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solar-wing · 8 months ago

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⚣ Puppy Love: Sweet and Romantic, but also somehow Murderous ❤️‍🔥

⚣❤️‍🔥 A/N → something I started writing while finishing up Shadowing Nightwing. Is this what I imagine my relationship to be like with Jason on a regular basis...absolutely. Absolutely. Am I somewhat delusional and living in a fantasy world? Also, absolutely, but also, mind your fucking business. anyways...! This was inspired from multiple posts and authors, who I have tagged and hyperlinked. @allllium @maj-b-s Thank you for feeding my obsession—ahem—my therapist will be sending you a bill. tee hee... WARNINGS: 18 + MDNI | College Male Reader | Fluff & Humor | Minor Violence (Implied) | Swearing/Crude Language | Smut | Breathplay | Possessiveness/Jealousy | Everyone wants Y/N's man |

⚣❤️‍🔥 Summary → Meet Jason and Y/N: Gotham’s answer to the ultimate “relationship goals”—if your relationship goals involve an overly protective vigilante with a slight obsession for tearing apart his boyfriend’s scandalous wardrobe (and sometimes his coworkers). Their love story? Equal parts intense, adorable, and absolutely chaotic. Jason’s the growling, brooding protector who’d burn the world for Y/N, while Y/N is the sunshine with just enough sass to keep him in check… well, sometimes.

⚣❤️‍🔥 Word Count → 14.5K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ❤️‍🔥

If you asked anyone, they might hesitate to admit it outright, but the truth was hard to ignore: people envied Jason and Y/N’s relationship—and who could blame them? From the day those two started dating, they’d been like high-school sweethearts stuck in the honeymoon phase, but with ten times the intensity and none of the restraint. Not to sound bitter or envious—it was just a fact.

They were a painfully adorable couple. Jason was the doting, protective lover, almost to a fault. Sure, it’s a bit of a cliché, but he didn’t exactly help himself with the stark difference in how he treated others versus Y/N. Around everyone else, Jason looked permanently grouchy, as though every conversation he endured was a test of patience he barely passed. His eye-rolls, heavy sighs, and palpable disinterest didn’t go unnoticed; in fact, he made it pretty clear he couldn’t wait to walk away from anyone who wasn’t Y/N.

But the moment Y/N entered the room? Suddenly, Jason had nothing more important in the world. It was almost comical to watch this towering vigilante hang onto every word Y/N said like an overly attached puppy. Actually, that was the perfect way to describe their dynamic: Jason was a huge, lethal teddy bear with a soft spot, and Y/N was the unassuming boyfriend who had no clue how much sway he held over this giant who’d kill for him without hesitation.

Honestly, the best way to describe Y/N was as Jason’s polar opposite. He was social—well, social enough—and that sometimes got on his boyfriend’s nerves, who would’ve preferred to keep Y/N all to himself. It was partly jealousy, partly a possessive urge to monopolize his lover’s attention, but mostly it was Jason’s instinct to shield him from a world that had never been kind to the vigilante. Jason had been hardened by a lifetime of darkness, and he’d go to ridiculous lengths to keep Y/N’s light from dimming.

Not that Jason’s methods were exactly…practical.

“Jason, I get that you want to protect me, but you can’t shield me from everything,” Y/N said, finally sitting his boyfriend down for a much-needed conversation after yet another of Jason’s over-the-top protective stunts. “The only way you could do that would be to wrap me in bubble wrap and lock me away in a cave or something.”

“Trust me, I’ve considered it,” Jason muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Y/N blinked, raising a brow.

“Nothing.”

Despite Y/N’s more social nature, he was everything Jason felt he was missing in life. He was the humor, the hope, the optimism Jason rarely allowed himself. And sure, his optimism came with a sprinkle of sarcasm when he was annoyed, but Jason loved that too. In fact, he was so taken by Y/N that it was nearly an obsession—though, to be fair, obsession was kind of expected from someone like him.

Would a therapist call it codependency or maybe some kind of unhealthy dynamic? Probably. But good luck telling Jason that. He’d likely see it as a personal attack—and let’s just say that if you value your life, you might want to avoid bringing it up. You’ve been warned.

But back to the point: Y/N and Jason’s relationship quickly became the kind that made even Y/N’s friends—most of whom were floundering in the love department—wonder just how he’d managed to snag such a devoted and caring guy. It especially made Jason feel appreciated, loved, and genuinely important to someone the way Y/N would never miss a chance to gush about his vigilante boyfriend to anyone willing to listen, and though he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly loved every second of it.

Though, do exercise a bit (lot) of caution, because once the topic turns to Jason, everyone’s in for a long haul—Y/N could and would talk anyone’s ear off that was willing to listen about how amazing his boyfriend is. Just as Jason was obsessed with Y/N, Y/N was equally smitten with Jason, and honestly? Jason wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Alright, Y/N, spill it! I need every detail about how you landed this guy. Don’t hold out on me—give me the exact prayer, word-for-word, quickly!”

“I—uh—well, I—”

“Come on, Y/N! My pen is drying up, and I’m not getting any younger!” His friend slapped a notepad and pen down in front of him, staring him down like he was about to write out a love spell straight from a witch’s spellbook.

“Girl, I don’t even know. The guy just kinda showed up in my life one day and never left,” Y/N shrugged, half-joking, though it was pretty much the truth.

It had all been by chance—well, kind of. If you could call Jason keeping an eye on Y/N “chance.” In reality, he’d been sort of… lurking, for good reasons (or at least reasons he’d justified to himself). It started one night when Y/N was finishing up his work-study shift at Gotham University. Now, calling an Uber would’ve been the smart, safe choice, especially in a city like Gotham. But he lived just 15 minutes away, and spending money on a five-minute ride? Please. He had a budget to consider.

That was before he found himself cornered in a dark alley by three oversized thugs who smelled like the embodiment of an ashtray mixed with cheap beer, a scent so thick it made his eyes water. The kind of men Gotham bred like weeds—rough, desperate, dangerous. Y/N barely had time to process the situation before one of them shoved him against a cold, brick wall, a knife pressing against his throat. His backpack was snatched and dumped unceremoniously onto the wet alley floor, its contents spilling out for their inspection.

His mind raced, paralyzed with fear and regret. He could practically hear his parents' voices reminding him to be cautious, to make smart choices, to avoid walking alone at night in places like this. Irony stung almost as much as the cold steel against his neck—the “responsible” choice would have been to spend that $15 on an Uber, not gamble his safety for a free walk.

And was the money he’d save really worth risking his life for? Probably not. But hey, that was Gotham for you—always teaching life lessons the hard way. He braced himself, feeling the icy dread of not knowing if he’d make it out alive. Stories like these didn’t usually end well on the news in this city.

But fate, or something like it, had other plans.

Out of nowhere, a low, gravelly voice sliced through the night. “I’d drop the knife if I were you.”

Y/N didn’t dare turn his head, but he felt the tension shift as the thugs looked up, startled. Standing at the mouth of the alley was a figure who seemed to materialize from the shadows—a tall, broad man clad in black and deep red, with a sleeveless hoodie that revealed muscular arms wrapped in red bandages. A mask and hood concealed majority of his face, glowing red eyes staring down the thugs with an intensity that froze them in place. Strapped across his back were two long katanas, and a utility belt around his waist held holsters that almost certainly contained a pair of guns, adding to his already intimidating presence.

Red Hood.

Y/N had heard of him, of course. Gotham’s resident anti-hero, rumored to have a thing for…creative violence. The vigilante’s imposing size was enough to make anyone feel small; he towered over Y/N, his form carved out of muscle and something darker, something hardened. Even the thugs looked ready to wet themselves, and Y/N could feel the goosebumps rise on his skin as he finally dared to look up.

In less time than it took him to blink, Red Hood had closed the distance, dispatching the thugs with an efficiency that would’ve been impressive if it weren’t so, well, terrifying. Knives clattered to the ground, grunts and thuds filled the air, and Y/N just stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, half expecting to wake up from a weird stress-induced nightmare.

But this was very real, as proven when Red Hood finally turned to him, and Y/N felt his breath hitch. Up close, the vigilante was even more intimidating—a wall of muscle wrapped in dark red and black, those red eyes glowing with an intensity that made Y/N’s knees wobble. There was no denying it; the guy was terrifying. Yet, for some reason, there was a weird, traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispering, He’s kind of hot, though.

“You alright?” The voice was rough, like gravel scraping across metal, but there was an undertone of concern. Red Hood’s gaze softened just a fraction, almost imperceptible, yet Y/N caught it.

“I—I think so,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes were wide, and he forced himself not to flinch as Red Hood stepped even closer, the hulking vigilante now looming over him. Up close, he could see the muscles tense beneath the suit, the power radiating off him like heat.

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, as if assessing him, and Y/N swore he felt like he was being scanned. Which, honestly, was fair. He was some college kid wearing a sweatshirt that said “Gotham U” in block letters, and this guy looked like he wrestled criminals for fun. But instead of feeling like prey, he felt this strange pull, like something was drawing him toward the vigilante. It was probably just adrenaline… or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Red Hood gave a grunt, a sound that could have meant anything from “good to hear” to “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, punk.” But then he leaned down, his helmet casting an ominous shadow over Y/N’s face. “Next time, take the Uber.”

Y/N blinked, the absurdity of the situation hitting him all at once. “Noted,” he replied, deadpan, because honestly, what else could he say?

He should have been scared—terrified, even. But instead, he found himself lingering on every detail: the way Red Hood’s chest rose and fell, the glint of his weapons, the sense of barely restrained danger that rolled off him in waves. And underneath all of that, a strange, quiet thrill that he didn’t quite understand.

Satisfied, Red Hood gave him one last look before he started to turn away, blending back into the shadows. But in a flash of impulsiveness, Y/N called out, “Wait!”

Red Hood stopped, glancing over his shoulder, clearly not used to random civilians asking for an encore. Y/N hesitated, realizing how ridiculous he must have sounded, but the words were already out there, so he figured he might as well keep going.

“Uh… thanks. For, you know, saving me. And also for the life advice,” he added, his voice dripping with awkward humor.

There was a pause—a long, silent pause where Y/N briefly wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. But then, to his surprise, he thought he saw the faintest tilt of amusement in the way Red Hood shifted his stance. Was that… a chuckle? No, probably not. But he’d like to think so.

Red Hood nodded—a subtle acknowledgment—before disappearing into the night, leaving Y/N alone in the alley with nothing but his scattered belongings and a heart that felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. As he knelt down to gather his things, he couldn’t help but survey the carnage of his soggy notebooks and papers, along with his now-broken laptop and tangled, half-shattered headphones.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he picked up a notebook that was more mush than paper. “Well, this is fine,” he muttered, trying to keep his spirits up. “Just a little water damage. Adds character, right?”

Then he spotted his laptop, the screen shattered and a piece of it barely hanging on by a hinge. He laughed, a bitter chuckle that held more disbelief than humor. “Guess it’s one way to force an upgrade,” he murmured, stuffing it back in his backpack like a defeated soldier gathering his gear after a lost battle.

And the headphones? Well, they’d been cheap anyway, held together by more wishful thinking than actual quality. “You were too good for this world,” he whispered dramatically, dropping them into the bag with a resigned sigh.

Despite the state of his belongings, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just survived something surreal, something that would haunt his dreams and maybe even—dare he say it?—excite him a little.

Unbeknownst to him, from the shadows a few blocks away, Jason eyed him from his hiding spot, a curiosity nagging at him, as if he’d found something worth watching over. He could see Y/N still crouched on the grimy ground, gathering his belongings—soggy notebooks, torn papers, a laptop with a shattered screen. He’d felt a pang of guilt as he watched, a flicker of sympathy mingling with a less-than-pleasant feeling of familiarity knowing all too well what it was like to lose the few things you relied on—to feel like the world had kicked you when you were down.

And while he’d never admit it, maybe a part of him liked that the kid seemed more amused than scared. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone didn’t scream when they saw Red Hood.

Of course, now that they were dating, Y/N was not surprised by the vigilante’s actions after their encounter when he’d come out of his apartment a week later to find a large box sitting on his doorstep with a plain label reading simply, “For You.”

Inside was an assortment of brand-new school supplies including pristine notebooks in varying colors, a handful of smooth, high-quality pens and highlighters, and even a sleek, expensive laptop that he definitely could not afford on a student budget. Nestled beside it was a pair of high-quality Bluetooth headphones—the kind he’d ogled online but never dreamed of buying. And to top it all off, there was a sturdy, stylish bag to carry everything in.

And while most other people would’ve been slightly concerned at the fact that a random vigilante just happened to know their address after only one meeting where they didn’t even give their name, Y/N on the other hand, was processing the contents of the box with a mix of gratitude, amusement, and a new crush.

And so, their love story began, marked by Jason’s continued (and slightly overprotective) habit of rescuing Y/N from Gotham’s mean streets—even if the college student didn’t always realize he needed saving. Hence the “stalking” mentioned earlier.

Of course, was it technically stalking if it was done out of love and devotion for some random stranger you’d developed a massive crush on but couldn’t quite work up the nerve to talk to directly? Well… yes. Experts would say it’s still stalking. But hey, if those experts ever found themselves in a tight spot, Jason would be conveniently “unavailable” to save them.

Naturally, Y/N couldn’t exactly share the full story of his and Jason’s introduction. For one, his friends would roast him to the ends of the earth for being dumb enough to walk home alone in Gotham at night. He could practically hear their voices now: “Really, Y/N? Alone? At night? In Gotham? Do you not value your own life?” And frankly, he wasn’t about to give them that much material.

Oh, and there was also the tiny detail of Red Hood’s whole secret vigilante identity thing.

So, he went with a slightly edited version of the story, painting Jason as a “helpful stranger” who just happened to show up when Y/N “got lost” and had his bag stolen. And when his friends inevitably asked about the shiny new gear—a nearly $500 bag, top-of-the-line laptop, high-quality headphones, the works—he explained it all as a result of some extra scholarship money and financial aid he’d “saved up.” Sure, splurging on luxury tech and accessories might seem a tad unrealistic, but he’d throw in a line about a “really good sale” and call it a day.

Because as much as Jason’s habit of going overboard with gifts could be a little, well, extra, Y/N wasn’t about to complain. The man was thoughtful in a way few would ever believe, though his affection tended to be wrapped in thick layers of leather, weaponry, and a no-nonsense glare.

Jason loved hard, though he wasn’t quick to show it to just anyone. The guy kept his feelings locked up tighter than a Gotham vault, hardened by a lifetime of broken trust and betrayal. He wasn’t exactly the “wear your heart on your sleeve” type. But every so often, with the right person, he’d crack that tough exterior. And Y/N? Somehow, he’d slipped right through, without even trying.

And okay, could Jason be a little intense? Sure (absolutely). But when a vigilante with a borderline obsessive streak decides he cares about you, well… let’s just say things are bound to get a little out of hand. That’s just the price of having Gotham’s resident anti-hero as your personal guard dog.

Not that Y/N thinks of him quite like that, but it’s kind of funny, considering Jason really does act like a lovesick puppy when it’s just the two of them, his tough exterior melting away—it gave the energy of a Golden Retriever, maybe, or a Siberian Husky with an attitude problem. But the moment anyone else entered the room, his whole vibe transformed. If Y/N was his safe haven, the rest of the world was an enemy camp. He’d switch from doting boyfriend to a blend of German Shepherd, Rottweiler, and Doberman with the attitude and aggressiveness of a Chihuahua on an espresso shot. It was a little terrifying for others but to Y/N? It was just… Jason.

Part of what made their dynamic so unique was how Jason let himself be vulnerable around Y/N, something few people ever got to see. Y/N was his safe space, the person he could trust to see the parts of him he usually kept hidden—the softness, the care, the insecurities he guarded as fiercely as he guarded Gotham’s streets.

Funny enough, Y/N quickly discovered just a few months into dating that Jason’s love language was, without a doubt, physical touch. Why was that funny—and possibly the most ironic thing he’d ever experienced? Because when they first started dating, Jason avoided touch like it was the plague.

It took Y/N a while to notice it, but once he did, it was painfully obvious. Jason had this way of keeping just enough distance, as if he’d drawn a line no one was allowed to cross. At first, Y/N thought it was just Jason’s natural intensity, but over time, he began to see the pattern. Jason was hyper-aware of any physical contact—quick to dodge, tense when someone brushed against him accidentally, even flinching at touches he saw coming. It was like he’d trained himself to see any sort of physical contact as a potential threat.

And it made sense, really, considering Jason’s past and the double life he led—something Y/N only found out about a few months after they started dating. Jason’s body told a story all on its own, each scar and faded bruise marking a chapter of battles fought and enemies conquered. The scars weren’t just skin-deep; they were reminders of a life filled with danger, betrayal, and loss. And Y/N began to understand why Jason had always kept his distance, why he seemed wary of even the gentlest touch. To Jason, vulnerability had always come with a price.

Also, talking about his family was a rare event, and when he did, there was a hesitance, a guarded tone. Y/N knew bits and pieces—enough to understand that while Jason loved his family, there were wounds there too, emotional scars that ran just as deep as the ones on his body. He avoided talking about them, save for the occasional mention of Alfred, the family’s butler. Alfred was the exception, the one person Jason spoke of with nothing but respect and a rare softness. In time, Y/N came to love and appreciate Alfred just as much, seeing how deeply he’d cared for Jason when others hadn’t.

But even with Alfred, Jason’s life had taught him that letting people in, letting people close, meant risking pain. So he’d built walls, high and impenetrable, where touch was a luxury and distance was safety. Yet again, somehow, Y/N had slipped through those walls. Slowly, patiently, he’d helped Jason find comfort in a gentle touch, a warm embrace, and the knowledge that here, with him, there was no danger. Just love.

At first, it was subtle—the occasional shoulder touch, the brief brush of his hand, like Jason was testing the waters. But as he grew more comfortable, his affection started to show in quiet, gentle ways: a hand resting at the small of Y/N’s back, an arm draped protectively around his shoulders, or the way he’d pull Y/N close, as if his presence alone could shield him from the world. Sure, his protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing, but Y/N didn’t mind one bit. He’d come to cherish those moments, knowing that each touch, each fierce little act of devotion, was Jason’s own way of saying, I love you.

