagine going all American Ninja Warrior with arms full of grocery bags 

there was a lot of packing going on in the kitchen 

and ripping open almost all of the cookie boxes by the time y’all were done 

Wenjun went over to lend a helping hand while you hibernated in your room, reflecting over your outfit choice and eat more 

it was just sheet embarrassment that plagued your mind and influenced your actions 

might as well be all comfortable and sappy around them because they’ve seen me in my pyjamas 

AND ZHENGTING IS PROBABLY MY BATCHMATE 

i hope he doesn’t follow the school’s confession page 

those thoughts made you crunch down on the biscuit with unnecessary strength 

ding dong 

the melodious - rather generic - chime of your doorbell broke your train of miserable thoughts 

‘hamper delivery!’ 

as you were still clad in your wonderful get up, you opened the door wide enough for only your head to be seen 

‘send it next door,’ you hissed quietly. ‘Say it’s from your new neighbours with love. Thanks!’ 

oh my god 

WITH LOVE? 

HEY ZHENGTING AND JUSTIN I LOVE YOU 

WENJUN IS GOING TO LAUGH HIS HEAD OFF LIKE A DAMN HYENA 

you slammed the door faster than the delivery man’s reply and raced to your bedroom 

‘i’m ruined.’ 

*cue dramatic Disney princess sob fest on bed* 

a few heart-pounding minutes passed, you strained your ears for any sign of reaction 

unfortunately, people paid for soundproofed walls around here 

yet, there seemed to be a sound coming from outside 

out of curiosity, you peeled away your balcony door to take a look 

lo and behold 

Zhengting was standing on the balcony, tossing small pebbles onto yours 

visual reference: Songyi and Minjoon’s apartment balconies from Kdrama ‘My Love From The Star’ 

is...he really wasting the decorative pebbles...

SHIT I’M STILL IN THE SAME OUTFIT NO NO NO 

battling a blush of complete mortification, you gestured for him to say something 

‘Thanks for the hamper!’ Zhengting yelled with a bright smile. ‘We appreciate it!’ 

on impulse, your lips stretched into a grin. ‘No problem! Welcome to the neighbourhood!’ 

he looked at the small trench of bamboo and pebbles separating the two balconies and then back at you 

please please please stop judging my outfit 

‘hopefully, we’ll see each other a lot.’ 

HUH? 

he shot one last smile, maybe a soft chuckle before stepping back into his room 

his words confused you

maybe he meant to spite your outfit choice 

or maybe he genuinely felt like seeing you more often 

that’s because he’s new and probably needs someone to show him around the estate and would rather have a friendly next-door neighbour do it than the security guard 

get your head out of your ass he doesn’t mean it like that 

hmm...

ZT’s diary: one 1/2 months of living with Justin╰( ･ ᗜ ･ )╯

over the course of a month, you learnt that Zhengting and Justin were very inconsiderate neighbours 

there was always some loud music playing from their flat at every time of the day 

fortunately for them, you and Wenjun were the only neighbours on the right side of the 12th floor and you didn’t really care much to complain

the resident care committee was rather useless anyway

regardless, their music still annoyed and distracted you to an extent

according to Wenjun their apartment was larger and thus, they had extra rooms to build a dance studio in

that was how you found out Zheng Ting was a dance major in CSFA

he just had to be under Professor Zhou or Professor Cheng

Cheng xiao’s real name is so cute omg

at least he was in a different major

you wondered if he knew Professor Wang

Professor Wang knew everybody and Zhengting looked like a popular kind of guy

+ the guy who actually liked his major

while it was touching to see how hard he worked, you wished ‘I am the sheep’ wasn’t stuck in your head while you were studying for a quiz

the clock read 2am, that was the time you finally snapped

popping panadol pills wasn’t going to take a headache away

the soundproofing here sucks! it only works whenever it wants to

shockingly, Wenjun was tucked away in his dreamland, wrapped up in a cocoon of his blankets and oblivious to the world that surrounded him

you grabbed your phone and stormed to your neighbour’s apartment, pounding furiously on the front door

it took a while but the music stopped playing and a few clicks of locks could be heard

‘hi,’Zheng Ting panted out, wiping the sweat that was beading on his forehead. ‘It’s about the noise level isn’t it?’

suddenly, the want to yell at him was gone

he! was! just! too! knowing!

it made you feel a bit ashamed

not to mention that his white shirt was slowly becoming see-through

you clasped your hands together, grinning.

