#i like it of course. And i like how it's broken me out of my habit of only doodling

[lanf1an]

SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister pt. 8 - april 15 2025

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 wordcount: 1501

Of course, you felt bad. Dylan’s most important boarding competition of the year fell during the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, but you couldn’t not go. To Monaco. It wasn’t just the race—it was everything. Your whole life. Racing was in your blood, the paddock your second home, the people in it your family. Missing a race weekend wasn’t just unthinkable; it was impossible.

“It’s not this competition, I don’t care about that, it’s everything, not going to Japan, …” 

”Dyl, I’m sorry, you know racing is my life, it has always been part of my life, I can’t give that up.”

“I should be part of your life now too” you looked at him a bit confused. 

‘’You are’’

“I’m so sorry.. I love you and I really thought I could do this, that I didn’t care, not going to Japan, my competitions, all the time apart, but I’m tired of not caring” 

“Dyl..” your voice trembled, unsure of what to say. 

“I didn’t want to lose you, I liked that you had your own life and I had mine, but I want to share the same life as well, like you and your racing friends. I want that, someone to be at all my competitions and know everyone, I’m sorry, I thought I didn’t…” Dylan continued. And he wasn’t wrong to want to share a life with you—one that didn’t revolve around track schedules, podium celebrations, and flights halfway across the world. You were so happy you had found someone that could deal with that, it wasn’t easy. Turns out, it really isn't, not even for the coolest professional snowboarder. 

At first you didn’t cry. Not because you thought it made you weak, not because the overwhelming emotion wasn’t sadness. You were frustrated—at the situation, at yourself, at the inevitable clash between the life you live and the life Dylan and most other people wanted, this always having been a subject in your life. - Max showed up later that afternoon, letting himself in with the spare key you’d given him. You were still on the couch, staring blankly at the wall when he flopped down beside you.

“I heard,” he interrupted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Dylan texted me. He knows I’d come to check on you whether you wanted me to or not. Are you okay?”

You blinked at him. “Dylan texted you?” your voice breaking.

Max held up his hands. “Just to say you’d broken up. Don’t worry, he didn’t give me a play-by-play. But I figured you might need your twin brother to cheer you up.” 

“I’m fine,” you said while crying, the words feeling hollow even as you said them.

“You don’t look fine,” Max said, his tone softer now. “You look like you’re trying to figure out how to not feel guilty about something that wasn’t your fault.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch, trying to wipe some tears away. “It’s just...I don’t blame him. He wasn’t wrong. Racing is my life, and I couldn’t—no, I wouldn’t give it up. Not for him, not for anyone. But maybe that makes me selfish.”

Max tilted his head, studying you. “You’re not selfish. You’re honest. And honestly? If he couldn’t handle this part of your life, it’s better it ended now than years down the line.”

“It’s not about handling it,” you muttered. “He wanted a life I couldn’t give him. A normal life. And I wanted him to want this one.” It was a deeper problem that had been a problem in previous relationships and friendships, for Max and you the same.

Max gave you a wry smile, as if reading your mind. “Not everyone’s built for the chaos of our world. Doesn’t mean you’re wrong for living it.”

You stared at him, the only person who understood exactly what you meant being there for you, a lump forming in your throat. “It still sucks.” You hugged him, tears falling from your eyes.

“Of course it does.” he said, holding you. - Two days later, you were curled up on the couch in your London apartment, watching a mindless rom-com when there was loud thumping on your door. Max had texted you earlier in the day asking how you were holding up, but you hadn’t expected him to organize a rescue mission.

“You’re coming out with us,” Max declared the moment you opened your apartment door, his tone leaving no room for argument. Lando stood behind him, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“I’m really not in the mood,” you protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

“Too bad. You’ve been moping for days, and we’re not letting you wallow.” He glanced over his shoulder at Lando. “Back me up here.”

Lando’s smile widened. “He’s right. You need a distraction. And we’re excellent distractions.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden invasion

You really weren’t in the mood, but you couldn’t say no if Lando had flown over from Monaco for this.  - The bar was crowded and lively, a blur of neon lights and pulsing music. Lando stuck close to your side, his presence steadying amidst the chaos. Max, on the other hand, had already disappeared into the crowd, likely chatting up someone at the bar.

“Drink this,” Lando said, handing you a cocktail with a lopsided grin.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you teased, taking a sip.