And before Y/N even realized it, Jason had practically become his shadow, glued to his side like some overly affectionate—albeit slightly brooding—puppy. It was like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, Jason couldn’t go a full five minutes without reaching out to touch him, craving the comfort and reassurance of Y/N’s presence. Jason was always there, one way or another: a hand resting on his neck, fingers tracing along his arm, a warm weight on his thigh, or just… hovering in his orbit like a bodyguard who happened to look at him like he was the best thing in Gotham.

Rarely did a moment pass when they weren’t connected in some physical way. More often than not, Jason would find any excuse to pull Y/N into a full-on cuddle, whether they were on the couch or in bed, as if he was storing up warmth like a battery. And his favorite spot? Laying his head on Y/N’s chest, listening to his heartbeat with his eyes closed, completely at peace as Y/N’s hands ran gently through his hair. For Jason, it was the ultimate comfort, a reminder that he was loved and safe—a rare feeling in his life.

It was endearing, really. Jason might’ve been Gotham’s big bad vigilante, but to Y/N, he was a full-grown man with the energy of a giant, needy puppy, demanding his attention with that silent, intense stare of his. And honestly? Y/N wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, Y/N would be lying if he said he didn’t get a kick out of the way Jason would pout and glare at him whenever he stopped rubbing his head or, heaven forbid, dared to refuse his touch. Imagine this six-foot-plus tower of muscle—a guy who could make dudes on steroids look like scrawny sidekicks—staring down his boyfriend with an actual pout because he wasn’t getting his cuddle fix. It was a sight that never failed to make Y/N laugh (not that he’d do it out loud; he valued his life, after all).

Jason could—and would—throw his ire at just about anyone else, often for the smallest of reasons. Anyone not named Y/N was fair game for his mood swings, his infamous scowl, and even the occasional growl. But with Y/N? Well, let’s just say he was spared from the wrath of Gotham’s most intimidating vigilante… unless he denied Jason cuddles or the sacred privilege of his bodily embrace. That, apparently, was the one line Y/N couldn’t cross.

The “punishment” usually lasted, at most, ten minutes. Jason would start by sulking, grumbling under his breath like a child denied dessert, and shooting Y/N the kind of glare usually reserved for Gotham’s worst criminals. Y/N, of course, would hold out as long as he could, but eventually, one of two things would happen. Either he’d cave, sighing as he finally opened his arms to let Jason claim his cuddle rights, listening as Jason mumbled dramatically about how he “should never be denied cuddles” because it was his god-given right, or—if Y/N took too long—Jason would take matters into his own hands.

And by that, it meant Jason would simply scoop him up, plop himself down, and drape his entire, solid weight on top of Y/N like some overgrown cat claiming it's human. There was no escape—Jason’s big arms wrapped around him like an anaconda, pulling him close until Y/N was completely enveloped, pinned down with zero chance of getting away.

Y/N didn’t mind, though. Quite the opposite, actually—it was hot. Sue him.

"Y/N, don’t take this the wrong way but… is your man single?” one of his coworkers asked, giving him a sly grin.

OOP—

GIRL. For your own sake—and for the sake of anyone within a mile radius—tread carefully. That man is as jealous and territorial as his possessive ass vigilante boyfriend, who’s on a level that’s practically legendary. No, seriously; Jason’s jealousy was on a scale that was insane.

Case in point: family game night. Tim had everyone playing this game where you had to come up with a word for each category starting with a randomly chosen letter. Simple enough, right? Well, when “J” was the letter of the round, let’s just say Y/N’s answers weren’t exactly… satisfying to a certain overprotective vigilante.

“Y/N,” Jason hissed, narrowing his eyes, “you’ve got two seconds to explain to me who the hell Jackson is.”

“I had to think of something!” Y/N replied, holding up his hands defensively.

Jason crossed his arms, staring him down. “And what does my name start with, hmm?”

“I—okay, listen, I panicked! I was thinking about Percy Jackson!”

Jason didn’t see it as jealousy—he was just protective, okay? But if his definition of protective happened to mean glaring down anyone who so much as glanced at Y/N, then so be it.

Y/N on the other hand…

Funny enough, Jason actually started complaining because every time he and Y/N went out together, people would give him looks, like they thought Y/N was in mortal danger. And okay, Jason got it—he wasn’t exactly small, or subtle. With his build, his perpetual scowl, and the way he seemed ready to throw down at any given moment, he could understand slightly why people would think the way they’d think. Shit, he’d do the same. But still.

When it got to the point of the cops getting called because the neighbors heard loud noises, grunts, and what they thought were sounds of pain and struggle after seeing a large and intimidating man drag Y/N into his apartment—when, in reality, they were just doing the dirty tango against the kitchen wall—it gets a bit annoying.

But that wasn’t even the real issue Jason had been complaining about. No, what had actually gotten under his skin was how everyone always assumed he was the threat, when in reality, it was Y/N they should’ve been worried about. People just didn’t see it, but Y/N had a dangerous side all his own. Just ask the kid who was dumb enough to try and pull a fast one on Jason by touching and caressing him in public when Y/N had stepped away for a moment.

The moment the college student came back… well, let’s just say things got ugly. Legally, however, Jason couldn’t speak about it. Not because he didn’t want to—oh, he’d love to relive the whole glorious scene—but because Y/N had made him, and his brothers, sign an NDA afterward. Yep, Dick, Tim, Damian, and Jason had to put pen to paper, bound to secrecy about The Incident.

Y/N had handled it with a level of ruthless efficiency that left the whole Bat family in awe. He’d dealt with that poor, clueless kid in a way that was so subtly devastating that even Bruce raised an eyebrow when he found out. Although, truth be told, Bruce wasn’t exactly shocked; he just hadn’t expected someone as sweet as Y/N to be quite so… resourceful.

After that, the whole family understood that, sure, Jason might look like the scary one—but when it came to those he loved, especially when it involved Jason, Y/N was a force to be reckoned with.

Y/N glanced back at his coworker with a slightly distant look before letting out a laugh, shaking his head. “Girl, don’t play.”

Girl—seriously, don’t do it.

Thankfully, she chose common sense and life at that moment, laughing along with him. “You know I’m just kidding! But seriously, where did you find him? The things I’d do just to get a man who looks at me with even half the love as he does with you.”

It was in Y/N’s honest opinion that Jason had to be an angel or some divine gift sent to him from the heavens above. Or God, the Universe, Santa Claus, took mercy on him knowing that kind of unserious trouble he could get himself into. Seriously, it was like his life was written by some dude who strove to put him in the most unthinkable scenarios ever thought of by man.

…

Hold up.

…

Nah…unless?

“But seriously, where do you even find a man like that? ‘Cause the ones out here? Girl, they’re giving ‘bare minimum’ and vibes. God really needs to start restocking the good ones.”

“Where did I find him?” Y/N repeated, smirking as he wiped down the counter. “I don’t know. One day he just showed up, brooding and scary-looking, and now he refuses to leave.”

His coworker rolled her eyes, leaning closer like she was trying to decode some deep secret. “You’re dodging the question. Men like that don’t just show up. Spill the tea.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. “Honestly? If I told you the real story, you wouldn’t believe me.”

And wasn’t that the truth? If he started explaining how Gotham’s most terrifying vigilante had saved him from a mugging, delivered new school supplies like some twisted fairy godmother, and then proceeded to burrow into his life like an oversized, territorial puppy, she’d probably think he was delusional. Or worse, that he was into some bizarre fanfiction-level nonsense. Which, fair.

Before Y/N could add anything else, his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and couldn’t stop the small smile that crept across his face.

Jason: Did you eat yet?

Y/N sighed, typing back a quick Yes, Dad, even though it was a blatant lie. He didn’t need Jason going full hover-boyfriend just because he skipped breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, though, Jason strolled into the shop like he owned the place, a brown paper bag in hand. Y/N barely had time to react before Jason plopped the bag on the counter, his expression hovering between annoyed and smug.

“Didn’t I just tell you I ate?” Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jason crossed his arms, his biceps straining his jacket in a way that made his coworker openly gape. “And I didn’t believe you. So here.” He gestured at the bag like it was some great offering, clearly unbothered by the audience they had. “You’re not skipping meals.”

Y/N sighed, opening the bag to find his favorite sandwich neatly packed alongside a container of fruit and—of course—a bottle of water. His coworker, meanwhile, was staring like she was witnessing a rom-com play out in real life.

“You know,” she whispered as Jason stepped back to lean casually against the counter, his watchful gaze flicking between Y/N and the shop’s door, “if you don’t marry this man, I will.”

Y/N snorted, shoving a grape in his mouth. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

In all honesty, Y/N knew the kind of love Jason offered wasn’t for the faint of heart. As previously mentioned, when that man loved, he loved hard—like all-in, no-holds-barred, borderline territorial levels of hard. And he wasn’t just protective—oh no, he was possessive with a capital P when it came to the things he cared about.

What did that mean?

Well...

Considering the kind of life Jason had lived—where the things he loved or that brought him joy were often ripped away in the most brutal, gut-wrenching ways imaginable—it wasn’t exactly a shocker. Jason had become fiercely devoted to guarding what was his, with a vigilance that often toed the line between endearing and slightly terrifying.

It was like an aggressive dog who decided one day that a random shoe was its favorite thing in the world. The kind of resource-guarding where even looking at the shoe too long earned you a deep, guttural growl of warning. Ignore the warning? Well, congratulations, you just donated a finger—or maybe two—to the cause.

If it’s not clear by now, Y/N was the shoe, and Jason was the dog. And when it came to Y/N, anything—or anyone—that so much as hinted at upsetting him, threatening him, or even mildly inconveniencing him would quickly find themselves on the wrong end of Jason’s wrath. It wasn’t a matter of if there’d be hell to pay, but how much. Spoiler: it was always a lot.

So, picture this: Y/N comes home after a long day of morning classes and an equally draining evening shift. On the surface, he looks fine. Totally normal. But what no one knows is that he spent the last twenty minutes sitting in his car, quietly sobbing into a handful of fast-food napkins.

He knew better than to bring those emotions into the apartment, though. Because while most boyfriends would give you a hug and let you vent, Jason would go full vigilante mode. If he even sensed that someone had made Y/N upset, it wouldn’t just be hell to pay—it’d be Gotham-wide carnage. And Y/N, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, liked to minimize unnecessary casualties.

Armed with tissues, eyedrops, and a firm I’m fine, just tired mantra, Y/N stepped through the door, hoping to slide under Jason’s radar.

Nope. Not happening.

The moment Jason saw him, his expression shifted. Y/N had no clue what gave him away—was it the puffiness? His voice? The way he stood?—but Jason immediately clocked something.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked, his voice calm, but laced with that dangerous edge that said he was already running through a mental list of suspects who might need a "visit."

Y/N froze, debating his options. He knew better than to lie. Jason would sniff it out in seconds. But he also knew that the moment he opened his mouth, Jason wouldn’t rest until he figured out who—or what—was responsible.

And honestly? That was the kind of energy Y/N both feared and loved about him.

“I just had a stressful day at work, Jason. I’ll be fine,” Y/N said, sidestepping as he tried to make his way past the towering vigilante and towards the bathroom.

But trying to get past Jason when he was in that mode? Easier said than done. It was like trying to walk through a solid brick wall—one that was armed, brooding, and ridiculously muscled. Jason was locked into full protective-boyfriend mode, which meant Y/N wasn’t going anywhere until Jason had the name, address, and probably the social security number of the person who dared to upset him.

Why he needed the social security number? Well, Bruce did teach him to be thorough when handling "cases." And in Jason’s mind, this was no different.

In one smooth move, Jason’s arm shot out, stopping Y/N’s attempt to breeze past him. With two quick steps, Y/N found himself backed against the wall—well, Jason’s chest first, and then the wall behind him. Jason leaned in, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible, his dark, piercing gaze locking onto Y/N’s like a laser. That intense look he gave—the one that said I have no problem keeping you right here until I get answers—made Y/N’s knees weak.

Not that he minded. Let’s be real: Jason’s body, his sheer presence, had always been Y/N’s favorite place to decompress, even if it came with the added pressure of being metaphorically (and sometimes literally) pinned to the hot seat. And honestly? Who could complain about being wrapped up in the arms of a man like Jason. If you wouldn’t feel the same, take your judgment elsewhere.

Jason tilted his head, his voice low and commanding as he leaned in closer. “Talk to me, baby. What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N muttered, looking away, though his traitorous heart betrayed him by picking up speed. He could feel Jason’s gaze on him, heavy and unwavering. “Just a bad day.”

“That’s not nothing,” Jason replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His arm caged Y/N in further, his body so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating off him. “Bad days don’t make you cry in your car before coming home.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. Damn it. How does he always know?

Jason leaned even closer, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he whispered, “I’ll ask again. Who made you cry?”

That commanding tone, combined with Jason’s overwhelming presence, had Y/N’s walls crumbling faster than he’d like to admit. “Jason, it’s nothing you need to get involved in. It’s my boss—he’s just been... making things harder than they need to be,” he said, his voice faltering as he tried to downplay the situation.

Jason’s jaw ticked, and his free hand gently cupped Y/N’s chin, tilting his head back so their eyes met. “Details. Now.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before the frustration, hurt, and exhaustion bubbled over. “He’s cutting my hours—again. And I need those hours, Jason. For rent, for groceries, for school. I’ve tried talking to him, emailing HR, even bringing in a neutral third party, but nothing changes. And today…” He swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “Today, he reduced my schedule to the point where I’ll barely be able to afford ramen next week. And then he called me into his office to give me some bullshit ‘coaching moment’ that was really just him tearing me down in front of everyone.”

Jason’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as Y/N’s words sank in. “What did he say?” His tone was dangerously calm, the kind of calm that meant bad things were about to happen to someone.

Y/N shook his head, his voice breaking as he tried to get the words out. “I—I don’t want to repeat it. It was nasty, Jason. Just nasty.”

Jason’s grip softened immediately, his hand moving to the back of Y/N’s neck as he pulled him into his chest. “Baby, come here,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. Y/N didn’t resist, letting himself melt into Jason’s arms as the tears he’d been holding back all day finally spilled over.

Jason held him tightly, his strong arms a fortress of safety and comfort as he whispered, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it out.”

They stayed like that for a while, Jason eventually guiding Y/N to the couch so they could sit down. He pulled Y/N into his lap, holding him as if to shield him from the world. Y/N buried his face in Jason’s chest, the warmth and strength of his boyfriend grounding him as Jason’s hand gently stroked his back.

After a while, Y/N’s voice broke the silence. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash, Jason. Please.”

Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “I promise.”

The next day, Y/N found himself questioning that promise when Jason showed up at his workplace. The vigilante didn’t cause a scene—he didn’t need to. A quiet, private “conversation” with Y/N’s manager in the backroom was all it took. Whatever Jason said, it worked. By the time he left, Y/N’s hours had mysteriously been restored, and his manager couldn’t look him in the eye without stammering.

When Y/N confronted him later, Jason just smirked, pulling him into a kiss. “I didn’t do anything rash,” he said innocently. “I just... clarified some things.”

And honestly? Y/N didn’t even want to know what “clarified” meant.

It was that incident—the one where Jason paid a visit to Y/N’s workplace—when Y/N’s coworkers finally met the infamous boyfriend they’d only ever heard about in passing. Well, passing might’ve been an understatement, considering Y/N used any and every opportunity to talk about his man. At first, the constant mentions of “Jason this” and “Jason that” had been met with teasing eyerolls and mock groans. But after seeing Jason in action, shutting down their tyrant of a manager with one calm but devastating conversation, everyone got it. Completely.

Jason and Y/N quickly became what the group lovingly referred to as the “template” for relationship goals. Y/N didn’t mind the label; he liked that people saw the best parts of their dynamic. What they didn’t see—or couldn’t fully grasp—was the effort and balance behind it all. Jason wasn’t just the tall, brooding vigilante who swooped in to save the day, and Y/N wasn’t just the sweet, supportive boyfriend standing in his shadow. Their relationship was a partnership in every sense of the word, built on mutual protection and care for one another.

“Y/N, how much is your rent for this place? It’s really nice, and I’m looking for something closer to campus,” his friend asked one day during a study session at his and Jason’s apartment. A few of their classmates had joined, and the group was sprawled out in the living room, surrounded by open textbooks, laptops, and half-empty mugs and cups.

Y/N was about to answer—he really was—but then paused, his face twisting into a look of genuine confusion as he stared off into the distance, like he was searching the recesses of his brain for an answer that just wasn’t there. “Uh… I think $1,100? Maybe? Don’t quote me on that, though. I’m not 100% sure.”

His friends all exchanged baffled looks. “Wait, what do you mean you’re not sure?” one of them asked, narrowing their eyes. “How do you not know your own rent?”

“I do! I just… forgot,” Y/N said with a shrug, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Now they were all staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Y/N, literally what the fuck? How do you just forget how much you pay in rent? Who forgets that?”

“I don’t know, okay? I knew it when I signed the lease, but every time I try to pay it at the beginning of the month, Jason’s already paid it. Sometimes months in advance! And, I don’t know, after a while, it just stopped being something I thought about.” Y/N gestured vaguely, as if this explanation somehow made perfect sense.

That didn’t stop the dumbfounded stares—or the flicker of envy in more than a few pairs of eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait.” One of his friends held up a hand. “So your boyfriend just pays your rent for you every month—without even asking—and you just… let him?”

Y/N snorted, sitting back on the couch. “First of all, rude. It’s not like I just let him. Trust me, if you were in my shoes, you’d understand that trying to stop Jason from taking care of me is like… I don’t know, trying to explain to someone in a MAGA hat what a cult is and that they’re in one. You’re not winning that battle.”

Can the church get an amen?

Y/N wasn’t lying—not even a little—when he said that trying to stop Jason from taking care of him was an exercise in futility. If anyone dared to tell Jason he was “doing too much” for his boyfriend, congratulations, they’d now joined the prestigious ranks of those “experts” Jason would gladly let fend for themselves in a crisis. When it came to Y/N, Jason handled it all: physically, emotionally, financially—you name it, he was on it like white on rice. And no amount of protesting from Y/N could change that.

And oh, did Y/N protest.

“Jason, did you pay my rent again?” Y/N asked, stepping into the apartment with his wallet still in hand and a clearly exasperated look on his face. He’d just come back from the leasing office, only to find out his balance was already cleared with a sex month advance payment. Again.