‘No! Not at all! I-I j-just wanted to find out the song you’re dancing to.’

lie lie lie? 

Zhengting seemed to ponder about that for a moment before beckoning you to enter his apartment

not shady at all

let’s go

be sure to take off your flip flops before entering houses

each room was slightly larger than the ones in your home

surprisingly, the house was kept neat and tidy, minus the odd one or two boxes that had yet to be unpacked

‘where’s Justin?’

the lack of the younger boy’s presence in the flat noticeable

Zhengting revealed that Justin was away for a week visiting his family

no wonder Wenjun seemed a bit sulkier

Zhengting pushed open the door to his cosy little dance studio

honestly, it was spacious enough to have a group of dancers practice

very well lit by the fluorescent spotlights and outfitted with a panel of mirrors

there was even a ballet bar on the other side

and Zhengting had hidden this treasure how?

his personal studio was comparable to the ones at school

suddenly, you came face to face with an iPad, an iTunes tab open

‘these are all the songs I’ve been choreographing to recently, and uh...loudly as well,’ Zhengting said, handing you the device

all of his fancy music equipment was organised in a small shelf

cut

he’s so damn invested into his dancing career

‘why are you working so hard for?’ you wondered out loud

even during finals, Professor Wang never gave your class so many assignments to work on

this is so inaccurate ^ btw, don’t take my word for anything

Zhengting nibbled on his bottom lip and nervously readjusted his headband. Pink flushed his cheeks as he took a step closer to you

with his lips so close to your face, you could feel the ba-bumps of your heart quickening

if I tell you, will you promise not to reveal it to anyone else?’

so secretive

you nodded, eager to find out what Zhengting was hiding

‘all these are for the school’s dance showcase. this year is more exclusive and getting a seat in the audience is invite-only,’ he disclosed. ‘Scouts from all the prestigious academies are coming to take a look.’

a small gasp of astonishment left your mouth, hands flying into a congratulatory clap

*iPad falls from your grip and your reflexes aren’t quick enough*

forget the iPad

rip screen  

ZT has a million more in some boxes anyway

showcases were a MAJOR event for CSFA students, this had to be out of the world spectacular!

discovery: praise only caused your neighbour to turn redder than a tomato

‘will I receive an invitation any time soon?’ you teased, gently nudging his side with your elbow 

please say I didn’t smash his iPad screen

hey, I placed it on the floor G E N T L Y

a mischievous glint twinkled in Zhengting’s brown orbs

you guys KNOW that look

he let out a huff and pretended to be in deep thought, weighing out the pros and cons

arms akimbo, you willed for him to stop teasing and provide an answer

he genuinely has no idea if Professor Zhou will grant him so many passes, stop being so pushy😫😔

Zhengting clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth triumphantly, finally able to decide on his answer

‘okay, IF you help me fine tune my choreography a bit more, I’ll beg Professor Cheng to save you a seat,’he offered

SCORE!

‘sure, of course! I am a composer and rap study though,’ you quipped in reply, hoping he would still go through with the proposal

ZT shrugged nonchalantly, ‘the more diverse an opinion the better. And please, you’re all Prof Jin and Prof Jackson brag about to our classes.’

now was your turn to blush and deny his claims

who cared if his iPad was broken

at least his heart wasn’t

ZT’s diary: month two of living with Justin＼(・ω・)/

commotion 

yet again 

and it was early in the morning 

history does repeat itself 

thank goodness it wasn’t the sacred hour of 9am but 11am 

still early on in the new day 

however, havoc seemed to be wrecking your neighbours flat 

• one moment, the sharp charring of a vacuum cleaner could be heard and the next, shattering items or dropping of boxes boomed through the flat 

basically, just huge chaos 

not wanting to seem too nosy, you kept yourself from going over 

however, the level of pandemonium was getting so out of hand that Wenjun put down his gaming control and asked if he should check it out 

what could be so wrong on a Saturday morning? 

you opened your mouth to answer but was abruptly cut off by two urgent knocks on the front door 

the door creaked open to reveal a panicky, oddly-dressed Zhengting holding onto handles of pet crates 

‘hi,’ you quickly greeted, unable to stand the awkward silence. ‘Is everything alright?’ 