“Obviously,” he stated, leaning closer so you could hear him over the music. “It’s called distraction therapy.”

Max reappeared with shots, dragging you both to the dance floor. The alcohol had loosened your nerves, and you found yourself laughing as Max attempted to teach Lando some ridiculous dance moves. Lando’s face lit up with his usual playful grin, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

The bar Max had picked was exactly what you needed—loud, lively, and far removed from anything that reminded you of Dylan. 

As the night wore on, the three of you found a rhythm—dancing, drinking, laughing. Max eventually got distracted by a group of girls, leaving you and Lando alone near the edge of the dance floor.

“You’re having fun,” Lando observed, his smile warm as he watched you sway to the music.

“I am,” you admitted, surprised by how true it felt.

“Good.” He stepped closer, his voice low. “And good riddance by the way, we dont like Red Bull anyway” you laughed, rolling your eyes. - By the time you stumbled back into your apartment, you were drunk, feeling happy, and unsteady.

You had put Max in an uber to his apartment, too drunk to stay. Classic, having to rescue him during his rescue mission for you. Leaving Lando to stay with you ‘’He snores too much when he’s drunk and I don’t want to take care of him’’.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said, kicking off your shoes and sinking onto the couch.

“Anytime,” Lando replied, dropping onto the seat beside you. His knee brushed against yours, and neither of you moved away.

The silence stretched, charged with something unspoken. You turned to him, your breath catching at the way his gaze lingered on you.

“What?” you asked softly.

He hesitated, his hand resting on the back of the couch as he leaned closer. “You know what.”

You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as his eyes flicked to your lips.

“Lando…”

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

But you didn’t.

When his lips met yours, it was like everything you’d been holding back finally broke free. The kiss was hungry, desperate, months of tension unraveling in a heartbeat.

You barely made it to the bedroom, your clothes scattered in a trail behind you. It was messy and impulsive and everything it shouldn’t have been.

WN: Im so sorry guys, took way longer, I was sick :(((((

tl: @ash88-yep @lewishamiltonismybf @harrysdimple05@lex2205 @il0vereadingstuff @martygraciesversion381 @joannaln4 @obxstiles@chaoswithus@motorsportloverf1 @therovanperaastonmartini@acesofspadess @widow-cevans @irisesinthegarden @ncrsbrg @f1fantasys @norrisainz33 @mayax2o07 @ipushhimback

[midnite-c6]

Hear me out. Pink Guard Reader (any shape guard; triangle/square/circle) who watches the contestants of this horrendous game fight for the money that glows above them and their own survival for it. Pink Guard Reader who notices two particular contestants, Nam-Gyu and Thanos. Both of them seemingly seem to stand out amongst all the players since everyone seems to be taking these games seriously besides those two, mainly. You keep a watchful eye upon them (and perhaps, sneakily help them in some situations...maybe, saving their lives at one point...?) and it doesn't take for one of them to notice and inform the other. And they now keep a particular eye on you, and perhaps, when they see you standing alone in a certain area with your pink guard uniform and mask..IDK, PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

guys tables turned!!! tthank thank..tjanks for sharing to the class hahahahahah PURRRRR. omg the way theyd absolutely look down on u bcuz like ure the one supposed to kill them and be evil so why r u being so nice? (they take advantage of this ofc) 🫶🏻

thanos & namgyu x pinkguard!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon

つ⁠｡⁠☆ you were just so intrigued by them! i mean, they were literally treating the games like... games. no deaths, no consequences, just fun! they were insane. you liked insane, tho. you'd even save them in the game mingle. unfairly killing other players. you wanted them to live because.. you were bored, and they kept the games fun, anyways.

it was now dinner time, when the two guys would line up for their own share of food, thanos would notice it was you! the same guard that saved them since the button on your jacket was slightly broken,, "my bro, can i get extra?" he'd press his hands together, and you'd happily give him extra because, why not? nam-gyu was just behind him, asking the same, he'd even give a polite thank you.

both of them noticed how they were the only ones getting unfair advantages, so when everyone's too busy with their food or talking to their groups, they walk up to you, as you were standing guard next to the bathrooms. you couldn't speak, since you'd be scolded to talk without permission, but the two have got nothing to lose, and they'd make it their life's goal to bother you. "pst. triangleee facee. talk to us!" thanos would poke you, his other hand occupied by the extra milk you gave him earlier. "ah, this dude's boring."