His frustration hit a slight pause, though, as he spotted Jason lounging shirtless on the couch—pause for an aroused deep breath—engrossed in what appeared to be an intense game of Mario Kart on his Nintendo Switch. A book Jason had been reading earlier was tossed haphazardly to the side, forgotten in the heat of the Rainbow Road battle.

Jason didn’t even glance up as he responded, “Yeah, I did. Why?” His thumbs moved quickly over the buttons, his face set in that annoyingly sexy, hyper-focused expression that made Y/N momentarily forget why he was upset in the first place.

“Why?” Y/N snapped, pulling himself out of that temporary daze. “Because I told you not to! That’s why!” He stormed over, planting himself squarely in front of the couch, arms crossed and glare locked on his boyfriend. “Jason, we’ve talked about this. I can handle my own rent.”

Jason sighed, finally pausing his game. He leaned back against the couch with an air of deliberate calm, setting the joy-con controllers aside. “I know you can,” he said, his voice smooth and measured in a way that made Y/N’s resolve falter. Jason’s eyes flicked up to meet his, dark and steady, pinning Y/N in place. “But here’s the thing, babe—you don’t have to.”

“That’s not the point,” Y/N shot back, his voice wavering slightly as Jason stretched lazily, his arms going behind his head in a way that made the muscles in his chest and shoulders flex. Unfair. He was doing this on purpose.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jason’s lips curved into a slow, smug smirk. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and Y/N’s breath hitched as the intensity of his gaze locked onto him. “Taking care of you isn’t optional for me. It’s my job. Whether it’s paying the rent, making sure you eat, or keeping your gorgeous ass out of trouble, that’s mine to handle.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned as he tried to maintain his glare, but it was a losing battle. “Jason,” he said firmly, though the quiver in his voice betrayed him, “you can’t just decide these things without asking me.”

Jason tilted his head, studying him in a way that felt equal parts tender and possessive. “Sure I can,” he said smoothly, reaching out to hook his fingers lightly around Y/N’s wrist, tugging him forward until he was standing between Jason’s knees. “You can handle yourself—I know that. But you don’t need to. Not when I’m here.”

Y/N opened his mouth to protest, but Jason tugged him down into his lap, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him close. His free hand slid to the back of Y/N’s neck, his thumb brushing against the skin there in a way that made Y/N’s heart race.

“Tell me,” Jason murmured, his voice low and commanding, “why should I let you stress over something I can fix? Hmm?”

Y/N bit his lip, trying to muster the strength to argue, but Jason’s tone, his touch, the sheer weight of his presence—it all left him scrambling for words. He hated how easily Jason could reduce him to this flustered mess, and he really hated how much he secretly loved it.

“You’re impossible,” he finally muttered, dropping his head against Jason’s shoulder, his voice soft and defeated.

“And you love me for it,” Jason murmured against his ear, his smirk practically audible.

Y/N groaned but didn’t pull away, his fingers curling against Jason’s chest. “This conversation isn’t over,” he mumbled, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Sure, babe. Whatever you say,” Jason replied, leaning back with Y/N still in his lap, his grip firm and unyielding. He reached for his Switch with his free hand, resuming his game like he hadn’t just completely derailed the argument and walked away victorious.

And as much as Y/N wanted to be mad, he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. Damn it. He really did love him for it. The student didn’t need to say how much he appreciated the weight of Jason’s steady presence; Jason didn’t need to hear it to know. And while Y/N would keep fighting to hold his own ground, there was a part of him—an unspoken, undeniable part—that found comfort in letting Jason hold the world at bay for him.

Their domestic life was a careful dance of their unspoken dynamic, with Jason ensuring their world was secure and steady, while Y/N kept their home—and Jason—centered and whole. Their roles played out naturally, shaped by who they were as individuals. Jason made sure the outside world couldn’t touch Y/N, taking care of the big things, the dangerous things that he’d never let his boyfriend come within a mile of. His presence was a shield, and his devotion ran so deep that sometimes it felt like he’d lay the world at Y/N’s feet if it meant seeing him happy.

Y/N swears there was one time he cracked a joke about wanting to live out his “soft boi” aesthetic—because, obviously, the ‘i’ made it edgier—and Jason, without missing a beat, ran with it without ever looking back.

But Y/N? He was the one who kept their world turning smoothly, the quiet, grounding presence that made sure Jason had a place to fall apart when life became too much. Whether it was stocking the kitchen with Jason’s favorite snacks or simply sitting with him on the couch after a rough patrol, Y/N created the kind of space Jason didn’t even realize he needed—safe, steady, and entirely his.

That balance extended to the little things too. Jason liked to cook when he had the time, his meals always hearty, protein-packed “fuel” designed to keep them going. Y/N, on the other hand, was the one who brought warmth to the table, sneaking in something sweet or comforting—even if it meant slipping vegetables into Jason’s plate, much to his dramatic protests.

“Because it’s pesto,” Y/N replied innocently, grinning as he leaned against the counter. “Don’t act like you’re too good for spinach.”

Jason grumbled something under his breath—something about how spinach was a lie—but ate every bite, proving once again that Y/N knew exactly how to play him.

And then there were the quieter moments—the ones that reminded them both why they worked so well together. Nights spent curled up on the couch, Jason sprawled out with his head resting in Y/N’s lap, his fingers absently tracing patterns along Y/N’s thigh. Y/N would run his fingers through Jason’s hair, the simple, soothing gesture melting away the tension that Jason carried like a second skin. Sometimes they’d talk—about Jason’s patrols, Y/N’s classes, or random nonsense that didn’t matter. Other times, they simply existed together, the quiet hum of their apartment a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the world outside.

But even Y/N, the softer half of their partnership, had his limits when it came to anyone crossing a line with Jason. Like the time a journalist ambushed Jason at a charity event, spouting thinly veiled accusations about his past. Jason had been moments away from snapping, his fists clenching at his sides, when Y/N calmly stepped in.

“If you don’t have something constructive to say,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “then I suggest you find someone else to bother.”

The journalist, thrown off by Y/N’s tone—gentle but edged like a blade—backed off almost immediately. Jason hadn’t said a word about it afterward, but later that night, when they were home, he’d kissed Y/N’s temple and murmured a quiet, “Thank you.”

Y/N was never afraid to step in for Jason when he needed him to, even if Jason wouldn’t—or couldn’t��outwardly ask for it. And the fact that Jason didn’t have to ask made it all the more meaningful for the vigilante. Y/N always seemed to know when to intervene, especially in moments when Jason couldn’t advocate for himself—particularly when it came to Bruce.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Jason had come home late that night, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped in a way that told Y/N everything he needed to know before Jason even said a word. Gotham’s chaos could wear Jason down, but this kind of defeated air? That was Bruce’s handiwork.

Y/N didn’t push right away. He let Jason slip into the apartment, kick off his boots, and collapse onto the couch without a word. Jason sat there, his hands hanging limply between his knees, staring blankly at the floor like he was stuck in some internal tug-of-war. Y/N sat beside him, his hand lightly brushing Jason’s shoulder before resting on his thigh—a grounding touch.

“What happened?” Y/N asked softly.

Jason’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “It’s Bruce,” he said after a long pause, his voice raw. “We were handling this case—a trafficking ring. I had it handled, Y/N. I had it. But he pulled the plug on the whole thing because it didn’t fit his goddamn code.” His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. “There were kids involved, and he still chose the ‘moral high ground’ over what needed to be done. And then—” Jason’s voice broke, and he shook his head, his frustration giving way to something more fragile. “He looked at me like I was the problem. Like I was… too much again. Like I’m always too much.”

Y/N’s heart clenched as he took in the words, the quiet ache that laced Jason’s tone. It wasn’t just the case or Bruce’s stubbornness that hurt him—it was the way Bruce always seemed to find a way to make Jason feel like he’d never be enough, no matter what he did.

Y/N leaned in, his hand sliding up to the back of Jason’s neck, fingers gently massaging the tension there. “You’re not too much, Jay,” he murmured, his voice steady. “Not for me. Not for anyone who actually knows you.”

Jason didn’t respond, but the way he leaned into Y/N’s touch, his head bowing slightly, said more than words ever could.

An hour later, when a knock came at the door, Y/N didn’t need to guess who it was. He stood, sighing as Jason stayed where he was on the couch, visibly tensing at the sound. Y/N opened the door to find Bruce standing there, in some more casual wear (if you could ever call Bruce’s “old money” aesthetic casual), his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Y/N,” Bruce greeted, his tone clipped. “I need to speak with Jason.”

Y/N didn’t move, his hand braced casually against the doorframe. “No, you don’t.”

Bruce blinked, clearly unused to being told no—and even less accustomed to hearing it so decisively. “It’s important.”

“Is someone dead or currently dying?”

The blunt, and sarcastic tone of his words, while it didn’t visually throw the billionaire off, Y/N could see Bruce was surprised by his tone. He didn’t know how, but he clocked the shift in his demeanor. Maybe he was picking up some skills from his boyfriend after all.

“No, but–”

“Then, it can wait,” Y/N said, his tone edge with a finality that left no room for question or pushback. “He just came home, and I don’t think he needs you piling on more stress right now. Whatever you’ve got to say can wait.”

Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t about stress. It’s about his actions tonight. He—”

“—did what he thought was right,” Y/N interrupted, his voice sharpening just slightly. “And from what he told me, he was right. You’re the one who undermined him and made him feel like he was a problem.”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N stepped out into the hallway, lowering his voice but not his resolve. “Look, Mr. Wayne, I get that you care about him in your own… specific way. But if you want to keep him in your life, maybe stop treating him like he’s the black sheep who’ll never measure up to your perfect little code. Because right now? You’re the only one who can make him feel like this, and that’s not the kind of impact someone who ‘cares’ should have.”

Bruce’s face didn’t betray much, but Y/N caught the faint flicker of something—guilt, maybe—in his eyes. Still, he didn’t budge. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“No,” Y/N said calmly, stepping back into the apartment and beginning to close the door. “But it is for tonight. Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.”

With that, he shut the door, turning back to see Jason watching him from the couch, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief.

“Did you really just tell Bruce Wayne to go home?” Jason asked, his lips twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to smirk or shake his head.

“Damn right I did,” Y/N replied, crossing his arms with a small, satisfied huff. “And I’d do it again.”

Jason let out a low chuckle, his hand brushing through his hair as he leaned back against the couch. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”

“Please,” Y/N shot back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like it’s a big deal. Someone had to say it, and we both know you weren’t going to.” He paused, watching Jason closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And speaking of things you aren’t doing…”

Jason raised an eyebrow, his interest visibly piqued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Y/N leaned forward, tapping Jason’s knee with mock seriousness. “First, you’re going to get off this couch, because moping is not a good look for you. Then, you’re going to help me put away the laundry because I’ve been doing it all day while you were out being Mr. Broody Vigilante. And after that? You’re going to make us both something to eat, because I’m starving and I’m not lifting a finger tonight. You’ve got work to do, big guy.”

Jason blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression shifted into something darker, sharper. He cocked his head, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, really?” he drawled, his tone low and deliberate as he sat up straighter. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, but he held his ground, leveling Jason with his best faux-bossy glare. “That’s exactly how it’s gonna be. So, get moving, Todd.”

Jason was on his feet before Y/N could blink, towering over him with that quiet, commanding energy that always sent a thrill down his spine. He didn’t say a word at first, just leaned down slightly, his eyes locked on Y/N’s like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You think you’re in charge now?” Jason asked softly, his voice deceptively calm. His hand brushed against Y/N’s jaw, his thumb tracing the curve of his cheek with deliberate slowness. “That’s cute.”

Y/N swallowed hard, refusing to back down even as Jason’s presence enveloped him. “Not cute,” he retorted, his voice wavering just slightly. “Efficient.”

Jason’s smirk widened, and in one swift motion, he scooped Y/N up from the couch, earning a startled yelp that quickly turned into laughter. “Efficient, huh?” Jason murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he carried him toward the bedroom. “Let’s see how efficient you are at following orders, then. Because we both know who calls the shots here, don’t we?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, his breath hitching as Jason pinned him with that intense, unrelenting gaze. “Jason…” he started, but his boyfriend was already laying him down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore.

“You wanted me to focus on something else,” Jason murmured, leaning over him, his hands braced on either side of Y/N’s head. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You’ve got my full attention now.”

And just like that, Y/N’s carefully constructed plan to distract Jason had backfired spectacularly—not that he was complaining. If there was one thing Jason was good at, it was reminding him exactly who was in charge.

“Alright, Y/N. Truth or Dare,” his best friend asked, a mischievous glint in his eye as the group sat around in a circle during their weekly de-stresser game night. Of course, their version of game night had taken a more explicit turn—totally par for the course with this group.

“Um… truth,” Y/N said hesitantly, already sensing trouble.

“Oh, perfect,” Seth said, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. “Alright, Mr. L/N, the time has come for you to reveal your truth. Are you a bossy power bottom or a slutty, submissive one?”

The room erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, with a couple of dramatic “oh my God” reactions thrown in for good measure. Y/N’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to form words. Before he could even start to defend himself, someone else chimed in.

“Bro, seriously? What kind of question is that?”

Y/N immediately felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Thank you—finally, someone gets it—”

But then came the follow-up.

“We all know there’s not a dominant bone in his body. If anything, it’s giving brat who likes to be put in his place.”

The room fell silent for half a beat before laughter exploded all around him, punctuated by a few dramatic “damn”s and someone nearly choking on their drink.

Y/N blinked, his brain short-circuiting as the betrayal sank in. “Excuse me?!” he finally managed, his voice high-pitched and offended as he pointed an accusing finger at the culprit.

“I dare you to try and tell me I’m lying,” His friend challenged him with a raised eyebrow. And when Y/N couldn’t formulate a defense for himself, his friend nodded his head knowingly, “Exactly as I thought.”

Because was he actually lying?

“I dare you to tell me I’m wrong,” his friend challenged, one eyebrow arched and a smug smirk tugging at their lips.

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out—just the faintest stutter of indignation as his brain scrambled for a defense that simply didn’t exist.

His friend nodded knowingly, leaning back with a triumphant grin. “Exactly what I thought.”

Because, honestly… were they even wrong?

Frankly, if you looked at their relationship as a whole, was it really that surprising?

Jason, in a nutshell, was all rough edges and a protective streak that could rival Fort Knox, but with a kind of intimacy that Y/N never saw coming. It was whiplash in the best way possible. One minute, he was Gotham’s most intimidating vigilante, and the next, he was softly murmuring sweet nothings while holding Y/N like he was the most fragile, precious thing on the planet. Y/N had once joked that Jason was like a human light switch—rough and dominant one moment, soft and needy the next. Now? It was just something he accepted… and secretly loved.

Because the roughness Jason brought into their bed was never just about dominance—it was about claiming. There were nights when Jason would grip Y/N’s hips like he was staking his territory, growling low in his ear as he worked Y/N’s body to the point of trembling. If Jason was feeling particularly territorial—or, as Y/N liked to put it, “possessive alpha wolf mode”—restraints were almost a guarantee. Y/N would be left tied up, squirming and gasping as Jason moved with a kind of intensity that left no room for doubt about who was in control.

And then, like clockwork, came the switch.

Imagine this: a six-foot-something mass of pure muscle and testosterone, who’d just spent the last hour absolutely wrecking Y/N—legs shaking, throat raw from moans that could probably be heard two apartments over—suddenly curling up beside him like the world’s biggest teddy bear. Jason would go from rough, grunting dominance, a man on a mission to leave Y/N marked and molded for days, to nuzzling into Y/N’s neck with soft kisses and quietly demanding to be held like he was the one who’d been put through the wringer.

It was absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. And Y/N? He let it happen every single time. No wonder Jason was so spoiled in their relationship.

What else was he supposed to do when Jason left him in a post-fuck haze so blissed out he couldn’t even remember what year it was? By the time Jason would return from cleaning him up, soft praise slipping from his lips as he gently wiped Y/N down, the fight had already left him. And honestly? Who was Y/N kidding—he didn’t want to fight it. Not when Jason would tuck him against his broad chest like they hadn’t just committed sins the mattress might never recover from.

But here was the kicker: for all the dominance Jason brought into their dynamic, Y/N knew the man craved the quiet moments afterward just as much—if not more. Those moments when Y/N’s hands would slide up into Jason’s hair, gently massaging his scalp, or trace over the faded scars on his chest like they were the most fascinating pieces of art. Jason wouldn’t say much—he didn’t need to. The way he sighed into Y/N’s touch, letting himself completely relax, said everything.

It was a ridiculous dance of give and take: Jason would obliterate Y/N’s body with enough intensity to leave him rethinking all his life choices, only to turn into the world’s biggest cuddle bug immediately after, soaking up every ounce of affection Y/N could give him. And as much as Y/N liked to complain about the whiplash, the truth was that he wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

Because as much as Jason loved being the one in control, Y/N had him wrapped around his finger the moment his fingers slid into Jason’s hair, soothing away the world like only he could. It was a balance only they understood, and it worked in ways no one else could ever pull off.

But it wasn’t just in the bedroom where Jason’s attention shined. Y/N would often catch Jason’s gaze lingering at the most random moments, his blue-green eyes shamelessly raking over him like he was a five-course meal and Jason hadn’t eaten in weeks. Whether it was Y/N lounging around in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, running errands in shorts that rode up just a little too high, or even bundled up in the most unflattering hoodie he owned, Jason’s carnal desire never wavered. If anything, it intensified as their relationship deepened.

Jason didn’t even bother hiding it anymore. Y/N had long stopped being surprised by the firm smack on his ass whenever Jason walked by, followed by the satisfied grin his boyfriend would flash as if to say, Mine.

“Jason!” Y/N would shriek every time, a startled jump or yelp accompanying his protests. But the man never looked the least bit guilty. If anything, he’d double down, grabbing a handful and muttering something along the lines of, “Couldn’t help it,” or, “You’re teasing me.”

The truth? Jason had rules—categories, if you will—when it came to Y/N’s wardrobe. There were outfits Y/N could wear in public, outfits strictly for lounging at home, and then there were the "home only" outfits. And no, "home only" didn’t mean cute loungewear. It was a polite way of saying, for Jason’s eyes only.