‘just peachy,’ he replied, tongue slipping over his chapped lips

ZZT WITH CHAPPED LIPS ???

WHAT WAS UP WITH HIS CLOTHING CHOICE TODAY?

my most fashionable neighbour is clad in a shirt that cost more than my life from some new streetwear brand and lounge pants - probably from the market - with yellow butterflies on them

what a fit, a fashion statement

such fittingly random sense of style today

something obviously wasn’t right

yes, I’m referring to his pyjamas featured on idol xinfan

YH sprouts rlly wear questionable clothes to sleep no offence

...at least they don’t sleep nude right?

like that’s living life on the edge imagine getting your period while sleeping that’ll be awful

anyway

turning your gaze on the pet carriers, you spot a pretty white kitten and a caramel coloured puppy

in separate carriers

‘I’ll explain later but um our parents are coming for a surprise visit and they don’t know about my babies yet so could you please look after them for an hour or so?’Zhengting begs, desperation creeping into his voice

an ear-splitting crash echoes from their apartment before Justin yells, ‘ge! I can’t get the cat fur off our clothes!’

this is an emergency!!!

you take the pets from his hands gleefully and throw out your lint roller in exchange

‘try this!’

in no way am I advertising lint rollers I don’t even think I have one

Zhengting shoots you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and hurriedly dashes over to Justin

Wenjun joins in a few moments later, leaving you alone to bond with your neighbours’ pets

a puppy and a kitten? sign me the f*ck up

sorry, couldn’t find if he was more a dog or cat person so you get the best of both worlds

the snow white kitten cautiously pads onto your ottoman while the more adventurous puppy bounces happily onto your bed

I think your heart just melted into a puddle of goo

just imagine Zhengting playing with these two cuties

ba bump, ba bump, babump, babumpbabump

since you’re worried the young animals might pee on your bed, you take them out to the balcony to play

an animal approved balcony

they mess with a collection of small potted

after which, grow tired and begin snuggling up to you for comfort

without caring you’re attempting conversation with pets - that are not even yours, you pose shy of a billion questions

like ‘is ZT treating you well?’, ‘does he look better with his hair up or down?’,‘isn’t he so cute?’

‘Zhengting’s so attractive,’ you muse wistfully not realising the man standing on the neighbouring balcony

ZT chuckles, feeling red tint his cheeks

he only emerged from his room to inhale a breath of fresh air before the intense grilling by his parents could pepper him

yet he felt his heart grow warmer than ever, prior to your heartfelt confession

*intermission*

the front door clicked shut behind Justin and the brothers flopped onto the living room carpet, finally able to breathe normally

we pulled it off, we did it,’ Justin gasped in disbelief, wondering if all the cleaning he had done was a lucid dream

but the realness of Zhengting’s high-five and sparkling counters proved him wrong

ah ha! whatever ge’s parents said to him also proved it happened!

‘soooo,’ he drawled out teasingly. ‘pa and ma think you’re attracted to our neighbour.’

Justin’s hand reached to pinch Zhengting’s steadily crimsoning cheeks

He only snickered when his ge swatted his fingers away as if they were pesky flies

puppy love

speaking of puppies, Justin insisted that Zhengting collect their babies back

knocking at your door, Zhengting had no idea why he felt more anxious than usual

his throbbing heart seemed to want to jump out of his chest

at least he was momentarily distracted by your endless gushing of love for his pets

compliment after compliment, love confession after love confession

shhh...he kind of wished you were referring to him

‘they’re such great listeners too!’

oh!

they admitted that I’m handsome!

Zhengting raised a smug eyebrow, mouth curling upwards. ‘So, you think I’m attractive huh?’

ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION I REPEAT ABORT MISSION

*sweats nervously*

thankfully, he doesn’t prompt for a reply as he takes the pet carriers from your grasp

with a wink, Zhengting walks off

leaving you in a frantic yet charmed mess

you: ZZT, you did NOT hear that

the text is fast, your fingers flurry over the keyboard  

his answer isn’t delayed either

zhengting: hear what? your Romeo&Julietesque confession of your love for me?

you: pft just bc we both have balconies doesn’t mean we’re Romeo and Juliet

you: it didn’t happen

you: I take my words back

zhengting: mhm and you definitely did not talk to my pets as if they were humans

you: SHUSH

zhengting: no :)

zhengting: come to the balcony

zhengting: please

zhengting: where are you

zhengting: :(

zhengting: come out or I’m calling Wenjun and exposing you

you rolled off your bed and onto your balcony faster than Usain Bolt

Zhengting had already propped his arms on the dividing decoration, awaiting your arrival

‘hey, secret lover,’ he poked. ‘Missed me?’

your orbs rolled in perfect circles,

‘please, I saw you a couple of minutes ago. If anything, I miss your puppy more.’

‘come over tonight.’

what? excuse me?

‘I really need help with my choreography. Please? You promised!’

Zhengting looked needy enough for you to say yes...plus, you wanted tickets to the showcase...and it couldn’t hurt to spend more time with help him right?

also because you wanted to see his pets again

you told him you would come over after dinner

the temptation would be too great to arrive on an empty stomach when a full-course meal awaits

Justin was clad in his baby blue onesie and carrying the small white kitten when he opened the door 

how childlike 

I should get matching pjs for Wenjun too 

with a knowing smirk, he mentioned that Zhengting was in his room 

in return, you filled him in on the new video game that Wenjun bought 

and then let him into your apartment to bug Wenjun 

hehe 

family goals 

you ventured further into the flat, a tad bit more familiar with your surroundings 

Zhengting must be playing with his puppy as excited barks were coming from the inside 

you rapped your knuckles on the door then entered 

bc you’re a cultured person who knocks the door before entering! 

you learnt you to knock after walking in on many...unpleasant things 

such as wang ziyi and cai xukun proclaiming their eternal love 

then catching xukun on a date with zhang yixing a few days later 

not the kind of things you want to recall 

as you expected, Zhengting is on his bed, playing with his puppy 

oh wow can I just say 

bedhead ZZT with his shirt sliding off one shoulder to reveal a defined collarbone 

his grey sweatpants have loosened around the waist to reveal his Calvins and the very tip of his waist tattoo peeking out 

wow 

so sexy 

but no, in reality, he’s just cradling his puppy and cooing sweet nothings into his ear 

‘what’s his name?’ the puppy pads over to greet you, flicking his small tongue over your hands 

‘Justin and I decided to name him Ry, taken from the end of Jeffery,’ Zhengting replies while casually fixing his top 

...as in Jeffery from school? 

oh goodness, of course, these boys had connections 

they must be popular 

even though ZZT never attends class???

what sorcery 

an awkward silence passes 

you both communicate without opening your mouths 

eventually, you’re seated on the floor of ZZT’s dance studio, cuddling Ry - not exactly paying attention to his dance 

honestly, I think Zhengting’s focus is unbreakable 

but when it breaks...it shatters 

you go from trying to explain that his left arm needs to be at the same height as his right arm 

to ‘oh my god I really like your new phone case.’ 

and then he’ll pick up the conversation from ‘thanks my phone case is from bare bears official.’ 

he loves being cute deep down and we all know it shh 

then it goes back to ‘one two...three...stop! pose. Wow, you’re a great choreographer.’ 

not even dance counts ^ 

blame Professor Wang for influencing my class with dance 

I’ve been dragged to deep down 

eventually, the night wears on and the two of you simply sprawl out on the dance floor 

tired 

Ry cheers you up by licking your face though, cutie 

you’re curious to find out more about zhengting, now seems like the perfect opportunity to pose questions 

‘what other animals would you want as a pet?’ Though, you can’t picture Ry and the kitten having TOO many friends yet.

you watch as Zhengting pouts, thinking hard 

‘maybe a pet piglet. My friend, Mubo has one and I played with it once at his place. It was so adorable that all my friends were in love with it.’ Zhengting laughs fondly at the memory. 