thanos would even offer the small pills inside his cross necklace, you politely decline. simply shaking your head. "do you think there's a person inside there?" nam-gyu would press on your mask as he wonders, "you're right! what if this guy is just a robot..? shiit. technology is getting good." nam-gyu would stare at you intently, trying to find something underneath that mask. he'd take his hands to touch your chest and stomach, in search of any indications on your body, of course, the touch makes you jolt. you immediately point your gun at him. "woah, woah ..my bad." he says as he puts both of his hands up. "ah, fuck dude you angered him!" they'd both laugh, and you lower your firearm. "so it must be a human." thanos would get all up in your face. "hey, tell me, man, why'd you save us?" you can't answer. "why can't you speaaak??" he was getting frustrated, clearly. you'd only turn your face to the guard with a square on his mask, signaling him as your superior. "i think if he talks, that guy would get mad." "ohhh yeah no shit, dude." and before you could react, thanos quickly pulls you to the mens bathroom, guess you have no choice but to speak now..

"there! surely you could speak now!" he exclaims and after a few seconds of contemplating, you would speak, although the voice is distorted , "that's correct."

"take off your mask then." such a straight-forward request, but you'd do it with no protest, you're just the same as them, nothing to lose. once you've lifted your mask to rest ontop of your head, you'd happily breathe in the cold air. the two stares at you dumbfoundedly. "fuck dude, your pills are starting to make me go crazy." "me too bro!!" "is it just me or are you also seeing a chick?" player 124 would rub his eyes with his hands. "what the fuuuuuuuuck." you'd only snort at their comments. "hey! you've been shootin' people , huh?" the purple-haired one would scold, "is there something wrong with that?" nam-gyu chuckles, "bet she looked hot doing it, to be honest." thanos touches your face with his hand. "you're like.. a guardian angel to us." you're embarrassed honestly, it was such an awkward moment. they'd both look at each other at that moment, reaching to some kind of decision, "hell yea, do i wanna fuck my guardian angel."

nsfw below!!-> 💘

"mmph-. god. fucking a murderer feels crazy." thanos happily blurts out in groans, as he pushes heavily inside you, putting in all his weight , balls deep inside your pussy. you couldn't moan out, with nam-gyu's cock shoved down your throat, his pace was much more abusive and mean than thanos', bruising your poor throat. they didn't even bother to go inside a stall, instead deciding to be right in the middle of the mens bathroom, where your suit was pushed to the side. they'd keep the gun slinged to your body, and your mask still slightly lifted up from your face, the mask stays on, what a hot image. the one thrusting inside your cunt was ecstatic, like he was so pent up he'd thank the gods he could put it all out inside you. "awwh.. pretty pink guard.." he would tuck your hair behind your ears, your forehead dripping with sweat. "pretty pink pussy n' all. you're so evil.." nam-gyu would also thrust far too deep, making you gag, your hands would grip on player 124's legs, letting him know that he was going too rough! and for what! "you're tough, i'm sure you can take it." and he goes even faster! it was like they were punishing you for only doing your job, not even bothering to say thank you for saving them :(

...sadly, the rules are strict when it comes to being a guard. and you've been gone for way too long, atleast you went out with a bang! literally.

I MADE THIS SO SILLY 😭🙏🏻. guys sorry mah brain nawt working LOLs but they can do it day and night every position until i learn fluent korean fr. born to ride both forced to only write and read for them😿 maybe i make masterlist after this 🤨

[insidekatmind]

Silent Promises~Jonathan Daviss

It was a cool spring evening when Jonathan called you for the second time that week. His calls were always filled with laughter, jokes, and a familiarity that comforted you. But this time, something in his tone made you raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, how are you?" Jonathan asked, and his voice sounded more serious than usual.

"I'm good, thanks," you replied, trying to sound more convincing than you felt. "I just finished doing some interviews for the new album."

"I can imagine," he replied with a light laugh, but it sounded a bit tense. "You know, the song you wrote about Drew... it's really powerful. There's a lot of you in that one."

A shiver ran down your spine. Drew... The man you had loved, but who had betrayed you. Every word of the song Heartbreak Highway spoke of your pain, broken dreams, and the loneliness you had felt after discovering his betrayal. The public had loved it, of course. It had gone viral, like all your most honest songs.