“Babe, you’re not wearing that outside,” Jason had said once, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway as Y/N attempted to leave for the gym.

“It’s just a pair of shorts!” Y/N protested, gesturing down at the admittedly form-fitting gym wear that showcased his thighs just a little too well.

“Exactly,” Jason replied, his eyes narrowing. “Those are home shorts. You’re not walking into a gym full of thirsty people in that.”

“Jason, you’re being ridiculous,” Y/N huffed, crossing his arms.

“Maybe,” Jason said with a shrug, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Y/N’s waist. He leaned in, lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as he added in a low voice, “But that doesn’t change anything, now go change..”

And that was that. Jason had an uncanny ability to make his tone very rigid and unyielding, leaving no room for argument which would have Y/N’s protests dying on his lips every time.

Then, there were the outfits Y/N didn’t even get to leave the house in—because they didn’t survive Jason. It had become a running joke between them, the sheer number of shirts, pants, and underwear Jason had destroyed in fits of possessive frustration. If something hugged Y/N’s figure a little too well, Jason didn’t bother holding back. Many an innocent shirt had been ripped clean down the middle, casualties of Jason giving in to his urges.

“Do you have any idea how much you cost me in clothes?” Y/N had grumbled once as Jason stood over him, shirtless and smirking like the devil himself.

Jason had only shrugged, pulling Y/N into his lap. “Then stop wearing stuff that teases me,” he murmured, his lips trailing along Y/N’s neck. “Or don’t. Gives me an excuse to buy you more.”

And buy he did. But let’s be real—certain clothes never lasted long in their relationship. Case in point? The time Y/N ordered a pair of shorts he’d been eyeing for weeks, fully aware that Jason would raise an eyebrow so high it’d disappear into his hairline. Still, in a moment of fuck it impulse, Y/N clicked "add to cart," setting the stage for the chaos to follow.

When the package arrived, Y/N pushed the door open with a huff, struggling to balance the various bags and boxes in his arms as he shuffled into the apartment. “Jason, can you help me?” he called, his voice slightly muffled as he tried not to drop anything.

Jason, sprawled on the couch and scrolling through his phone, glanced up. His eyebrows rose at the sight of his boyfriend buried beneath a mountain of shopping bags. “More clothes?” he asked, standing up and strolling over with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, more clothes,” Y/N shot back, setting his haul down on the kitchen counter. “You know, since someone has a habit of destroying half my wardrobe.”

Jason shrugged, entirely unbothered. “What can I say? Some of them deserved it.”

Rolling his eyes, Y/N began unpacking his bags, pulling out folded shirts, joggers, and a few items that were more… adventurous. As Jason retreated back to the couch, Y/N grabbed one of his new purchases and headed to the bathroom to try it on.

A few minutes later, Y/N emerged, ready to test the waters. He stepped into the living room, his expression smug as he strolled in wearing a pair of black shorts that barely qualified as clothing. The sheer mesh fabric, paired with slits running up the sides, left little—if anything—to the imagination.

Jason glanced up, and his relaxed posture evaporated. His gaze sharpened, his smirk vanishing as his eyes darkened with a possessive glint. “Those,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble, “are not leaving this apartment.”

Y/N paused, glancing at Jason’s expression before looking down to examine the shorts. “What? These? Oh, come on, they’re gym shorts,” he said, smoothing the fabric over his thighs. “I can’t wait to test them out during leg day.”

Jason’s jaw ticked, his gaze locked on Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’re not wearing those to the gym.”

“Jason, don’t start,” Y/N said, stepping closer to the couch—his first mistake. Paired with the loose, cropped tank he was wearing, the look was downright scandalous. He twirled around playfully, flashing a cheeky grin. “See? They’re nice. Functional.”

Jason didn’t reply. He just sat there, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing as Y/N paraded around, pushing the limits. The tension between them was palpable, thickening with every second that Jason didn’t speak. And when Y/N cocked a hip and teased, “What? Don’t like them?”—that was the final straw.

Jason moved so fast Y/N barely registered it. In one fluid motion, he reached out, grabbing the shorts by one of the side slits and yanking hard. The fabric tore with a sharp rip, leaving Y/N stumbling forward with a gasp.

“Jason!” Y/N yelped, his voice equal parts indignation and shock. But before he could gather himself, Jason leaned back on the couch, effortlessly pulling Y/N into his lap. His hands gripped Y/N’s waist, holding him firmly in place as his legs were spread across Jason’s thighs.

“These,” Jason growled, his hands sliding down to Y/N’s exposed skin, “are home-only shorts. Got it?”

Y/N squirmed, pressing his hands against Jason’s chest in a weak attempt to push away. “Jason, you can’t just—”

Another sharp rip interrupted him as Jason’s rough fingers tore at the other slit, leaving the shorts hanging on by mere threads. Y/N gasped, heat rushing to his face as Jason’s hands roamed possessively, smoothing over his bare thighs with deliberate, firm strokes.

“What did I say?” Jason questioned, his voice a dangerous whisper that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “These are for my eyes only.”

Y/N’s protests dissolved into breathy whines as Jason’s hands tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. A sharp smack landed on Y/N’s rear, drawing a startled yelp, followed by another that left him gripping Jason’s shoulders for balance.

“Stop squirming,” Jason ordered, his tone firm and commanding as he leaned in, his face inches from Y/N’s. His dark gaze pinned Y/N in place as one hand slid to the back of his neck. “You know how this works, sweetheart. You push, I push back.”

Y/N bit his lip, his glare faltering under Jason’s intense stare. At some point, the defiance melted into submission, and their lips collided in a heated, desperate kiss. Jason’s hands never left Y/N’s body, gripping, claiming, and asserting dominance with every touch.

Before Y/N knew it, he was on his knees, Jason standing over him with his pants tugged low enough to reveal just how demanding he was. Y/N didn’t fight it—instead, he leaned into Jason’s command, eager to please the man who had thoroughly dismantled every ounce of his bravado.

By the end of it, Y/N was back on Jason’s lap, legs spread on either side as his body trembled with it being moved roughly up and down on the vigilante’s manhood, his own throbbing hardness rubbing against his boyfriend’s abs as Jason held him close. The only piece of clothing left between them were the shredded remains of the mesh shorts clinging to Y/N’s hips—barely.

Of course, Jason had to replace them with not one, but three new pairs after the fact. But he made it very clear they’d all meet the same fate if Y/N ever dared to wear them outside the apartment.

Did Y/N listen? Absolutely not. Because, let’s be real—he loved pissing Jason off. And honestly? Maybe the whole “brat who likes to be put in his place” thing wasn’t so far off after all.

And, of course, Jason wasn’t the only one who knew how to push buttons. He had his own arsenal of outfits that drove Y/N wild, and he wielded them with precision. Whether it was his compression gear that clung to his chest and arms in ways that made Y/N’s mouth go dry, or his Red Hood attire that practically screamed dominance, Jason loved to see the effect his clothing—or lack thereof—had on Y/N.

“You’re staring,” Jason had teased once, pulling his hoodie over his compression top in the middle of the gym.

Y/N, flustered and blatantly ogling, had tried to recover with a weak, “No, I wasn’t.”

Jason had chuckled, leaning in just enough to murmur, “You were. And I liked it.”

But the real chaos came in the bedroom. Jason, ever the tease, would sometimes refuse to take off his compression shirt or Red Hood pants during sex, fully aware of the primal side it brought out in Y/N.

“Stop, don’t take it off,” Y/N had panted once, his fingers gripping the slick, tight material as Jason tried to pull it over his head. “Leave it on.”

Jason had smirked, leaning down to kiss Y/N’s neck as he growled, “Anything you want, sweetheart.” He knew exactly what he was doing, letting Y/N’s hands wander over the material, the added friction driving him crazy in the best way.

Jason loved pulling that raw, uninhibited side out of Y/N. It was a side only he got to see, and he relished every second of it. Because while Jason loved being the one in control, he also loved seeing Y/N completely undone, lost in the moment with him.

It was, perhaps, a side effect of Jason’s deeply ingrained dominant nature—his unrelenting need to maintain a sense of control over his surroundings and the people within them. Did that mean he saw Y/N as something to control? Absolutely not. But Jason would be the first to admit that the urge to assert himself surfaced now and then. Fortunately, he had found a way to channel it into something far more productive, releasing it in moments of intimacy where it was not only welcomed but eagerly reciprocated.

And those moments of intimacy? They weren’t confined to the bedroom. Jason’s possessiveness bled into every aspect of their lives, a steady undercurrent to the way he loved. His need for control stemmed from a life filled with chaos, and Y/N understood that better than anyone. Whether it was the firm weight of Jason’s hand resting on the back of his neck during a particularly heated moment, or the low, growling reminders of exactly who Y/N belonged to, Jason’s message was always clear: he didn’t just love Y/N—he claimed him, body and soul.

Jason didn’t say much when Y/N walked into their apartment wearing the oversized hoodie. It was one of Jason’s, slightly frayed at the cuffs and just loose enough to drown Y/N’s smaller frame. The sight alone had Jason's lips twitching upward, his ego swelling with unspoken pride. There was something about Y/N wearing his clothes, especially in public, that hit Jason in a way he couldn’t describe. It wasn’t just the visual—it was the claim it represented, the quiet acknowledgment that Y/N was his, and he didn’t even need to say it out loud for the world to know.

“Isn’t this your hoodie?” Y/N asked casually, dropping his bag onto the floor as he walked past Jason toward the kitchen. He sounded innocent, completely unaware of the fire he’d just stoked. “I borrowed it to wear on campus today. It’s so comfy.”

Jason didn’t respond right away, his gaze trailing after Y/N like a predator tracking its prey. He could see how the fabric clung to Y/N’s shoulders and chest, the way the hem barely grazed the tops of his thighs. It was maddening. He let out a slow, measured breath, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s mine,” Jason finally said, his voice low but even.

Y/N hummed a little as he rummaged through the fridge. “Well, don’t expect to see it for a while. I’m keeping it.”

Jason’s jaw ticked, his fingers tapping against the armrest of the couch. You’re keeping it, huh? The possessive part of his brain whispered promises of retribution, even as he outwardly played it cool. He waited, biding his time.

Later that night, Jason made his move.

Y/N barely had a chance to react before he found himself pinned beneath Jason on the mattress, the hoodie in question already shoved halfway up his torso. Jason’s massive frame hovered over him, his green-blue eyes blazing with a mix of heat and unrestrained hunger.

“You wore my hoodie,” Jason murmured, his voice husky and low, each word dripping with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

“Yeah,” Y/N managed to reply, his voice breathless as Jason’s hands slid beneath the fabric, rough palms grazing over his bare skin. “I… I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Jason smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed against Y/N’s ear. “I don’t mind, sweetheart,” he whispered. “In fact, I like it. But you should’ve known what that would do to me.”

Before Y/N could respond, Jason’s lips captured his in a searing kiss, stealing the air from his lungs. The hoodie bunched awkwardly around Y/N’s chest as Jason adjusted their positions, one hand pinning Y/N’s wrists above his head while the other roamed freely, kneading his thighs and gripping his waist.

Jason moved slowly at first, rocking his hips in a deliberate rhythm that had Y/N arching up into him. The friction of the hoodie’s fabric against their heated skin was intoxicating, Jason’s voice dropping into a growl as he murmured filthy words into Y/N’s ear.

“You wore this out in public,” Jason said, his voice dark and possessive as his hand slid up to gently grip Y/N’s throat. “Let everyone see you in my clothes. Do you know what that does to me? Huh? Knowing they all saw you like this, wearing something that smells like me?”

Y/N whimpered, his eyes glassy as he gazed up at Jason. His thighs trembled where they were pressed against Jason’s hips, every sharp thrust pulling more desperate sounds from his lips.

Jason tightened his grip slightly, just enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through Y/N without ever crossing the line. “Next time,” Jason growled, his pace rough and demanding now, “ask me first. Or better yet, let me put it on you myself. Because when you wear this, it’s not just a hoodie—it’s a mark. A reminder to everyone who you belong to.”

Y/N’s head lolled back against the pillow, his hands twisting beneath Jason’s unyielding grip. His voice was barely above a whisper as he replied, “Yours, Jason. I’m yours.”

That was all Jason needed. He buried himself deeper, his hand slipping from Y/N’s throat to cup his jaw as he captured his lips again. By the time they were both spent, the hoodie had become an even bigger mess—damp with sweat and stretched beyond repair. Jason lay beside Y/N, his chest rising and falling as he dragged a hand over the faint marks he’d left on Y/N’s neck.

“You’re not wearing this hoodie out again,” Jason murmured, his tone soft now, though no less firm.

Y/N let out a sleepy laugh, snuggling closer to Jason’s side. “Good thing you’ve got plenty more for me to borrow.”

Jason chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Y/N smirked, his eyes fluttering shut. “Not a chance.”

Jason let out a soft laugh, wrapping his arms around Y/N and pulling him closer. Because for all his possessiveness, all his need to dominate and claim, it was moments like this—holding Y/N close, feeling the steady beat of his heart—that reminded him what all of it was really for. Y/N couldn’t help but smile to, because no matter how overwhelming Jason’s love could be, it was also the safest place Y/N had ever known.

Yeah, their love really was like no other. Y/N could absolutely understand why people envied and praised their relationship—it was intense, chaotic, and tender all at once, the kind of connection that made rom-coms look bland by comparison. If he were in their shoes, he’d probably be gushing about it too. Hell, he already did, and he was living it.

But honestly? The next person who came up to him with the audacity to ask if Jason was single was about to catch hands. Y/N normally wasn’t the jealous one in their relationship as it’s been made clear—normally—but there were limits. And some people clearly didn’t know what those limits were.

Just ask that bitch, Xavion…

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

1K notes · View notes

fleurdeserre · 3 months ago

Text

Artist Turned Muse

Fandom: 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) Category: F/M Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Main Character/Qi Yu | Rafayel; Qi Yu | Rafayel/You Tags: One Shot, Crack Fic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person, POV Rafayel, POV Second Person, Light Angst

Summary: Rafayel knows you're lying to him but he doesn't know what the reason behind it is. So the best logical conclusion he comes to is that you are seeing someone else.

A/N: disclaimers: - english isn't my first language, so sorry for any potential mistakes - this is a crack fic written purely for funsies with a pinch of angst (cause it's Rafayel), don't take it too seriously - the fic begins with Rafayel's POV and then it changes to reader's POV

you can read the fic here or go to ao3 (hyperlink in the title)

Rafayel knows his girlfriend has been up to something as of late. He just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was.

At first, he ignored it. Well, no, he didn’t actually ignore it, more like he just pretended it didn’t bother him—a tactic he was very well-accustomed to.

How did he know something was off, you might ask. Well, first of all Rafayel knows his beloved, thank you very much, so it’s no surprise that the first thing to tip him off was her lying to him. He knows she couldn’t lie to save her life—unlike himself, of course.

So, naturally when he asked her what plans she had for the weekend and she pulled out a half-assed excuse about some kind of reading she needed to catch up to, he knew immediately it wasn’t actually the case. This girl is so bad at lying, Rafayel has no idea why she still even tries. The birthday preparations she tried to make in secret should’ve been proof enough to discourage her from ever trying to lie to him again.

Rafayel, guided by that logic, has tried jogging his memory to remember if there were any anniversaries or other special occasions worthy of celebration and came to the conclusion that there were none. That realization frustrated him to no end because that meant he had no clue what was actually happening with his girl.

Days, then weeks kept going in that same manner with her always making excuses and disappearing for several hours, not answering her phone and keeping her text messages short. He thought he did something wrong and she was just pissed at him but that also wasn’t the case because there were no indications of that apart from her disappearing all the time.

Then it finally hit him.

She must be seeing someone else. The betrayal he felt the moment that thought settled in his head was like no other. It was way worse than her forgetting him back when they first met because, here she is now clearly remembering him, being with him and yet still disappearing on him several times a week. Oh, this is unbearable.

What will he do if that’s truly the case? What can he do, really?

It’s not like Rafayel isn’t giving his all to this relationship. What more could she possibly want and why wouldn’t she simply ask it of him?

If we’re being completely honest, Rafayel is having a full-blown breakdown over this.

Like, if she wanted someone else to spice things up a bit, she could’ve just told him. Sure, Rafayel would’ve probably cried over it but at the end of the day he’d suck it up and do whatever she wanted hoping it was just a phase. If, on the other hand, it was the worst-case scenario and she fell in love with someone else…

Well, that’s not something Rafayel wants to consider. If push comes to shove, he’ll just improvise like he always does praying for the sea to have mercy on him.

He tries not to overthink all of this but it is getting more and more difficult with each passing day with each excuse and lie even though when she’s with him, she’s no different than she’s always been. She’s loving, teasing, and caring. She cuddles with him like she used to, makes sure he doesn’t starve to death while working on a new piece, and makes love with him like it’s their last day on Earth.

Rafayel loses sleep over the predicament he’s found himself in. And worst of all, he can’t even paint—he can’t put his emotions into art, the one thing he’s always praised himself for being good at. Every time he tries, he just stands there for a while with the paintbrush held mid-air, unable to make the first stroke. Then when he finally makes himself move, do something—anything—he is left with a bitter sense of disappointment.

It’s all just…not right. He truly feels like a fish out of water (pun intended).

Not only is she blatantly lying to him, she also hides stuff from him now. She never used to do that before and Rafayel is oh so ready to start ripping off his hair if she continues whatever it is she’s doing now. He’ll go bald at the ripe age of twenty-four. It’d be plastered all over all sorts of billboards too… “An artist gone bald: the downfall of the infamous Rafayel’s hairstyle” or something like that.

Okay, dramatics aside, it is weird. A few days ago, she was on her phone and he dropped onto the sofa right next to her. The moment his head touched her shoulder she locked her phone and put it aside. She thought she was being so nonchalant about it too, but Rafayel isn’t crazy, it wasn’t his imagination playing tricks on him. When he asked her what she was doing she said she was making a list of groceries. Rafayel obviously wasn’t dumb enough to buy that because she wasn’t even typing.

Maybe she was reading someone’s messages? was all Rafayel could think of that sleepless night.