‘my mother would kill me though,’ he adds quickly

idk man we could like share a pet so we both gain from it and become piglet parents 

wh00ps did I say that out loud? Why is he giggling at me? 

‘yes, yes you did,’ Zhengting speaks between his chuckles. ‘I already am a Zhu so might as well be a piglet parent.’ 

朱 (last name) and 猪 (pig) are both ‘zhu’ 

jokingly, you say, ‘I’ll choreograph a celebratory dance if you take up my offer.’ 

that’s when Zhengting gets all excited and seriously considers buying a pig 

one hour passes just researching on pigs

how to care for one 

what to feed it 

where to buy one 

is it legal 

how much does one piglet cost

not that the cost affects his decision ^ 

‘let’s do it,’ Zhengting decides surely, the determination in his tone. ‘Let’s be piglet parents.’ 

‘you’re kidding...’ your voice trails off when you see he is COMPLETELY on board with the idea 

what :) have :)) I :))) done :))) 

I CAN’T BE A PARENT TO EARLY ON 

yet I really like the idea of Zhengting as a pet dad 

with me

it’ll be a small family 

‘we’ll work out the custody issues later,’ he jests. ‘Are you ready to sign some adoption papers? I found a reputable place.’ 

there’s this look of certainty and assurance in his eyes that only read ‘with me, everything’s going to be fine.’ 

maybe that was when you realised you were SO ready to admit you wanted to be with him

maybe confession could come later but for now

piglet parenting? 

hell yeah 

‘I’m in on it.’ 

I’m so glad you moved in next door 

I’m so happy Justin chose the right apartment complex

worked on this for one whole week oh my god and this lowkey became crack 

rlly wanted to get this up for his birthday!!!

so happiest 22nd/23rd to the gorgeous Zhu Zhengting!!

can’t believe he’s joining the old men club on Idol Producer I’m so proud :)

I fell for him on Pd 101 but unfortunately, his incredible talents weren’t recognised

he and Justin were my Chinese kings and now they’ve both come back to claim their kingdoms

Zhengting is just so talented, hardworking, kind-hearted and humorous

I love

tbh idk what lies ahead for his future bc YH’s plans look a bit scattered for the SKR and CH side

but whatever happens, I only wish the best for him and I hope that he would achieve his dream

literally, I would marry this man if the age gap wasn’t so big and if we shared the same religion

God bless him and his household, they deserve love and grace too

@ zhu family, thanks for raising such a wonderful man

朱正廷，祝您生日快乐！我希望正廷哥哥会得到耶稣的祝福，会继续努力也会好好照顾自己的身体。我希望有一天我们可以见面。加油吧！我一定会支持您。我爱您。💝💞💘

pls don’t bash me for my errors, my ancestors are disappointed enough already :”)

[alexduecode]

What Is Technical Debt?

There are many ways to define technical debt, but to put it into simple words, it's the interest you have to pay when you choose the effortless short-ranged development choice instead of the challenging and elaborate one. Typically, this debt arises from using code that works perfectly fine for a short period of time but causes trouble in the long run. These kinds of quick and easy decisions lead to the cost of reworking the code in your program, leading to technical debt.

Causes Of Technical Debt

There are various reasons you can fall into the spiral of technical debt, the most common one amongst them being the lack of attention to long-term planning. Developers pay more attention to getting the software on the market rather than its long-term wearability. Often, creators can make the simple mistake of overseeing a harmful code which then results in technical issues. Similar to this, a faulty code or an easier one can also cause run time errors later. These practices later pile up in the form of technical debt, which not only deteriorates the quality of the product but can also cause delays in its delivery.

Why Is Technical Debt Bad?

Although technical debt works pretty well for some time, it causes trouble both to the software and the developer if not paid off within due time. Even if you do put up your software on the market, by having technical debt, the developer may be unable to keep the system up to date and may start getting complaints about its faulty nature. If this problem is not paid attention to at the right time, then the software may get signals of system failure. Moreover, the developer will have to spend more time solving this problem rather than working on updates.