"Yeah... it was hard to write," you admitted, feeling a lump in your throat. "But the best of me came out. I'm glad people can relate to it."

"I'm sure," he said softly. "You're incredible, as always." His voice grew more tender but also more serious. "Listen, I want to talk to you about something..."

A small suspicion crept into your mind. Jonathan had never been afraid to be direct with you. But something felt different today. It was as if he was avoiding telling you something important.

"Sure, tell me everything," you replied, trying to keep your tone normal.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and when Jonathan spoke again, his voice trembled just slightly. "I... I know you're hurting, and I care about you. You know I've always been there for you."

"I know," you said, almost whispering. "And you've always been my rock, Jonathan."

He hesitated again. "I just want you to know that you deserve someone who truly loves you. Not someone who betrays you. Not someone who makes you feel less than you are."

Your heart stopped for a moment. His words seemed so sincere, but there was something deeper, as if he wasn’t just talking about Drew.

"Jonathan..." you whispered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. "I... I’m not ready for another relationship, not now. Not after what happened."

"I’m not talking about a relationship," he said gently, but with an incredible firmness that struck you. "I'm just saying, I’m here. Always."

You sank into the couch, feeling the weight of his words. You had known him for so long. You’d laughed together, cried together, shared dreams, fears, and hopes. But you had never seen Jonathan in this light. Every word he spoke seemed to carry something more, a feeling you couldn’t fully decipher.

"Jonathan..." you repeated, his name sounded different on your tongue. "I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to think that I’m ignoring how you feel about me."

"I don’t want you to feel obligated," he said quickly, almost in a whisper. "I don’t want to put pressure on you. I just... I just want you to know that I care about you, in a way that goes beyond friendship. I’ve loved you, always."

The world seemed to stop for a moment. Jonathan... loved you? How had you never noticed it before? But at the same time, how could you respond to this revelation when your heart was still broken over Drew?

"Jonathan, I... I don’t know what to say." Your voice trembled, but not out of fear. Out of confusion, out of surprise. "I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to be like Drew... like someone who deceived me."

"You know I’m not like that," he replied, his voice full of sincerity you had never heard before. "And I understand, really. But I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll always be here. I don’t just want to be your best friend. I want to be something more, if one day you want it."

Silence fell heavily between you, and as his words echoed in your head, your heart hammered in your chest. You were lost. Lost in a sea of emotions you didn’t know how to manage.

"Jonathan..." you repeated finally, trying to find the strength to say something you never thought you’d say. "Maybe, in another time, in another life, we could have been more. But right now... I need time."

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. "I understand. And I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you, if you’re ever ready."

The call ended there, but that silent promise lingered between you. A promise of time, of hope, of a future that would come, or maybe not. But one thing was certain: Jonathan would never just be a friend to you. Something inside you was changing, and maybe, one day, you would look at him with different eyes.

And in the meantime, your song continued to play on the radio, an anthem of heartbreak and rebirth, while Jonathan, from afar, watched you with silent hope.

[olivialivvy17]

Racing to the beat - Daniel Ricciardo

summary: Daniel gets a new teammate in VCRB, a F2 female championship winner for the 2025 season. What he didn't expect was her to be extremely genz and a kpop fan.

pairing: fem rookie driver!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

AU: Social media!AU and Written!AU

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing, use of yn, hate comments, reader is 25.

face claim: Amna Al Qubaisi for professional f1 photos, the rest are from pinterest.

wc: 617

a/n: hii guyss, sorry for a late update. haven't been really inspired to write. I hope you enjoy this part, I'm not the best at writting but I'm trying my best fr. okay love you lots <333

part two <prev.

ynusername posted a story

second story

user8 oh to be rich😔

charles_leclerc you know who to call for a tour

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ynusername Alex my favorite tour guide (ily mwah) ❤️

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user9 oh how I love women

user10 a duo we needed so bad😩

alexandrasaintmleux I had a blast! can't wait to see you again 🫶🏻

ynusername love you gf <3

user11 hello my clothes were just on 😔

lilymhe we need to meet up soon!