There was that other time, a week ago, when he went to visit her unannounced just because he felt like it and was around the area (not really). He had to wait for her to open the door for two minutes! He knew she was home—the lights were on—but she still made him wait outside the door to her apartment. When she finally let him in, she said, “Oh, sorry, I was making a smoothie when the blender’s lid malfunctioned and the contents were all over my shirt, so I had to change into something else.”

Sounds valid but here’s the catch. When he went to the kitchen it was perfectly clean and the blender was full. It didn’t look like even a drop of its contents was spilled. Weird.

Also, she didn’t let him go anywhere near her bedroom. It’s not like they usually have a habit of hanging around there when her living room is way cozier and much more spacious. It was still weird…

Today is the day he puts an end to all of this. He can no longer live like this. If there’s something she doesn’t want him to know about so as not to hurt him, he needs to know what it is because staying in the dark hurts him even more. He’s starting to second-guess every single interaction they are having these days.

~~~

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that these past few weeks have been a lot: with all the wanderer fighting you had to combine with spending time with Rafayel as well as working on your secret project. Still, you’re proud of yourself for putting your mind to doing this. And it’s going pretty well if anyone asks you; you were expecting it to turn out way worse.

It’s been a while since the thought first came to your head. It happened when you were finally able to convince Rafayel to show you his true form: tail, scales, and all. He was absolutely mesmerizing, it felt as if you were witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. Quite frankly, you were stunned and unable to find words for a good minute. His tail was such a beautiful rich shade of blue and sparkling with droplets of water that it felt downright criminal he was keeping it a secret for so long. Still unable to voice anything coherent you ran your hand down the scales in wonder.

“Do you think I’m a monster now?” he asked when the silence stretched for too long, with a level of uncertainty that broke your heart.

A monster? You couldn’t believe your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Rafayel, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” you said with no hesitation.

This silly man, you thought to yourself. He has no idea how truly amazing he is inside and out in any and all his forms.

You had to show him just how stunning and gorgeous he was. And just like that your mission under the code name “Artist Turned Muse” began.

Then came his drawing lessons…

You asked Rafayel to teach you because of an assignment for a work-related event that you totally didn’t make up. It was all a lie, of course. However, you soon found those lessons to be counterproductive and your teacher quite distracting. So, you had to find some other way to make it work.

A friend of yours who frequents all kinds of workshops has been recommending to you quite a few of them for a while now. When she started listing them all, one of them hit close to home.

“That’s it!” you exclaimed, then hummed to yourself. Paper mache was something you could work with; you were pretty good when it came to working with your hands. Though, it’s been a while since the last time you did anything of the sorts, so you were probably really rusty. That’s why you decided to go to that workshop your friend suggested.

Fast-forward four weeks later, you’re very close to finish and the mini merman Rafayel seems quite close to how the real one looked. You’ve spent quite some time on research, buying materials, and crafting and painting, of course. Additionally, you somehow managed to keep it all a secret from Rafayel, which, truth be told, was the most difficult part of this but you really wanted to make it a surprise.

One day he even showed up at your place uninvited; your hands and clothes were all covered in glue and you had to change and wash up as fast as you could. When he dramatically asked why it took you forever to let him in, you made up an excuse—the first thing that came to your mind—Rafayel seemed to believe it though, because no additional questions came.

Now you’re looking at your creation, it’s almost done, only some finishing touches left. You trace the prominent fleshed out scales of the tail with your fingers. It probably needs some glitter, though using the glue gun to make beads reminiscent of water droplets was a great idea. The goofy little smile you drew on mini Raf’s face makes you huff out a laugh.

That’s when you hear the door to your apartment open. Right away you jump off the chair you were sitting on. There are only two options here: either someone’s breaking in to rob you, or it’s Rafayel who has keys to your apartment, and at this moment you’re not sure which one is worse.

In case it’s really a robbery—which is highly unlikely given that it’s still daytime—you pick up your gun before stepping out of your bedroom. Seeing Rafayel with his hands crossed across his chest in the middle of your living room, you exhale closing the door behind you and putting your gun aside.

“Hello? What happened to knocking?” you try to lighten up the mood with a joke but Rafayel is still frowning for some reason.

Rafayel heaves a deep sigh and says, “I know you’ve been lying to me for weeks. And I know what you’ve been doing behind my back.”

Oh-oh. How did he even find out? That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is he’s upset, like, really, really upset. You weren’t expecting him to take it this badly, though.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean to lie to you…” you say looking at your feet guiltily. Man, surprises are truly exhausting, you’ve spent so much time and effort to keep it a secret and now you’re being reprimanded like a kid for it.

“But you did. I hate it when you lie to me, I’d take a knife in the heart over a lie to my face any day,” Rafayel sounds serious, like never before.

He’s being a bit too dramatic considering the circumstances, in your opinion, however it is true that he’s very sensitive, so it hurts to hear him this vulnerable. “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”

Somehow, Rafayel looks even more hurt after those words leave your mouth. “So, you weren’t even considering the option of not doing it in the first place?” He looks like a puppy that’s been repeatedly kicked in the gut and you’re starting to regret every life choice that has led you to this point. This little project of yours was supposed to empower him and make him feel accepted and loved by you but he just looks like he’s witnessed the biggest betrayal of all.

“I—I didn’t think you’d be so against it, to be honest.” The guilt is swallowing you whole at this point; you just want to hide your head in the sand.

“Why—how could you think I wouldn’t be against such a thing? I mean, I probably could deal with it but at the very least you should’ve said something to me beforehand!” And he’s angry again, huffing and puffing. His cheeks are flushed and you’d say he looks cute if not for the hurt etched into every inch of his face.

“Can we at least talk about it honestly now?” he sounds resigned. “Can you tell me the whole thing from the start?”

“Okay,” you nod and finally get closer to him sitting on the sofa beside him, so that you’re face to face. “I first thought about doing this when you showed me your tail,” you start and hear Rafayel’s breath hitch. He looks teary-eyed—though not a single tear falls—and more vulnerable than ever. Oh God, you knew he was very self-conscious and insecure about his lemurian form, you should’ve never tried anything like making a replica of it. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I should’ve asked you if you were comfortable with me doing anything like this, it was stupid.” Considering how much of a touchy subject Lemuria is for him and how for centuries humans have been using lemurians for all sorts of purposes.

“So, you decided to find someone else because I’m not human?”

What?

No, that’s not right.

“WHAT?” That’s more like it. You sound absolutely appalled at the idea. How—where did this even come from—

Oh.

Oh no, this is a disaster. A complete disaster.

“Rafayel, please tell me what exactly you thought I was lying to you about?”

He still looks distraught as he tries to say, “That you were…” inhale, pause, exhale, “seeing someone else?” his voice uncertain now.

Oh hell no.

“Of course, I wasn’t,” you say as you cup Rafayel’s cheeks. He looks into your eyes and your heart breaks all over again. This silly man thought you were cheating on him and still didn’t say a word until today? And he said he could “deal with it” if you warned him about it? Oh, you need to put an end to this right now.

You don’t even care that the figurine isn’t quite finished yet, you take Rafayel’s hand and lead him into your room. “Ta-da,” you jokingly half whisper, motioning your hand towards the mess that is your desk and workspace in general. The mini Rafayel proudly laying in the middle of it all.

“What’s this…” Rafayel looks around the room, probably still expecting another man to jump out of the closet.

“I was making a paper mache figurine of you, you silly man! There was no other man I was seeing,” you say reassuringly and then add a little sly remark, “Well, if you don’t count this little fishie as one.”

And finally, there’s a glimmer of life in Rafayel’s eyes. “So, you’re not having an affair?”

“Of course, I’m not,” you say one more time, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Thank goodness!” Rafayel exclaims, scoops you up and spins you around, a yelp of surprise escaping your mouth.

“How could you even think I’d be interested in anyone else when I have you?” Your head spins a bit and you can’t stop a little giggle from coming out because, honestly, this whole interaction and misunderstanding is ridiculous. “I don’t need nor do I want any other man when I already have the one I love,” is what you choose to say instead of mocking him. (Though you absolutely will tease him relentlessly and will never let him live this down)

“Yeah, I know…” he says, avoiding your gaze. But does he really?

“I love you, Rafayel.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“No, you don’t. I love you. I am in love with every version of you, in every way, shape, and form you come,” you say because he needs to hear this. “I love you yet I feel like that word can’t even come close to what I feel towards you. It’s so, so much bigger than what words could convey. Please don’t ever doubt that.” You peck his lips to emphasize your point.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says but he doesn’t look guilty, in fact, he finally looks like himself, grinning from ear to ear and pecking you in return.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “But…”

“But?” Rafayel lifts one of his brows up.

“Don’t you wanna say something in return?” you teasingly drawl the last word.

Rafayel smirks and clears his throat before saying, “Oh? What could that possibly be?”

“I don’t know, maybe something that would correspond with what I said to you earlier?” Your fingers creep up his arm to his shoulder and then flick his nose.

“Ooooh, you mean that,” he articulates exaggeratedly. “Yeah, sure, cutie. I love me, too.”

You playfully slap his arm and pinch it hard.

“Ouch! That hurt!” he exclaims but that doesn’t deter you. You keep pinching him, then start tickling him all over his body, as he falls onto your bed and wheezes. “Okay, fine, I yield!” A pause. “I love you, too.” He’s holding both your hands by the wrists, so you can’t keep tickling him. Then his breathy laughs stop, his eyes growing softer, more sincere. “I have loved you my whole life. And not just this one. I’ve loved you in every lifetime before this one and I will keep doing so in every following one.”

Now it’s your turn to hold your breath. Sometimes he just says the corniest, cheesiest, most romantic things in the world out of the blue and you’re just left there to pick up the million pieces it shatters you into.

You’re fiercely blushing, so you clear your throat and try to joke your way out of this. “Can you maybe pretend to forget about the mini fishie over there until I finish working on it?”

Rafayel laughs out loud and kisses your forehead. “No problem, cutie. Sorry I ruined your surprise,” he says. “But you should probably stop ever trying to lie again, you really suck at it.”

#my fanfiction #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #l&ds #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x mc #qi yu #qi yu love and deepspace #fanfic

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mogai945 · 7 months ago

Text

my liomogai experience

[PT: my liomogai experience /end PT]

in the wake of how many posts we've seen lately in the mogai community about people speaking on their experiences with their labels, we thought we'd throw our hat in the ring and share our own experiences!! and, while a collective post will likely come at some point, that will also require a lot more time and in-system communication to coordinate as a collective, so in the meantime, i (tommy) figured i'd share my personal experiences with my identity!!

i'll try to keep this mildly organized by splitting this up into most of the sections that i have in my hoard!! as such, here's the table of contents (sadly with no hyperlinks to the respective sections, much though i wish that were possible on tumblr):

1) alderns 2) chronos 3) fictidomi 4) genders 5) hearthomes 6) hoarding terms 7) invianes 8) referral terms 9) systemhood: 9.1) roles 9.2) roleics 10) umbrella terms 11) xenonatures

lastly, a major shout out to @radiomogai's archive for being one of the most useful blogs in finding new terms!! tagging you also since i saw you want to be tagged in these discussion posts :-)

alderns

[PT: alderns /end PT]

original post: link terms i identify with: aldercustomize (link)

alderns are terms i am not very familiar with, but i do often wish i (or, primarily the body, since i can do this in innerworld) could shapeshift/change form. aldercustomize being the specific term i identify with stems, in no small part, from the fact that videogames are our main collective special interest, and specifically a special interest that we experience as foundational, aka a special interest that affects the very way in which we view the world and how we interact with it (which is its own rant; if there's interest in the various types of special interests we experience, i'd be happy to elaborate!).

because of this, shapeshifting taking the form of a character creation screen just... makes sense, in a way that other shapeshifting terms don't quite make sense!! it's also akin to making a picrew, if that makes more sense :-)

chronos

[PT: chronos /end PT]

original definition: link (couldn't find the original post itself; if anyone has it, please do send it to us!!) terms i identify with: littlebrotherchro (link)

like alderns, i'm not super familiar with this umbrella term, but this one is quite simple, and actually quite important to understanding a lot of other factors of my identity!! it stems primarily from my being younger in innerworld than the body is, as well as the fact that i ageslide fairly often.

this is one that i'm fairly sure i would have other labels for if i went looking specifically, but i have not yet!! thus, as it currently stands, littlebrotherchro specifically stems from the fact that i have a lot of relationships where i'm the younger brother, generally in my found family, and that's just- a role in a dynamic that i am very comfortable with, and feel is almost intrinsic to my self, in a way!!

fictidomi

[PT: fictidomi /end PT]

original post: link terms i identify with: pokédomus (link)

this one is quite simple, honestly: i want to live in the pokémon world!! if i were a bit more prone to self psychoanalysis, i'd guess it stems from it being one of my sources, as well as another collective foundational special interest :-)

genders

[PT: genders /end PT]

terms i identify with: too many to list them all rip

oh boy, okay!! so, as far as i'm able to remember, i've always had some amount of gender fuckery going on, but none of the, shall we say, "mainstream" labels ever fully fit comfortably. it's been... refreshing, to be able to say that there are a lot of genders that fit, and having multiple labels feels so much better than being constrained to just one!!

the majority of my genders are related to my interests!! this is due to the fact that my interests, especially the biggest ones like an assortment of videogames, art, music, dinosaurs, and bugs, to name a few, often feel inextricable from my self, so it follows that my gender is also highly affected by them :-)

hearthomes

[PT: hearthomes /end PT]

original post: link terms i identify with: pokémon hearthic

as i mentioned in the fictidomi section, pokémon is a collective foundational special interest for us. we've been playing the games since we were 9, and watching content relating to it since before that. at this point, it is, no exaggeration, impossible to separate my self from pokémon.

i interact with pokémon, be it through playing the games or hearing the osts or what have you, and i feel at home. this isn't where i'm from literally, i recognize that, but it is where i'm from on every other level. it's my biggest source of comfort and emotional regulation, and it's really important to me that people around me know this and know that... it's so insanely important for us. it's really hard to put into words, but i adore this franchise and its universe is my home.

hoarding terms

[PT: hoarding terms /end PT]

terms i identify with: gender inventory (link)

okay so, i don't think this is an official umbrella? but it is useful for me to be able to visualize how my genders are... placed, so to speak!! for example, my hoard is on a notion database, and i like to imagine it's a little gallery with various terms hung up on the wall!!

in a vacuum, however, it's a lot harder to come up with these imaginations, especially since i have very low visual phantasia. this is why hoarding terms are so welcome to me!! it's especially welcome in the case of gender inventory, since- well, i know how the minecraft inventory works!! personally, i experience creative gender inventory specifically :-)

invianes

[PT: invianes /end PT]

original post: couldn't find any :-( please let me know if you have it tho!! terms i identify with: invidreenk (link)

okay this one is very specific to this specific term: i just think it's so me for reals, you know what i mean? it's silly and not my most serious of terms, but i didn't want to just exclude it rip

referral terms

[PT: referral terms /end PT]

terms i identify with: transboy (link)

while i imagine this isn't the original post for this term, and i doubt there's an official coining post for this, it's important to bring up nonetheless!! this links back to what i spoke about in the chronosian section, where my age is very fucky due to plurality, and thus i feel more comfortable calling myself a trans boy!! transmasc is still comfy tho :-)

systemhood

[PT: systemhood /end PT]

roles

[PT: roles /end PT]

terms i identify with: autism symptom holder (link)

so, for this one i'll explain more so how i experience this role!! i'm prone to feeling the symptoms of autism more intensely or more often than others in my collective; this doesn't mean the others don't experience them either, but just that i feel them more and more often. additionally, i am noticeably worse at masking than the rest of us

roleics

[PT: roleics /end PT]

original post: link terms i identify with: cringeroleic (link); autismroleic (link)

i'll start by explaining my autismroleic experience, since it's, rather simple: i'm an autism symptom holder!

it does, however, link into my experience with being cringeroleic: i came back from dormancy about a year ago when we were working through a lot of internalized cringe culture and such. my role back then, and still to this day, though it's less of a priority, was to embrace being cringe, and work through our feelings on it that way. a lot of interests and behaviours that have gotten us labeled as cringe have stemmed from our autism, too, which is why i say the two are interlinked.

umbrella terms

[PT: umbrella terms /end PT]

terms i identify with: monachoric (link)

monachoric fits me to a t. it's similar to pokémon, actually, in the sense that being monachoric simply spreads across all my self, to the point where separating my self from monachoric is impossible!! i'm just a weirdo teenager with cringe interests (/pos, all of this is a good thing), there's no splitting my general sense of self from monachism

xenonatures

[PT: xenonatures /end PT]

original post: link terms i identify with: pokénatured (link)

and, finally, xenonatures!! shocking no one who has read this far (thank you in advance if you have!! i know this has been long), pokémon is embeded in my sense of self very deeply, naturally a xenonature themed after pokémon would go STRAIGHT onto my hoard

ending comments

[PT: ending comments /end PT]

thank you in advance if you read this far!! i didn't expect to have this much to say, frankly. i hope it was enjoyable to read, and i hope this can help other people describe their identities :-)

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energys-writing-corner-ig · 10 months ago

Text

Main blog is @energylessartist

Idk how to write so expect a lot of bs

This exists cuz I wanted to write an au eventually and all I know is I wanted Jhad for some reason in it

Plz help me lol

Not an MD exclusive blog, despite the unintentional branding lol

Please send me your headcanons! I love seeing them!

Feel free to send me art - or suggest/offer other pfps at any time, I haven't fully settled on one yet

I am on mobile so notifications do sometimes just get eaten-

> current project: heal my relationship with writing, I've realized it's pretty bad atm :(

> next project: how tf do I do a hyperlink list? Idk. I'll find out.

Additional stuff under the cut lol

Gonna make a short list of what I've got I think:

MD Siren au - centered around my oc with the current nicknames Siren and Mouse but no official name yet

MD HD Thad - Thad is a Disassembly/Worker Drone hybrid!

MD Drone Tessa - Tessa was always a Drone - she was literally built to be how she is?