This also causes a lot of issues in the team that is working on the software as well as the software itself because you have to make sure that the old interface and the new updated interfaces work together seamlessly. Even the slightest mistake may affect the workability of the software. Technical debt might seem like an easy solution in the initial developmental stages of a software, but it is very troublesome to both the creators and the clients after a short while.

[sukajunin]

Why an unexpected police encounter was a life lesson I didn’t know I needed

Two years ago, my boyfriend and I got into a fender bender in Jakarta. A white van nudged into the back of my boyfriend’s car in traffic that was moving at 10km/hour. Albeit a small bump, it left an obvious dent in the small hatchback. And albeit their fault, we agreed to stop roadside to talk.

What we were greeted with was far from a civilised exchange of details. The driver got out and immediately accused us for causing the accident. I can’t say I’m an extremely experienced driver, with only around 6 years of driving experience, but if the damage was at the back of the car, you can assume it’s usually the other person’s fault for driving into it (unless of course you braked suddenly).

Given the enraged state the driver was in, it seemed like a safe idea to stay in the car and attempt to talk things through calmly through the window. Instead, the two other passengers in the van got out and pressed us to exit the car, saying “it’s rude not to” given that they’re “older” than us.

For context, age is a form of hierarchy in Indonesia. Respect must be given to those older than you. Unfortunately for my boyfriend and I, we didn’t see how age and respect correlated with what was obviously a wrongdoing on their part, which led us into a very strange and completely wrong situation.

Because we were younger and helplessly blamed into causing the accident, we had to give them money. With no cash on us, we drove to the nearest ATM, with the white van in tow and gave them some notes. They drove away with smiles on their faces reassuring us that we did the right thing.

Even at that moment we knew it wasn’t supposed to end that way. We didn’t do anything wrong but we felt like we were the victims. For even more context, roadside scams such as these, are commonplace in traffic-plagued Jakarta. If it was so common, why didn’t we expect it?

After venting my frustrations with others, I came to the conclusion that there was really one thing I could’ve said that would have worked out for our benefit: to tell the thugs to talk this over at the police station, which was literally — hear me out — 50 metres down the road from the incident.

Another bite-sized piece of context: police in Jakarta are your last resort for anything. Mostly due to the fact that most of them are corrupt and will happily take some crispy notes to make your problem go away. They won’t pursue your complaint if it isn’t worth their time.

This was probably why neither of us even thought about using the police as an impartial third party who could have sided with us. Although the chances of them helping us may be nil, the very mention of police would have made the van hoodlums back off.

So when my boyfriend and I got stopped by police in Sydney’s central several days ago, shocked doesn’t even begin to describe what we felt.

We were making our way to Central Station after an Asian grocery run in Haymarket, until a police officer stopped us. He came to tell us that a theft crime occurred nearby more than two weeks ago. With the most barest of details, he mentioned he had CCTV footage of my partner where the crime took place.

Not CCTV footage of “a suspect matching your description”. But “we have CCTV footage of you”.

After telling us what this means and asking whether we understood, I hesitated because I didn’t understand how they had footage of my partner allegedly stealing some mail because I know he didn’t.

Despite my confusion, I said I understood because of the hurried pressure arising from his voice. He told us that he’s going to give us a chance to “be honest” and “own up to it”. As he said this, four more officers came, encircling us in the middle of the footpath. The next thing I knew, I was being frisked at the entrance of a nearby apartment block and being questioned whether I was carrying anything that didn’t belong to me.

One of the constables inspected our grocery shopping, taking out the packet of chillies and loose lemons, tomatoes, and putting them on the ground. As they turned our belongings inside out for the world to see, all I could focus on were passersby gawking at us. Residents of the apartment block were hesitating to enter and exit the lobby, unsure of what was happening.

Initially scared and confused, a wave of embarrassment took its place now. After some light questioning (“Where you headed now?, “Do you live around here?”) and a few iPhone photo shots, they asked whether I’ve ever had any interaction with the police, to which I could assuringly — and gratefully — say no.