ynusername omg Lilly, omg omg. yes, yes we have to. omg you're so pretty🫶🏻

lilymhe you're so pretty too! and like such a good driver! ❤️

ynusername ❤️❤️ im freaking out rn❤️❤️

user2 Yn is so real for this😭😭

user1 let's hope they don't media train her 🙏🏻 liked by ynusername

charles_leclerc turns out we won't be only competing for that championship

ynusername I fear Alex is my gf now (I'm joking media manager)

danielricciardo going out with Alexandra before me? I might be heartbroken💔

ynusername noooooooo I promise we'll hang out before the first race, I just need to settle in Monaco rn

danielricciardo I'm holding you to that mate

ynusername yes sir🫡

user8 I might have a new favorite duo

ynusername posted a story

user12 you ARE in fact on my rob list

user13 we need an album collection asap girl

olliebearman I miss listening to your broken Korean singing 😭

danielricciardo that Seventeen group has some good songs

ynusername see I told you! I'm glad you're liking my recommendations

second story

visacashapprb boss said we might need to start media training you

ynusername nooo boss i promise I'll behave. I promise🙏🏻

user14 so real diva

user15 HAHAHAHA I LOVE YOU ALREADY

bestfriend I love my strong woman🤤

ynusername all for you wife 🤞🏻

16.03.2025. Australia, Melbourne

“Get your shit together” you said to yourself in the mirror. Standing in the RB  garage bathroom, gripping the sink with all your strength while trying to tame the boiling anxiety coursing through your body. It's officially the first race day and all the fears and doubts came crashing down on you. It’s normal to be nervous on the first day, you said to yourself, but is it normal to be physically nauseous? Probably not, but here we are. “You can do this Yn, you know what you're capable of” you keep repeating out loud like a mantra, hoping it will stop the burning and sinking feeling in your stomach.

A voice calling out your name snapped you out of the spiraling daze. “Are you in there?” said a voice you recognize as your race engineer. “Yeah, give me a second i'll be out” you shout from the other side of the door. Receiving a ‘Okay’ from them as you turn on the faucet and put your clammy hands under the cold water. Urgently splashing your face, hoping to bring you out the anxiety induced haze. Straightening up, you dab the moisture off your face and discard the paper towel. Fixing your tied back hair and the race suit that's zipped up to your hips. With a more of a shaky chuckle, you flash thumbs up to yourself in the mirror and whisper “You got this girl” before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out to the bustling and roaring garage.

Walking back to your side of the garage, you spot Daniel speaking to one of your engineers. “There you are” spoke the familiar Aussie accent as you two made eye contact, seeing his infectious smile only made the corner of your lips twitch upwards. “How are you feeling, everything okay?” said Daniel as you approached the screens where he's standing. With a nervous chuckle, you spoke “Honestly, anxiety is gnawing at my insides, but I've pep talked myself in the mirror so hopefully I won't spiral completely” as you shifted your gaze from the screen to him. The Aussie had a soft and understanding expression on his face as he reassured you in a comforting tone “You're gonna be just fine, trust me” as he placed his hand on your shoulder “I know how you feel and that's completely valid. Nerves mean you care—use them. Trust your prep, feel the car, and have fun. The first race is unforgettable. You’ve got this, you're a good driver and you know it.”. The way his tone was sincere and caring and that warm smile and the grounding hand on your shoulder made the burning pit in your stomach slightly fade away. With more confidence in your stance, and that smile finally appearing on your face, you thanked him “Thank you for saying that, you don't how much it means to me. I promise to give it my best and not let the fear swallow me whole,” you end the sentence with a soft chuckle. With a chuckle of his own, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you in a reassuring and warm embrace, patting your back gently. Your hands instinctively found their way onto his upper back, mimicking his patting motion.

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visacashapprb First race of the season comes to an end! Ricciardo P6, Yn/Ln P8. What a duo!

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user16 YN IS WHAT PLACE ?

user2 ATEEEEEEEEE🙂‍↕️

ynusername i totally wasn't singing that one song by 2ne1 (iykyk)

user17 rb better upgrade that car, cuz my girl can place so much higher

user18 for a rookie, she's good

f1 Yn slayed on that track!

user7 not admin trying to use slang😭

danielricciardo Amazing first race Yn!

ynusername couldn't do it without my great teammate🥹

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Geo has officially become my second favorite character in Tkatb. As an asexual person writing about another asexual-coded character, I have to say—he makes me feel seen. It’s like he literally can’t take his eyes off me (and let’s face it, with Geo, that’s more intense than romantic).