MD Eldritch Phoenix - the AS of canon ends up in an alternate timeline as a Drone baby/child on Copper-9 after losing to Uzi - what shenanigans will I put them up to??

MD Murder Puppy - Uzi (or someone else) finds a discarded and deactivated N somewhere and manages to reactivate him - with new code and admin perms that make him a protector to the Colony rather than an attacker of it!

MD: Ghost Codes - co-op project with @15depressedducks (ha, get tagged èwé)

MD: Solvent - something isn't as it seems... and someone else is pulling the strings

MD: Poverty - someone else adopts the original Host of the Absolute Solver... who are they and what will happen?

Adding some non-MD AUs I have:

Hello, Ninjago, I'm Seffi: a Ninjago AU that follows a Displaced-type protagonist - someone who was cosplaying their Serpentine hybrid oc at a con, bought a Serpentine General staff, and passed out to awaken in Ninjago. There are going to be a lot of ocs, a lot of headcanons, and a lot of noncanon things used as though they are canon

Ninjago: Species Swaps: a Ninjago AU where none of the Ninja are human :D (I am working on an entire new species for this)

Ninjago: Changed Elements: an AU I'm kinda working on cuz I don't particularly like how the Elemental Compass is set up :/ - also because I feel like Wojira should be powered by more by Lightning than by Wind, and that constitutes some serious Elemental Compass reconstruction lol

Ninjago: Demon amongst Snakes: au with an oc I made, who is an Oni that likes and has decided to take on the form of a Serpentine :)

Ninjago: Time's Redemption: au I wanna write where Acronix gets at least an attempt at a redemption arc. Really feel like he could've been a good guy...

Stories that I don't feel right calling AUs:

Minecraft; the Hub Worlds: a story of what can actually happen to your deleted worlds, and where they go. However, something has happened, and it's up to our protagonists to save the Core World and all the inhabitants!

Mine Wars!!!: it's got star wars elements and minecraft elements and uh idk screw you /j

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whatsthebird · 2 years ago

Text

FAQ

We've compiled a set of common questions that we hope to demystify through this page. If a question you have isn't listed here, shoot us an ask.

Submissions

Can I submit a photo for fun?

If it's your own bird photo, then it can be submitted as either a Bird ID photo or a Quiz Bird. Our General rule of thumb is, if you know what the bird is, then submit it as a bird quiz. If you don't know what bird it is, submit as a bird ID.

Are anonymous quiz submissions ok?

Absolutely! We just ask that you specify that you wish to stay anonymous, so that we don't think it's a Tumblr glitch.

Are submissions limited to America or some sort of specific regions?

Not at all. Submissions are open to anyone who's taken a bird photo.

How can I submit a subspecies or hybrid?

To make things easier on ourselves we are strictly following Clements Checklist for naming conventions of the answers. Extra information is always welcomed, but we will match the answer to whatever Clements recognizes.

Where's my submission?

It's possible we just haven't gotten to you yet. Each submission is selected via lottery, and scheduled two weeks out.

Additionally, not every submission will be used. Sometimes the image is lacking key identifiers, or the submission did not follow the guidelines.

Can you tell me if my submission won't make it on the quiz?

WTB will not be proactively reaching out to users. The lack of options to contact the person hinders our ability to do so. Multi person blogs can't direct message, and not every submitter has their ask box open. If you'd like, you can send us an ask about your bird's status that we will gladly answer.

I'm not American, do I still need to follow the ABA guidelines?

The American Birding Association code of birding is a general set of guidelines that can be practiced anywhere in the world. We expect our submitters to practice ethical birding while out photographing birds.

How high quality are the photos required to be?

We value all levels of photography. As long as the key identifying features are present in the photo, the photo can be used.

General

Is it okay to use resources?

Absolutely. This quiz isn't graded. Pull out whatever you want (apps, books, your grandma...) to help. If you're really stumped, throw a lifeline to your fellow players. Some have even been leaving hints in the tags.

How do I play?

Pick the correct answer choice. How you get to the correct answer is up to you. Play this game in a way that would be the most fun to you.

Why have a "None of the Above" answer, choice?

We wanted to a way to promote further discussion between players.

Blog

Are you accepting mods?

At the blog's current state, we have a proportionate amount of mods to work ratio. As the blog expands, we will reevaluate the needs and go from there.

I can't click any of the links, what's happening?

iOS users have been experiencing a bug where the hyperlinks to the submission button are unavailable. To accommodate, we have now allowed media asks.

#WTBGuide #FAQ

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bouncybrain · 6 months ago

Text

The Ellipsus Experience*

From someone who’s been using Google Docs for over a decade and LibreOffice for. Idk a year, probably.

*I don’t have a collaborator helping me out with this, so this is a solo-writer’s experience: please keep that in mind

Ellipsus is a writing website (not an app) that can be considered a collaborative alternative to Google Docs. They are [anti-AI] and don't plan on going back on this "barring significant regulatory changes." It has been compared both to Google Docs and LibreOffice. As stated above, I've used both of these other products (heavily) for a while and feel I'm properly familiar enough with both of them to say this one is... well deserving of the comparisons.

TL;DR

Ellipsus is essentially a GDocs/LibreOffice lovechild that is currently in open beta, works well, and I do recommend it as a Google Docs alternative for any collaborative needs just because it’s free and anti-AI, though it is only on par with LibreOffice so far as I can tell for solo work.

I was made aware of Ellipsus through a Blazed post here on Tumblr, though I haven't actually heard of it anywhere else, but I could just have completely and utterly forgotten if I'd ever seen them elsewhere. They also have a presence here on Tumblr, @ellipsus-writes, if you would like to have a browse for yourself.

All hyperlinks will be underlined and associated words will be between these [ ] brackets.

Getting Started

Ellipsus does not use a password system. You sign up/log in with your email, which will then send you a one-time code to get in. While signing up, the site asks a few questions while setting up, such as if you write with others (options boil down to yes, no, and not yet) and where you heard about Ellipsus from. You also initially choose your light mode/dark mode preference here. It can also use your system setting.

Once you’ve gotten through that, you’re taken to a document to introduce you to the features and capabilities of Ellipsus, though it doesn’t appear to really be… properly up-to-date… but it isn’t too badly divergent as to be too confusing (notably, there isn’t a “merge this draft” button to click like the doc tells you). It also offers several links to useful posts they’ve made to help you get started.

You will then be brought to the dashboard and unleashed.

Their layout is very simple, clean, and minimalist. There aren’t a thousand features, but sometimes you don’t need a thousand features. The site itself is easy to navigate and none of the toolbars or pages even look a little bit crowded, which is nice. Unfortunately, this does mean your settings are also very barebones. You can’t delete your account directly from the settings, but you can change your display name and email from the account settings page. Here, you can also download your logs or stored data. Unfortunately, though you can have an avatar/icon, you have to use Gravatar for it, with no exceptions. Other than that it displays the first two letters of the email associated with your account. This may be visible when collaborating with others.

On Desktop (and basics)

The dashboard (home page) shows your works, with a separate tab/page/button to show anything shared with you. Here is where you make new documents or manage existing ones, or make and manage folders.

Folders are named, and can have descriptions of their contents. They can be repeatedly nested for your highly-organized needs. (Or for organizing parts/arcs/chapters/etc. for your stories.) They can be bulk deleted by deleting the parent folder (the very first folder they’re all in).

When making a new document, you can either make a completely blank one or import a markdown (.md) file. Documents can be named here and renamed later. If you’re coming from Google Docs, you’ll have to use a desktop to download your documents as a markdown (.md) file in order to reupload it directly to Ellipsus. This is currently the only way to upload a file from elsewhere.

While writing, Ellipsus offers a focus mode (the cup icon) that will automatically hide all other panels/icons except for the outline (table of contents) and the icon to leave focus mode.

The other panels available are on the left- and right-hand sides of the screen. Both panels can be collapsed to increase screen space for the document. The right panel can be collapsed directly from within its additional menus through the arrow icon on the top left of the panel or returned to the expanded panel menu through the squares-in-a-square icon on the top right of the panel. It also has a keyboard icon (which the welcome doc calls a controller) to check available keyboard shortcuts, as well as a gear icon, both on the top right. (Will expand on the gear menu later.) The right panel also contains the “create a new draft” button, which becomes “compare changes” within drafts (expanded on later).

Formatting can be done through the bar on the bottom (basic* only) or through the formatting icon on the right panel. The default font is Literata and the default font size is 16pt. The default font color will change depending on your choice of light/dark mode, but you can pick from ten colors (nine, plus the default that changes per light/dark mode). If you don’t want to use the formatting bar/menu, markdown (like Discord) is also available for use while writing, and can be set to apply automatically.

Outline is simply a table of contents that allows you to jump between headers in your document. This makes it much easier to navigate a document, particularly if it’s long and you want to get from Point A to Point T but they’re a few tens of thousands of words apart (or more. Idk how much you write).

Find and replace is exactly that. It also has “match case,” “whole words only,” and “use regular expressions” toggles to better finess the find and replace experience.

Spellcheck will be elaborated on in the writing section.

Version history will open either the main document or the specific draft you’re on in a new page, where you can go between versions and pick on to overwrite with, if that’s what you want. I don’t fully understand how this works, but you can go through each day the document has been edited and pick a time you would like to replace the document with. These versions are saved at what appear to be every ten minutes of the clock, as every version of my stuff has shown only //:/0 am/pm as available within the version history.

Comments, chat, and collaborators will be expanded on in the collaborating section later.

Share and export is expanded on in the export section.

Document info becomes draft info when on a draft. This just gives you information like when it was made and last edited, as well as who edited it last and owns it (I think?). It also shows the word count, character count, and the estimated reading time.

The last option is “get support” and just opens to show you buttons to where to share feedback, find overviews/guides, or contact support from the team.

The left panel is where the main document and all associated drafts are kept. Remember to name your drafts appropriately so you don’t lose them; these can be duplicated, deleted, or renamed at any point.

*Basic formatting includes bold, italic, underline, and undo/redo. Ellipsus’s floating bar has these as well as a shortcut to the formatting menu, indent and unindent, and search. This is “basic formatting” for this review.

On Mobile

Since I first logged in on desktop, I’m not sure if this pops up when you do an initial login on mobile, but there was a pop-up that offered extra guidance in using the site on mobile, though I declined it. This is still a good feature, and not something you stumble on all the time. The site does look and work identically across devices, and the icons used are all identical. This is also a good thing.

On mobile, the basic formatting bar is moved to the top of the screen to account for pop-up keyboards, and side panels are hidden away. Thankfully, across screen sizes, the buttons for basic formatting aren’t absolutely tiny, though this does mean you may have to scroll to access parts of the basic formatting bar depending on the size of your display. The left panel has a “papers” icon on the top left, to the left of the cloud icon, and the right panel is within a “hamburger menu” (the three lines stacked on each other) on the top right, to the right of the bell icon (notifications for collaboration reasons).

Actually typing and working on mobile tends to be a bit buggy, but this is a beta so I’m not going to hold it against them. I’ll likely be using mobile as desktop through landscape full-screen on my iPad instead of vertically. The screen tends not to follow as you write, disappearing behind the basic formatting bar and/or the keyboard, which is a bit annoying. It says it will default to device settings with the double-spacing (expanded below) but doesn’t appear to always work on mobile.

Additionally

There are a few more settings on the right panel in the gear menu on the top right. These include features regarding smart formatting, collaboration, and display. This is the “editor settings” menu.

Smart formatting has quotes (from " to “ when typing quotation marks), ellipses (changing the three periods to one symbol …), markdown shortcuts (*and* such, like Discord), double-space period (tapping space twice will insert a period; unchecked will do as your device does), and en and em dashes (– and — from -; there is an option of “- - for —” or “- - for – as well as - - - for —”).

Collaboration has toggles for live cursors and collaborator avatars for when collaborators are viewing alongside you.

Display allows you to turn off the floating basic formatting bar (desktop/landscape only), turn on “invisible characters” (like paragraph symbols, spaces, etc.) or the word count, and is also where you can change from light/dark/system.

These additional settings (aside from light/dark/system) apply across your account, so you don’t have to do it per device as with other settings.

Actually Writing* With Ellipsus

*I used pre-written things for this review

Ellipsus synchronizes practically immediately. I don’t have anyone else to do this with, but between my own account on different devices, there’s a negligible amount of lag, which is notable considering my laptop is currently trying to die on me.* Different users** (or yourself on another device) are flagged with a colorful live cursor with their display name attached, which moves accordingly and swiftly to wherever they are in the doc, including if they’re navigating through the text using the arrows on their keyboard (for mobile hiding the keyboard might not remove your cursor, and for desktop opening a different window will not remove your cursor). When the other user** (or, again, yourself) highlights something, it is replicated in yellow for the other. The highlighting is surprisingly reactive and can follow per-letter (again, between me, myself, and I).

Spellcheck can add languages, has “accept” or “ignore all” options, offers multiple suggestions for (detected) misspellings, remembers what was “ignored” after leaving the document and returning. This has to be run through for every device you open the document on, which is a pain when you have fifty characters who have names the dictionary has beef with. The English dictionary appears to be on par with LibreOffice (disappointing) (the “se” in “per se” gets marked) (fanfiction will be painted in red). Detected misspellings (whether they are or aren’t) are both underlined and highlighted in red; the “first” detected misspelling with have both a highlight and an underline, but subsequent instances (“inactive” instances that you do not have selected) will only be underlined.

Additional languages currently available (Jan 2025) consist of: English (US, AUS, GB, CA), German, Spanish, French, Italian, Korean, Dutch, Russian, Polish, Portuguese, and Ukrainian.

If you want to change the font or text size, it currently (Jan 2025) applies across the entire document or draft’s corresponding paragraph style. This means the only way to have differently-sized portions in your document at this time is to have an individual paragraph with a different paragraph style (headings 1 through 4, paragraph/body, caption) applied, as they all have different font sizes associated with them.

There is also an optional word count displayed at the top of the screen next to the focus mode icon/notifications (depending on long or tall screen). It does display the word count with commas where appropriate.

My most favorite feature is that you can tab indent the start of your paragraphs. I’m not even kidding I love that so much. I don’t actually like the double-spacing (hitting the enter key twice for a new paragraph) format I do for fanfiction even though it looks better on AO3 that way, but having the ability to insert a tab indent just once and have it automatically carry through to each following paragraph…….. that’s so tasty. I’ve always hated writing on mobile because there’s usually no tab!!! It’s just there on Ellipsus!

Drafts are like a copy of the main document at the time of the draft’s creation. These are stored on the left panel menu and can be accessed simply by clicking them. This is useful more so for collaboration or when you’re struggling to pick an idea you like more. You can create these at any point, and merge them into the main document in order to make the content of the main document match that of the draft chosen.

Drafts can be compared to the main document through the “compare changes” page, accessible either from the “…” menu attached to the draft card on the left panel, or through the button on the right panel when you’re already in the draft. This “compare changes” page is where you’ll be able to do just that; additions are highlighted in green and anything removed is highlighted in red. On mobile you have to swap between the draft and the main document with the highlighted changes, but it’s laid out side-by-side on desktop. You can merge a draft with the main document from here.

You can also just make an empty draft and use it for things like notes and outlines and all that good stuff. They don’t have to be merged at any point. If you want a blank draft, though, you’ll either have to delete the whole doc within the draft or make a base blank draft at the start of your doc’s lifespan to later duplicate to edit when you need/want a blank draft.

*The responsiveness between me, myself, and I is notable because Google Docs lags so much for no reason, even if it’s just yourself on different devices in the same room. I’m doing this across three different browsers (Firefox, Safari, and DuckDuckGo) and three different devices (actively dying Windows laptop, iPhone, and iPad) it’s reactive and barely stutters, as opposed to how Google Docs needs to think about it across… itself (mobile app and Chrome browser, even!). Yes, I tested it to be sure.

**Disclaimer, again, I do not have friends to collaborate with to test otherwise.

Available Fonts

Here are all the currently available fonts (defaulted to 16pt when using the paragraph/body style). Photos* of just a few included because I’m doing this on mobile Tumblr and I can only use a few images so I’m picky. Also, this is all on dark mode, and the text color would be black if I were on light mode.

Baskerville

Caveat (#1)

Comic Neue

Courier Prime

EB Garamond

Inter

Literata (default font)

Merryweather

Monteserrat

Open Dyslexic

Raleway

Whatever this is? Doctor handwriting? Cursive Russian? (#2)

Roboto Mono

Sylexiad Serif (#3)

Ubuntu Mono

*Excerpt used is from the original concept Maddox and Li Hua, my ex-military dragon dad and his dragon daughter, were used in. It was originally in outside POV before I got bored with Darren. Sorry, Darren. (He’s still present later, just not as the POV character anymore.)

Importing

If you have a markdown (.md) file on hand, then go ahead.* Everything else you’re going to have to copy/paste in. Copy/paste will not automatically tab indent paragraphs like I extolled above even if there was a tab indent in the original text copied. The font will likely change to fit whatever you’re using on Ellipsus (it did for me between Liberation Serif -> Literata and Helvetica -> Literata) but it also won’t remove every single bit of formatting, so it’s not a completely exasperating exercise to copy/paste your works over. It won’t copy over things like headings properly, either, though that’s much less of a hassle than having to go back through and add all your italics back in.

For the sake of this review I did make my very first markdown (.md) file and... I honestly don't know what happened but about half of it was stuck in the "code" mode in the formatting section, which I couldn't figure out how to undo, outside of just copying the text (triple-clicking/tapping would select everything within the code block) and pasting it as plain text (ctrl/cmd+shift+v). I'm not sure you can paste as plain text on mobile (couldn't figure it out myself) so I, personally, am not going to be doing a whole lot of uploading previous stuff to Ellipsus. Other than this, importing a single-spaced (hitting the enter key once for a new paragraph) document will merge everything into a "single" paragraph, so I had to go through and separate all my paragraphs again so I could properly indent/unindent/apply other formatting as needed. I'll just completely re-type or batch copy/paste everything else in the future so I can have a better grip on the formatting.