I realise that having never been confronted by cops is something of a privilege, whether it’s because of where I live or how I look. Whatever this was, it’s something I thought I would never experience. Whatever this was, I didn’t expect and I was deeply unprepared for. When you grew up thinking the police are more of a joke than respected individuals, knowing how to deal with them would not be worth “the talk” with your parents.

Though when I moved to Sydney, I knew that the police here are proper and they do their jobs. Even still, I never thought about how to deal with them. I see it in movies all the time anyway— when the protagonist is called in for questioning and seems to be doing a fine job in talking to the police. There’s no reason why your mind shouldn’t be as clear as this, especially when you’re not guilty.

But this was real life and no amount of cop shows could prepare me. It was hard to keep composure even when I didn’t do anything wrong. When it happened, I didn’t have time to think about channeling my inner suave Frank Abagnale Jr. (although an innocent one at that). I just wanted to say as little as possible and leave.

Once I was done being searched and examined, the first constable was still questioning my partner. Standing a metre and a half away, the only parts I could hear was when the constable raised his voice to fish information out from my partner.

“We want to hear your side of the story…”

“Are you being honest with me?”

“We wouldn’t just stop you for no reason…”

All as if to say he was so sure my partner was the culprit.

They let us go after what felt like an hour, when only 20 minutes may have passed. We walked away feeling confused, embarrassed, and somewhat intruded. All I could do was relive the fender bender two years ago, in which I had the exact same feelings. I replayed the event in my head and felt disappointed in myself for not being able to take more control of a bad situation, yet again.

I thought about how I didn’t exercise my rights enough. I was unsure about why they suspected us. Why didn’t I ask how they saw my partner on camera? Why didn’t I ask why they phrased the questions as if they knew we were guilty? Wrongly enough, my notion of thinking that cops here are authority figures that you should (loosely put) obey, restrained me into a “don’t ask questions or you’ll make it worse” position.

But of course after a cider-induced debrief I know that’s all bullshit. Only in hindsight was I able to be absolutely sure that the type of words and questions used were designed to coerce. I’m no expert but if my true crime documentary binges taught me anything, it was so that my partner was forced to confess to something he didn’t do.

Walking away from it and trying to get on with our day, he was reiterating his ‘alibi’ to me even though I was with him having coffee uptown and that he simply didn’t do it. It’s amazing how little it takes for subtle phrasing to lead to false confessions…

In their defence, they were doing their jobs. But I think they tend to forget that there are people who have never dealt with them before and that a confrontation like this can scare anyone — even though they’re innocent — into coercion. Whether it’s intentional or not, whether they’re just used to the process and don’t realise what it does to people, it’s a tactic that evidently works.

Apart from realising that Sydney police have a very questionable method of ‘interrogating’, I guess my point to all of this is knowing that, as much as you want to, it’s impossible to rewind a terrible moment in time to correct it. And that to use your constant ‘head replays’ to better yourself instead of kicking yourself down.

I wish I had threatened the car-bumping hoodlums to come with us to the police station. I wish I had asked the constable to slow down when he reading out our rights (saying the sentence louder again and asking if we spoke English doesn’t count) because it was within my rights to let him know that this was my first police encounter, so please take the time to explain it better.

I also wish that I had educated myself in knowing how to deal in certain situations, to know what to say and how to act. Of course, why should I need to know the details in how to navigate a situation with police? Because why should you when you have no intention to steal someone’s parcel from a mailbox, like, ever? But sometimes, shit happens.

As someone who is learning to think quicker on her feet, it was hard not to lose the grip of control of both situations. To be honest, you’ll find yourself stuck in these situations and will always feel like you could’ve done better. But I’m not so confident that I could, and the only way is to learn.

Being able to walk away from a situation knowing full well I’ve exhausted all my options — and no could’ve, should’ve, would’ves — is when I know my experiences have taught me well enough. Admittedly that will take some time, but I can only learn from experience rather than how-to guides and textbooks. And that is all I want to take away from this: to prepare and better myself for the next equally terrible event. Because life will keep occasionally throwing us lemons, right?