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

But let’s be serious: I love him platonically. Sorry Brittany.

So, of course, I’ll share my headcanons about Geo, some shared by other fans, and even a few from the game’s lore. And no, before you ask, I won’t be writing about Sol in this “Type of Boyfriend” trope. He’s the obvious main choice in the game, and countless talented writers have already explored that lane. 

Geo, however? His quiet, unsettling stares deserve its moment in the spotlight.

Okay, so let’s talk about Geo as a boyfriend. First of all, congratulations on making that happen. Like, seriously, how did you pull it off? 

Because let’s be real, Geo is not the type to just open his heart to anyone. This man’s walls are practically made of steel, and I’m sure it took some serious patience, persistence, and probably some sorcery to get him to even consider letting you in.

But hey, you did it. So now you’ve got yourself the most stoic, broody, and incredibly hot boyfriend. So let’s break it down! 

✑ The Silent Observer

Like said, getting close to Geo? Oh man, that was like trying to break into a vault without the code. And let’s be honest, at first, you probably weren’t even trying to get to him—he just happened to be standing there while you were hanging out with Crowe. But of course, Geo being Geo, he’d hit you with those cold, piercing stares that made you question every single life choice.

And don’t even get me started on his bluntness. He’s the definition of the strong, silent type. He only speaks when he thinks something needs to be said, which means you’re never getting any filler or small talk from him. It’s not that he’s rude—he just values words and doesn’t see the point in wasting them. 

He’d just say it. Straight up. No filter. 

However, he does talk—pretty much one sentence though, it’s worth listening to because you’ll quickly realize how sharp he is. Geo’s intelligence and observant nature are on another level too�� 

The kind of observant where he notices *everything*. He’s like that one friend who knows all the drama without ever saying a word. While Brittany would spill the tea loudly and proudly, Geo keeps it all locked away in that steel trap of a brain. He’s always watching, analyzing, and probably always two steps ahead. It’s part of what makes him such a great strategist but also why he’s so cautious about trusting anyone.  

So, instead of running for the hills like most people would, you stayed. And that’s probably what made him start noticing you. You didn’t back off, didn’t try to change him, just kind of… stuck around. 

Geo doesn’t do well with people who push or pry, so the fact that you respected his space but still showed up? Yeah, that got to him. Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

What’s wild is that he notices everything. Stuff you didn’t even realize about yourself? Yeah, he’s clocked it already. He’s the kind of guy who remembers your favorite drink, the way you twirl your hair when you’re stressed, or even the exact date you mentioned something offhand weeks ago. It’s almost unsettling how much he takes in, but it’s also one of the ways he shows how much he cares.

He’s not the type to constantly shower you with compliments or grand gestures, but his quiet, steady presence speaks volumes. Geo’s the guy who will fix something for you before you even realize it’s broken or offer exactly what you need without you having to ask. 

And when he does open up or say something heartfelt? You know it’s real because he doesn’t just say things lightly.

✑ Low-key Romantic

Okay, let’s get real—Geo is not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. If anything, he’s probably got it locked up in a box somewhere with a “Do Not Disturb” sign slapped on it. But here’s the thing: when Geo cares, he cares. Like, no half-measures. 

Once he lets someone in—which is a feat on its own—you have his full, unwavering loyalty. And let’s be honest, why would Geo want anyone else? He’s not the type to hop from person to person—when he chooses you, he chooses you.

I’m pulling his asexual card here because it just fits. Geo isn’t about flashy romance or grand declarations. For him, love isn’t in the words or PDA—mind you he HATES PDA—it’s in the quiet, consistent ways he shows up for you. He wouldn’t just call you his partner; he’d treat you like you’re the most important person in his life, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

And the way he shows his affection? It’s all in the details. Geo is hyper-observant—he probably knows you better than you know yourself. 

Again, he’ll pick up on the smallest things, like how you take your coffee or tea, the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, or how you’re always talking about that one book or game you’re obsessed with. And he’ll use that information to make your day in ways that feel effortless.

Expect random, thoughtful surprises. Maybe your favorite snacks just happen to appear on your desk when you’re having a rough day, or you’ll find tickets to that movie you’ve been dying to see in your bag without him saying a word. He’s not going to make a big deal about it either—he’ll just shrug it off like it’s no big deal, but deep down, he’s paying attention to every detail that makes you you.