*As stated way up at the start, you can upload a text file to Google Drive, open it in Docs (which makes into a .docx file, which they're working on allowing you to import as well), and then download that file as a .md file. This requires a desktop you can download/upload from. If you've never done this before, you can download as .md (and other file types) through the "File -> Download" section on an open document.

Exporting

This is accessed through the document directly instead of on the dashboard. It’s under “share and export” on the default right-hand panel menu.

You can “share” through two different methods. You can share a link to a document (logged-in users only or anyone with the link), which only allows for viewing the doc with zero editing abilities, and the entire document will be visible. The other option is a “snippet,” which is primarily what you’ll see pictures of when browsing the Ellipsus tag here; it’s a .png of a selected section of text* to create a slightly more interesting excerpt of what you’re working on. This helps your excerpt stand out without having to make it yourself. Example of a snippet with the default white background color:

(Snippets will export in only this font, but you can choose to keep any colored text.)

Exporting the entirety of the main document can be done by downloading as a PDF or markdown (.md) file. You can also copy it as HTML, markdown (.md), or rich text (.rtf). Most notable is a direct export to AO3 button! Ellipsus might tell you your blorbo’s name is spelled wrong, but it’ll let you upload your fic straight from the draft. ([Here’s] the official post about it.)

*You MUST make a selection of text in order to make a snippet; it won’t work if you don’t highlight anything for it to process. It also might be a bit slow, but a bit of patience will get you your .png to share.

Collaborating

… aha. I don’t know anyone currently using Ellipsus to review this with. Here’s paraphrased info off this [link].

Collaborating is done through email: your collaborator(s) have to have an Ellipsus account in order to actually work on the document. Inviting collaborators is done through entering their email, which will send them a link, which will bring them to the site where they will either make an account or log in to access the document. The owner of the document therefore knows the email of any and all collaborators, though other collaborators will only be able to see everyone’s display names. Collaborators can be given one of two roles with different permission levels: “can merge” means they can merge drafts into the main document, edit the main document, create drafts, as well as everything the next level can do; “can edit” can create drafts, edit existing drafts, and use the chat/comments features. Collaborators cannot invite or manage collaborators. Document owners can remove collaborators or change their role/access level at any time.

Information from Discord says this might be laggy and buggy, but the staff is looking into it.

Comments can be left through highlighting parts of the doc/drafts. Chat is a live chat to use while working together, or something, because I can’t test that.

Extras!

Their Discord server consists mostly of adults (age 18 or over) and offers opportunities to find collaborators of all stripes that also use Ellipsus. It has nearly 1600 members at the time of writing, though not everyone has chosen their roles, but of the approximately 500 reactions on the bot’s age role message, only nearly 40 chose the “under 18” role. It is a fairly active social space for the size, and doesn’t have an absolute hoard of channels. There’s even an art channel, with the description reading “original, human-powered art or credited or linked to the respective artist.”

They have a [blog] with resources/templates you can use to get started. You have to scroll through to find them since you can’t sort by the resource tag, but they’re pretty good templates for worldbuilding, story planning, and character information. I would recommend saving these as individual docs on their own and then copy/pasting the templates into the drafts of your stories to keep the information connected to the main doc you’re using it for. (Don’t forget to appropriately name all your drafts so you don’t lose anything.)

They have been in open beta since May 2024. There were apparently nine months of closed beta before this. They are also a former sponsor of NaNoWri(teNo)Mo(re) but [dropped them] when they made the stupid announcement about AI (2024).

Yes, you can use emojis on Ellipsus. Yes, you can have your leads text 🥴 to each other.

They are ellipsus_writes on Twitter/X and TikTok, ellipsuswrites on Instagram, and ellipsus-writes here on Tumblr (as mentioned way back at the start).

#ellipsus #BOUNCY. REVIEW.#if you wanna help me test ellipsus's collaborative abilities hmu asks and dms are open #review #site review #writers on tumblr #writeblr #queer writers #writer stuff #original writing #writing #writers #fanfic #fanfic writing #writing community #writerscommunity #writers community

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luvahhart · 5 months ago

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You Wound me!

A/N: HEYY GUYSS, ITS LUVA! Uhm so for some clarification people in this fanfic are real (they're my teachers💀🙏) I wrote this for them out of literal boredom and I hope none of my classmates or teachers find this cus I'm literally fucked anyway here's my sir Christopher x sir Janry fanfic, enjoy and for my classmates reading this, I'm so sorry and if ever my teachers actually see this I'm sorry please don't fail me (AU: FLATMATES)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Christopher had been working in a simple school for as long as he can remember and everyday was the same, deal with kids, teach, and if lucky a kid gets sent to guidance and he'll have to deal with it but there was always one thing he enjoyed going to work for, his bestfriend Janry whom he'd liked for so long but never had the guts to tell him but little did he know that was about to change in a few hours. "Yo, were you able to get the test papers printed?" The shorter man approached as Christopher counted the mentioned test papers. The vibe that came from Janry felt quite wrong, it was something unexplainable yet so understandable. Some sort of enigmatic feeling, but it was a busy day and the taller man didn't wanna waste his time spiraling down on weird feelings and boys "yeah yeah, for what section now?" He asked, handing the test papers to the shorter man and in the process; Janry's hands brush up against his and for some reason it sent chills everywhere, it was just simple contact what was happening? He took a deep breath and caught his composure "android, and you?" Christopher was stuck up on a thought (it's just physical contact sir💀🦅) Janry waited for an answer simply thinking that Christopher just didn't have enough coffee today or barely none at all "have you had coffee today?" Janry asked and the taller man snapped out of it "uh- yeah, hyperlink" he answered. And walked away for another hellish stay in a classroom with potentially brain-dead students.

Time Skip; After Class (6:20pm)

Felicilda came home to their flat, seeing Ferrer sitting on the couch reading a book. Janry had a rough day, obviously when some kid drew a big cock on the test paper. He threw his bag on the floor and slammed the door shut. Christopher knowing what was going on with Janry, asked "rough day?" Only a mere 'hm' escaped the tired man's throat. Ferrer sort of unconsciously moved his legs for the man to sit beside him as Felicilda slumped down almost falling asleep as he heaved a sigh "how was today?" Christopher asked, knowing damn well what his answer was yet he felt obligated to ask "tiring, some kid in section Qwerty Drew a cock on the test paper but.. whatever" he muttered "that's it?" Christopher asked "ah well, my girlfriend called me up telling me she cheated and had been cheating ever since we got together"---for some odd reason all Christopher could think of was 'I could've treated you better' but hey.. He doesn't mean it that way, does he?

"I could've treated you better" he blurted out of nowhere "Of course you could" no denial? Crazy. Janry melted into the couch as he slowly fell asleep, Christopher watched intently, untintentionally couting the freckles on his aged face, the bags and crows feet that began to grow around the eyes. Rough and hard features compared to Christophers softer and younger looking features, his face rivalled the war in his heart. He felt as though when he was near Janry, the world stopped leaving only the two. He noticed he'd been staring too long and jumped up from the couch "Can't wake him up, can't move him to his room.. what can I do..." Janry settled sound asleep on the couch, Ferrer went to fetch a blanket thinking as he did 'I wonder if he'd be keen on taking my last name if ever... Oh I can't be thinking this. Plenty of other girls he could fall in love with' he dragged along towards the sleeping teacher and draped the blanket lazily over him to protect him from the unforgiving cold of their quiet flat. He brushed a calloused hand over the other man's forehead and kissed it softly "you wound me.." He whispered softly as he settled on the floor just right beside Janry and he too fell asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

A/N: HIII EVERYONE!1!!! NOTICE HOW THE WRITING STYLE CHANGED? Yeah thats cuz I wrote this a year ago. I recently just got into college so obvi new profs. ANYWAY THX FOR READING THIS YAYAYAYAAY

#teacher x teacher #real people #real person fiction #satire #for fun #mlm #male x male #fanfic #friends to lovers #fluff #fluffy #soft

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thevoidstaredback · 7 months ago

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And with that, you all are now completely caught up with Ao3!

I've been deliberating for a while on whether or not I should do this or just leave y'all here with only 8 of 30 parts, and I finally decided to just give y'all the full story. That way, if someone doesn't have or can't access Ao3 for some reason, they have something to read! (Among millions of other posts and stories on here)

None of the hyperlinks (aside from Part 8) are actually connected yet, though I'll get on that as soon as possible.

Anyone subscribed to this story's masterpost will be getting a notification from that as soon as I have everything linked up on there. You'll also notice another Side Story title has been added. You'll get a notif for when that one goes up, too, and you can thank Ao3 for that.

I'm currently working on the last three chapters. As soon as they're up on Ao3, I'll post them here, too, so be on the lookout for those throughout today (and maybe tomorrow, though I doubt that)

I think that's all I have to say..?

Oh! I'm scheduling these all ahead of time (about an hour before hand) and then going to sleep, so I'll see ya whenever I wake up <2

xoxo

#I say that like my alarm won't go off as this very note is posting

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delaluna · 1 year ago

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Eine Kleine [Kenshi Yonezu]

Eine Kleine - English translation

As existing translations don't particularly reflect the ideas I used for my own adaptation into English, I decided to translate it as a reference for others.

Please feel free to use these or to inform me of mistakes! The official upload is hyperlinked in the title below.

Eine Kleine

I'm truly so glad to have met you And yet it all remains as sad as it's ever been Now, these painfully happy memories that I harbor Take us towards the farewell they'll inevitably bring about

If I were to live taking somebody else's place, Then, I'd much rather become a pebble Thus, there would be no misunderstandings nor deceit, And even you wouldn't take notice of me

Although I'd like to convey all of my thoughts to you, I say I have secrets I can't tell anyone, and wind up lying instead I'm so much more spineless than you could ever think me to be, So why is it, then?

If you could remain, despite my torn seams and unyielding woes, Just how glad I would be to say "It's alright" with a smile? As everything before my eyes seems to blur and melt away, Even a downpour of miracles would come short To you having called my name

If you were to lose your place and wander, Then, perhaps, someone else should take my place Now, as we put on a carefully crafted, imperceptible pretense, We'll surely laugh as it all plays out over again

As much as I vow and as much as I pray, I only have pitiful dreams In which the slightest strain winds swallowing you up I'm infinitely more worthless than you could ever think me to be, So why is it, then?

Please, may I overcome the nights I've never, ever been able to get through So that we may carry on to the days where we link our hands together In order to see brilliant colors, even through my closed eyelids, What could I possibly do? Would you let me call your name?

From the very moment I was born, I bawled out "I want to disappear now" And ever since, I'd been looking For the one I'd meet someday, For none other than you

Would you let me call your name?

#translation #eine kleine #kenshi yonezu

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golmac · 2 years ago

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Inform Basics: Debugging Continued

Wow, it's so late for me to type this up! And I haven't even reblogged the last post. Sorry everybody, I've had stuff going. This will be a short one.

So in today's post, let's just talk a little more about actions. We talked a looong time ago about looking things up in the index. That's a crucial thing to practice. ACTIONS can be a shortcut to not only troubleshooting but figuring out how to phrase a rule. Let's say we are trying to do some new rules related to scoring and points in a game we're updating, but we aren't quite sure how the rules connect.

> score [death counting] You have not yet made meaningful progress.

Total Fail States Discovered: 0 out of 33.

Nineteen Eighty: 0 out of 2.

At this point in the narrative, the maximum possible score is 2.

[death counting - succeeded]

Ok! The relevant action is "death counting". We can jump into making rules right away.

Before death counting: if the player is hungry: Try eating a healthy breakfast.

(as a reminder, BEFORE rules don't stop the action unless we add "instead" to the rule)

Some more apparently arcane actions can be identified this way, as a recent forum post illustrated:

> restart [restarting the game]

The action for restarting is "restarting the game." We can use that to add some synonyms, or have other actions kick it off. We could add text, but that is a whole different can of worms. Mess with it and see for yourself!

What else? Another command I use all the time is SHOWME. If you enter it alone at the command line, you will get a list of every object in the room with us (note that this only works in the IDE or in test releases). Look out, it's the surprisingly crowded bathroom from Repeat the Ending:

> showme Bathroom - room a part of the body - backdrop Light - backdrop Grues - backdrop R1 - backdrop the air - backdrop Love - backdrop Energy - backdrop hair - backdrop ceiling - backdrop walls - backdrop trailer floor - backdrop bathroom door - open door bathroom door doorknob (part of bathroom door) yourself - PC ENTROPIC NUDGE - bleedsource pair of boxer shorts (worn) white t-shirt (worn) - Shirt toilet - supporter bathroom cabinet faux drawers (part of bathroom cabinet) bathroom countertop (part of bathroom cabinet) bathroom sink (part of bathroom countertop) bathroom faucet (part of bathroom sink) cabinet doors (part of bathroom cabinet) leak shower - open container bathroom mirror reflection ANEMIC DRIBBLE

(did you know there were grues in RTE?)

We can also find all of these things in the Index (with hyperlinks as usual), but they aren't listed by room. SHOWME is a great help for looking at local problems. We can drill down a bit, too.

> showme toilet toilet - supporter location: in the Bathroom unlit, inedible, fixed in place, scenery, unsheltering, notlockable, perfectable; transparent; singular-named, improper-named description: "The toilet, like the rest of our home, exudes an aura of misspent fortitude. It has been here a long time, and has nothing but water stains to show for it." initial appearance: none carrying capacity: 100 printed name: "toilet" printed plural name: "supporters" indefinite article: none list grouping key: none

With this, we can investigate the properties of any object in the room. This isn't in the Index, which makes the SHOWME command an indispensable troubleshooting tool.

Next time, a few more commands that are mostly related to play.

#inform 7 #interactive fiction #parser #i7 for beginners #i am not a programmer irl

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theastriangamer · 2 years ago

Note

HEY EVERY !! IT'S ME!!! EV3RY BUDDY 'S FAVORITE [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997]] SPAMT SPAMTON G. SPAMTON!! WOAH!! IF IT ISN"T A… LIGHT nER! HEY-HE Y HEY!!! LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE [[All Alone On A Late Night?]] ALL YOUR FRIENDS, [[Abandoned you for the slime]] YOU ARE? SALES, GONE DOWN THE [[Drain]] [[Drain]]?? LIVING IN A GODDAMN GARBAGE CAN??? WELL HAVE I GOT A [[Specil Deal]] FOR LONELY [[Hearts]] LIKE YOU!! IF YOU'VE [[Lost Control Of Your Life]] THEN YOU JUST GOTTA GRAB IT BY THE [[Silly Strings]] WHY BE THE [Little Sponge]] WHO HATES ITS [[$4.99]] LIFE WHEN YOU CAN BE A [[BIG SHOT!!!]] [[BIG SHOT!!!!]] [[BIG SHOT!!!!!]] THAT'S RIGHT!! NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A [[BIG SHOT]]!! AND I HAVE JUST. THE THING. YOU NEED. THAT'S [[Hyperlink Blocked]] YOU WANT IT. YOU WANT [[Hyperlink Blocked]] DON'T YOU. WELL HAVE I GOT A DEAL FOR YOU!! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SHOW ME. YOUR [[HeartShapedObject]]. YOU'RE LIGHT neR< AREN'T YOU? YOUVE GOT THE [[LIGHT.]] WHY DON'T YOU [[Show it off?]]

*accidentally just has the copypasta*

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

Fuck you

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spellbound-multi · 1 year ago

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MY C.AI BOTS

so… here they are, separated by fandoms

I do take requests btw! just shoot me an ask and I’ll see what I can do. Right now the fandoms below are the ones I’m most willing to do, but please send along any character you’d like!

X FILES:

trans!Fox Mulder (dysphoria day)

trans!Fox Mulder (top surgery recovery)

trans!Dana Scully (WIP)

TORCHWOOD

none, yet. check back soon!

AUBREY PLAZA CHARACTERS

Riley Johnson: (it won’t let me hyperlink for this one bear with me 💀)

NBC HANNIBAL

Alana Bloom

#txf #the x files #torchwood #nbc hannibal #c.ai bots #aubrey plaza

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sparkshwa · 3 years ago

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alternative dispute resolution (yeosang x reader)

pairing: yeosang x fem! reader

genre: a little angst, a little fluff, smut

genre & rating/warnings : smut (18+ dni minors), a sprinkle of fluff, a little angst, just vanilla, dirty talk, fingering, cussing, arguments, please feel free to tell me if i missed something to put as a warning.

synopsis: it’s been years since you’ve last seen your ex, yeosang. seeing him again after leaving without any goodbyes, oh boy! you already know it’s gonna be difficult for you, and your unresolved feelings for him. wordcount: 4.5k

→ this is another installment of ateez law firm series. just click on the hyperlink to find the other parts of this series. this can be read separately from the other parts of this series. this is only a work of fiction, and does not represent yeosang in any way.

Taglist: @junglewoos @bettyschwallocksyee @glossyeon @cosmicmount @feedme-later @teezers99

✰ start ✰

You nervously walked towards the conference room. Your lawyer, Attorney Jeon, assured you that you can settle this without going to the court. But little did he know that it wasn’t the lawsuit that has been bothering you ever since you’ve entered this building, it’s your ex from years ago. Kang Yeosang, or should you say Attorney Kang.

You didn’t feel relieved when your lawyer mentioned that he’s the lawyer who will be representing the opposite party about a week ago. The closer you are towards the door of the conference room, the more you feel nervous. It’s not like you’ll have a confrontation about your past, right?

Right. Just business. Just legal talk. That’s it.

This would have been better if you left him a proper closure or goodbye a few years ago, instead of leaving the country and basically just ghosting him after your three years of relationship. You left him right before he started his third year in law school. Now, you’ll be seeing him again, and it’s too late for you to regret.

The employee of the building opened the door for you to enter and it caused you to panic a little. Taking a step back and just hoping he’d be less handsome than he was years ago so you won’t swoon all over again. But you highly doubt that. His facial features are god-like!

You entered the conference room and exhaled out of relief that he wasn’t there waiting, and disappointed also. The anticipation died a little as the employee told you to wait for a while as Attorney Kang is still about to come to the conference room. You just agreed and began looking at the view outside the glass window.

This building isn’t bad for a new firm. You’ve heard about their law firm. It's only new, if you’ve heard it right it’s been just two years since they’ve started. However, they are representing big clients, big companies. It didn’t surprise you as some of them came from influential families. Yeosang really made it happen with his law school friends.

You can’t help but feel proud about him. You have known him since college. Both of you attended business school together. He’s quiet, but charming and witty. He’s shy for most of the time, but when given the opportunity his words will cut you like a knife. He has his way with words. Maybe that’s why he wanted to become a lawyer. The moment you knew about his desire to become one, you knew he’d be great and every person he’d be up against will be at his mercy. Which you are, right now.

You squeezed your eyes shut and just clenched your jaws. This will be all over soon. All you have to do is have this settlement, compensate the other party if ever needed.

Ever since you’ve handled your family’s company, all you have are meetings and paperworks. Most parts of the job are reconciliation.

“Ms. Y/n, do you want me to get you some water?” Your expression softened as your lawyer called your attention. “Yes, please. Thank you, Attorney Jeon.”

Your lawyer was kind enough to go out of the conference room for a while to get you bottled water. Your lawyer doesn’t know about your history with Yeosang yet. And you’re just praying that none in this building would.

Yeosang won’t make it personal. Right?

You heard the door swing open and was about to say thank you to your lawyer, but it wasn’t Attorney Jeon. Instead, a man with blonde hair holding a cup of coffee entered the room. He wasn’t staring at you, but you surely are staring at him.

He dyed his hair blonde. Kang Yeosang?!

You almost choked at your own saliva. Seeing him in his office attire, and his blonde hair pushed back with a bit strand of his hair sticking, hanging on his forehead. He’s so gorgeous.

Too much for praying that he’d be less handsome when you see him today.

“Ms. Y/n, good morning.” he’s deep voice vibrated through the room which made your heart skip a beat. That voice. You miss it, you can’t even deny that. The voice that soothed you way back when you were still together.

“Good morning, Ye- Attorney Kang.” You managed to reply. It feels weird being so professional around him. You called him Attorney Kang for the first time today. It must’ve felt nice if you were there to call him that when he got admitted to the bar.

It’s too late for regrets now. You’ve left him without saying goodbye, nor even a proper breakup. Those three years of being with him were thrown away when you boarded that plane after your brother’s mess. You can’t even explain everything to Yeosang that time. After your brother’s embezzlement scandal, your phone was confiscated and you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else, not even your closest friends. You got caught up in somebody else’s problem, and now you're the one trying to piece it all up together– your family’s business, reputation, and even yourself, and maybe if fate allows, your relationship with Yeosang.

You’d be lying to yourself if after those years of being away from him didn’t drive you mad. Miss him. Crave for him. He’s nothing but attentive and gentle to you. Know what you need and what runs through your mind. He even knows your favorites and what food you want when you're on your period. His memory recall impressed you the moment you sat beside him in a subject when you were in college. Moreso, he memorized every detail of you, and you adored him so much for that. And missed him so much for that.

After a few moments, he finally had his gaze on you. His eyes were empty and emotionless, he just scanned you as if confirming if you’re physically there. He then clenched his jaw, before pulling out the chair to sit down. “So, where’s your lawyer?”

“He’s umm…He got out for a while to get me water. What about your client? Where are they?”

You tried your best to maintain a professional, yet non- hostile kind of tone. Afterall, you’re going to try your best to close this settlement and pay Yeosang’s client so that they won’t push a lawsuit against your company.

“They won’t be coming. They won’t settle with what you have proposed. But I’ll discuss the further details with you, once your lawyer shows up.”

Attorney Jeon came into the conference room with your bottled water and you began your discussion for the settlement. The lawyers exchanged a lot of arguments, professional ones. Your lawyer wants you to pay lower than what was proposed by Yeosang’s client.

But as you’ve expected, Yeosang wants what his client wants. The whole time, Yeosang won’t let you speak. When you try to say something, he cuts you off immediately. He only looked at you three times, ever since you’ve started. He made you feel like you did not matter in this meeting at all.

You felt angry, confused, insulted even. It was as if he was doing all of that on purpose. Your chest felt heavy from all the emotions you’ve gathered. You couldn’t help but clench your fist and crumpling your white slacks, which Attorney Jeon noticed.

Attorney Jeon let out a sigh and asked Yeosang for a break, a little time just to sort things out. You were glad when they both agreed.

***

You remained at the conference room with your lawyer. Yeosang went out a little to grab something in his office. A few minutes passed and your lawyer finally asked the question you were praying not to hear today.

“Miss Y/n, I don’t mean to be rude or to interrupt your personal private life. Do you know Attorney Kang, by chance?”

“It’s okay, Attorney Jeon. I-” you paused for a while. Deciding if it's better to be honest with your lawyer about your personal life. It will probably be better since he might help you with this whole process. “He’s actually my ex.” And there it was, out in the open. He just nodded in response.

“He was the last guy I dated before my brother decided it’s okay to piss people off and risk everything. I was serious about Yeosang. I loved him. But I left without saying anything to him because my family got threats from…people.”

Telling your lawyer about your past with Yeosang and about the unfortunate events that led you to walk away from your relationship with him made you feel sad. But you held yourself together. For all those years, you’ve become stronger and now is not the time to shed a tear. You need to finish this meeting.

“I know this might be too much. But maybe you can use that to persuade Attorney Kang, Miss Y/n.”

You turned your head to your lawyer. He looks so serious right now. What does he mean by “persuade” Yeosang?

“Just talk to him, privately. Or have dinner with him. Your assets aren’t enough to cover what the opposite side wants. Maybe Yeosang can persuade his client, if you are to succeed in persuading him first.”

At some point, you know he is right. Maybe if you could straighten things out with him, reconcile what happened in the past. Maybe, it can solve most of your problems.

***

The meeting went on again for less than an hour. Nothing has come to an agreement, yet. So the lawyers decided to end it for now and get on it again as soon as possible, both of them don’t want to appear in court.

Yeosang politely left the room after saying his goodbyes. Meanwhile, your lawyer said he’ll be taking a taxi to go somewhere urgent, and it seemed urgent as he was scrambling through his bag for his phone after the meeting. And there you were, left in the lobby of the building.

What Attorney Jeon has advised you earlier made you think about going up to Yeosang to talk. You played with your fingers for a while until you’ve finally mustered up the courage to ask for Yeosang’s office. An employee politely guided you to where his office is in this building. You got in the elevator and pressed 42.

Few minutes later, you’ve arrived at the 42nd floor of the building. The secretary looked at you and smiled. “Hello, ma’am. How may I help you?”

“Umm I’m looking for Attorney Kang? Kang Yeosang. I’m- It’s urgent” You voice didn’t come out as shaky as you'd imagined. But you still can’t hide that you are in fact nervous. The secretary dialed somebody on her phone, and she asked for your name, which you quickly gave her.

The secretary put down her phone and politely asked you to follow her to his office.

Now, you’re just hoping you’ll get something positive from this.

The door opened, and there, sat this blonde man behind his desk, filled with papers and files. His office is big, but the space was filled with unorganized stuff. You remembered how you used to go to his apartment before and arrange everything for him. He can be a mess sometimes.

The secretary left, which scared you a little. You haven’t really sorted everything out. What are you going to tell him? How is this conversation going to go?

“Y/n?” He spoke your name and it sent shivers down your spine. The room was quiet as he put down his paper and the rustling noise was gone. “H-Hi” you managed to say. He raised his brow on you expecting for you to say something more than a simple “hi”.

“Yeosang. I-” You were cut short when he stood up from his swivel chair to walk toward your direction. You cleared your throat and his steps were put into a halt. “As I was saying, I’m here to explain something. Something that I should’ve explained to you years ago.”

“Y/n, that was years ago. Please” He shook his head and returned to his desk to lean on it as he looked at you with a smug look. “You left me, and I waited for you to say something to me first. But I just heard everything on the news weeks later.”

You felt embarrassed but you choked it all up because for years you’ve been dying to have this conversation. Finally explain yourself to him.

“Yeosang, I’m sorry. But it wasn’t easy for me to leave you, leave everything behind. The next day, my parents just woke me up and told me that we needed to leave the country and our company is going down because of my brother's embezzlement scandal and gambling problems. We received threats and- I-”

Before you could realize tears were running down from your eyes down to your cheeks. Relieving those moments in your head still affects you until this day. You were young, and you just started working for your company. When the whole thing blew up, you were left alone. No friends, not even your family because they were busy trying to fix the mess that your brother made. You can’t even call your boyfriend, even if you needed him so badly during those times.

Yeosang’s expression softened and quickly walked towards you to hold you in his arms. He held you tightly and patted your head. The comfort that you were seeking for years is now here.

You cried in his arms for a while. You looked up at him. He still looks the same, his statue-like features, his soft lips, and beautiful eyes. Except for his blonde hair, he’s the same man you fell in love with years ago. Same warmth and comfort. “Stop looking at me like that.” he said while pushing your head back into his chest, cutting your view short. “Why? I- I’ve missed you, Yeosang.” you managed to say while sniffling. “No, y/n. Stop this. Stop saying things like this and then leave me again without any goodbye.”

His straightforwardness felt like a stab into your chest. You really hurt him when you left him. He still cares for you, but. But.

You pulled away slightly from his arms. The warmth was quickly dissolved in the cold air that was surrounding his office. You gave him a warm smile and planted a kiss on his cheeks. He stood there frozen as your face remained close to his. “Goodbye.”

***

A week passed after your encounter with your ex. Your lawyer hasn't updated you yet regarding your negotiation with this company who’s planning on filing a suit on your company. Also, ever since you’ve said your goodbye to Yeosang, you’ve been feeling blue all over again.

So today, you’ve decided to hit the gym near your apartment. It’s just a few blocks away and you need to get a lot of things out of your system. The sun is yet to rise, it’s so early in the morning. It was only a quick trip to the gym.

You came back to your apartment still sticky and sweaty from the gym. It’s still 5 in the morning. Yes, it’s that early!

A familiar figure stood in front of your apartment door. “Excuse me? Hello?”

The man looked at you, and it was Yeosang.

“Y/n. I-” he looked so confused. A deer stuck in the headlights. He shook his head and walked past you. “I just came by but I think I have to go. I’m sorry.” you quickly grabbed his hands to stop him from walking away. “You can come in if you want.” you softly said, and he quietly nodded.

You guided him inside your apartment, still with your hand holding his. “We can talk here while I cook for breakfast.” You settled inside your kitchen.

You were about to let go of his hands so you can start cooking but he pulled your body close to his. A gasp came out from your mouth because of the sudden contact. “Y-Yeosang?”

He didn’t answer, instead he leaned towards your face and kissed you on your lips. You blinked a couple of times as you digested what’s happening right now. You managed to push him a little, but you're still caged in between his arms with your back leaning on the kitchen aisle.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/n. I just can’t. I wish you never left me. I wish you could’ve told me everything. I could’ve waited for you to come back.” you looked at him and tears were running down his soft cheeks. “Oh, Yeosang.” you wiped his tears away and held his face on your palms. You held his beautiful face and made him look at you.

“I still love you, Y/n. I tried moving on from you, but it’s you.”

You don’t know if it’s the look in his eyes, or the way he confessed to you, or because of how you miss him, but it felt like you never lost Yeosang after all those years. He is still yours. Your Yeosang. You smiled and pulled his face for a kiss.

His soft lips moved against yours, slowly, savoring every second of the kiss. He held your waist and pulled you even closer as he deepened the kiss. He licked your bottom lip as he asked for you to let him in and you gladly did.

You let yourself lose in his mouth until a moan escaped from your lips. Both of you pulled out from the kiss but Yeosang settled on your jawline, peppering it with kisses until he went down on your neck. It was ticklish and you giggled from the sensation he was giving you.

“Y-Yeosang, I’m still sweaty. I need to shower first.” you smiled as you held his face again pushing him away from you neck. God knows how sweaty you are right now and that sure as heck made you conscious.

He chuckled and caressed your checks with the back of his hand. “Please. I stink really. I just came from the gym-” before you could continue, he kissed your lips again. This time the kiss was demanding, a little rough. You managed to push him a little. His forehead resting against yours, just breathing heavily.

“Baby…”

Baby. He used to call you with that endearment. Hearing it from him after a very long time melted your heart. If you weren’t leaning against the kitchen aisle you would’ve been on the floor already.

“Yeosang.”

“I miss you. I really, really, really do.” He stared deeply into your eyes. All you see is longing, sincerity, and lust. “Now, I don’t care if you're sweaty, and no baby, you don’t stink.” He dangerously placed his on your waist. Making contact on your skin under your cotton shirt, his thumbs drawing circles making you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You choose, here or the bathroom.”

His offer made you feel hot. You’re not that innocent anyways. You know what he’s implying. You’ve done the nasty with him a couple of times way back. In fact, he was your first. He knows your body, your needs, your desires. He makes you feel good in many ways, and for all those years you’ve been deprived of this. Of him.

Long gone are the nights of missing his touch. Now he’s actually here. Right in front of you.

“Here, Yeosang. You can have me. Here.”

And that was all it took for him to hoist you up to the kitchen aisle, and he started kissing you fervently. You placed your hands on his shoulders for support. Your embarrassment was now gone and replaced with the need for him to put out the fire that he started.

He lifted your shirt up and you helped him get it off you. Seeing that you're still in your sports bra made him groan. “So impatient.” You giggled before pulling him to connect your lips again for a kiss.

His hands started tracing the waistband of your leggings. He’s really needy and impatient. It was evident as he pulled your leggings down without any warning. His lips began to travel down to your neck. You gasped as you felt his teeth scraping through your skin and nipping from time to time. You know he loves leaving marks all over your body. Thank god it's the weekend, nobody’s gonna see you in your office with Yeosang’s love marks today.

His hands hovered over wet underwear and you felt him smirk on your skin. “You're already wet, y/n. Do you want me so bad, huh?”

He massaged your throbbing clit and that made you throw your head back. All you want is him inside you, right now. “Yes, p-please Yeosang. I want you. Now.”

“Take off your sports bra.” You didn’t waste your time taking off of you. While doing so, Yeosang took off his clothes and stood there in front of you, naked. His structure was different. He bulked up a little. Hotter, and harder. Plus his new hair color. Altogether, he looks so hot and you're just willing to let him have his with you at 5 in the morning.

“Have you been working out while I was away, baby?” you teased while running your fingertips on his hard biceps. He just chuckled and groped your ass to pull you closer to him. “Do you find it impressive?” He asked as he painfully dragged you remaining undergarment down to your legs. “V-Very” you managed to under your breath.

Without a warning he pressed finger inside you which made you whimper. He added another one, and slowly thrusted his finger in and out of you. The friction caused lewd noises from the wetness, and you were also moaning out of neediness and pleasure. God, he definitely knows how to drive you crazy.

Never taking his hands off of your pussy, he dipped his head to your chest. Sucking your right breast first. You put your hands behind his head, gripping a handful of his blonde hair. “F-Fuck” he made you feel so good and he’s cock isn’t inside you yet.

He then sucked your other breast and his hands went faster inside your pussy. Your orgasm starts to build up, you can feel it. “I’m go- ah- Yeosang! Gonna cum”

“Not yet baby, I want you to cum while I’m inside you.”

He then removed his fingers inside and began to position his hard dick at your entrance. You were still seated at the kitchen aisle but with Yeosang’s height your position is pretty comfortable. His one arm wrapped around your waist for support while the other is caressing your cheeks.

He looked into your eyes looking for an assurance that you are ready. You nodded in response and he thrusted inside of you. A deep and thick moan came out from his mouth as pulled out and pushed inside of you again.

He’s so big inside of you. Bigger than the last he was with you.

“Baby, you're so tight. Fuck”

“Y-Yeosang. Please.” He fucked you nice and slow. Both of you are trying to adjust. Who knew not fucking for years means someone’s tighter while the other one got bigger. Nevertheless, he made you feel comfortable. The pain was replaced with pleasure and you started to grind your hips toward him, meeting his thrusts.

“Fuck, y/n”

“It’s ok, go faster, Yeosang.” you managed to say as you were already panting and gasping for more air. His cock twitched inside you and began ramming you on top of your kitchen aisle.

You leaned back a little while holding onto his shoulders for support. Fuck his dick felt so good inside you. You threw your head back just enjoying the wave of pleasure of each thrust he’s giving you. Both of you moaned each other’s name. Until none of you spoke anything audible at all. Just pants and the sound of your skin slapping.

“Cum inside me Yeosang please.” you pleaded as you felt your orgasm building up. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I’m on pills. It’s okay.”

Soon both of you came undone and your body fell forward into his. “Baby, where's your bedroom? I’ll carry you there. Come on.” He picked you up bridal style to get you off of your kitchen aisle. You guided him where your bedroom is and he laid your tired body on your bed.

“I’ll just clean our mess, I'll be right back.” He kissed your forehead and you watched him go out of your room for a while. He came back a few minutes later carrying towels. He started cleaning your swollen area before laying beside you.

You remained quiet for a while. You let him run his hands up and down your spine while you face his bare chest. “Y/n…” he called. You looked up at him and waited for him to continue. “I want us to start over again. I get it why you had to leave, just don’t do it again. Please” he said.

“What about your client, Yeosang? Isn’t it too soon? Shouldn’t we think this over for a while?” The high from your sex was still there but you have to think about getting back together with Yeosang. Afterall, both of you were hurt and not a one time sex can solve everything. You love him, yes. But you’re worried that he might still feel resentful towards you.

“Y/n about that. My client…” he lightly furrowed his eyebrows and shifted a little. “I found out that they were actually involved in some parts of your brother’s embezzlement in the past. They are trying to get your company’s assets because they saw the change in power as an opportunity to do so.” For a second you were speechless and just stared into Yeosang hoping for reassurance that he will help you.

It hasn’t been long since you’ve taken over the position that your brother used to take on. Instances such as this aren't new to you. That’s why you put people who you can trust in your company all the time to help you navigate this new position in the company. “I’ve already discussed it with your lawyer the other day. I also spoke to Hongjoong about dropping their company because we don’t want our firm to be working for people without integrity. So, instead we want to work for your company. We will be handling your legal cases from now on, if that’s what you like?”

“Yeosang, that’s too much- why are you helping me?” You were so confused by his gesture. You really appreciate it but somehow you feel guilty. He still cares for you after what happened in the past.

He cupped your cheeks with his palm and smiled. “Y/n, I’m serious. I want us to start over again. I might be too hard on you the other week in the conference room but I’m telling you the moment I saw you I know, I still love you.” He planted a kiss on your nose. And soon, he’s wiping your tears. You didn’t even notice that you are now crying. “We can work this out, y/n. Just stay with me and never leave me again. Just let me help you this time, okay? I’ll be here from now on.”

-end-

a/n : i’d appreciate it if you would hit like and reblog. thank u <3

taglist is still open for ateez law firm series. read the masterpost for more details.

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