Geo’s love language is subtle, sure, but it’s also steady and reliable. 

You won’t always see it coming, but you’ll feel it in the way he’s always quietly there for you, no matter what.

✑ Protective But Not Overbearing

Oh, Geo’s hella protective—like, protective to the point where you know he’s got your back no matter what. But don’t think for a second he’s the clingy or overbearing type. Nah, that’s not his style. 

He’s more of a silent sentinel kind of guy, keeping a close eye on everything while letting you do your thing. He trusts you to handle yourself, and honestly? That trust speaks volumes. He knows you’re capable, and he’s not about to baby you or hover like some overprotective shadow.

But let’s get one thing straight—if someone crosses the line with you? Game over. Geo might seem calm and composed most of the time, but when it comes to defending you, that sharp tongue of his comes out swinging. 

And let’s not forget the fact that he’s an archer. I’m just saying, if someone pushes too far, they’d better pray they’re not anywhere near a target. He wouldn’t need to say much—one cold glare, one well-aimed shot at a bullseye, and everyone around would get the message.

What’s even better is that Geo doesn’t make a scene about it. He’s not the type to start unnecessary drama or puff up his chest to prove something. He’ll shut down any nonsense with a few carefully chosen words or, if it comes to it, an intimidating presence that leaves no room for argument. 

He’s protective, yeah, but it’s in this quiet, no-nonsense way that just makes you feel safe without feeling suffocated.

And honestly? That balance is rare. He’s like your personal bodyguard without the need for the over-the-top theatrics. It’s not about control—it’s about making sure you know you’re valued and looked out for. 

And for Geo, that’s everything.

✑ A Hidden Heart

Geo’s not the type to be up in your face 24/7. Nah, for him, it’s all about quality over quantity. He’s perfectly fine with spending an hour sitting next to you in total silence, maybe reading or just walking side by side. 

You don’t even have to talk—he’s not big on words anyway. It’s the connection that matters to him, not the setting or how much time you spend together. 

To Geo, a quiet moment shared between just the two of you means more than any loud party or over-the-top date night ever could.

Now, let’s talk about Geo’s bluntness. We all know he’s sharp-tongued, unfiltered, and way too honest for his own good. It’s kind of his thing. But when it comes to you? That edge softens, and he tries—tries being the keyword here—to rein it in. He’s still going to tell you exactly what he thinks because, let’s be real, that’s just who he is. 

But with you, he’ll make the effort to phrase things more gently. You’re one of the very few people who gets that version of him, and let’s be honest, that’s kind of special. You get to see the side of him that’s not all sharp remarks and icy glares, the side that actually cares.

And while Geo might seem like this stoic, broody guy who doesn’t let anything faze him, he’s secretly a total softie when it comes to you. Again, he’s not going to smother you with hugs or drown you in words of comfort when you’re upset—that’s not his style. He’s not like Crowe T-T.

But he’ll be there. 

Sitting beside you when you’re crying, quietly handing you tissues, letting you lean on his shoulder without a word. He listens, like really listens, and you can feel his presence grounding you even when he doesn’t say much.

It’s not that Geo doesn’t care—he just shows it in his own way. A quiet walk, a softened tone, a steady shoulder to lean on. With Geo, love isn’t loud or flashy. It’s steady, subtle, and completely genuine.

✑ Tailored to You

Geo and the five love languages? Well… Spoiler alert: this man is low-key okay at all of them, even if he’ll never admit it.

— Words of Affirmation? 

So… Compliments? Yeah, don’t hold your breath. He’s not going to gush about how you’re the most incredible person on the planet. 

But when he does say something nice? Oh, it means something. If Geo tells you, “That was impressive,” just know he’s basically screaming, “I’m so proud of you” on the inside. And if you ever compliment him? Expect a half-hearted shrug and a muttered, “I guess,” but deep down, you know he’s preening like a cat that just caught a mouse.

— Acts of Service? 

This is where Geo shines. He’s not going to say, “I love you” outright, but he’ll carry your bag, or make sure you’re eating when you’ve had a rough day. 

Dating Geo means having someone who sees you, even when you think no one else does. He’s a protector, a confidant, and someone who keeps things real—all wrapped up in a broody, mysterious package. 

Need something heavy moved? Done. Can’t open a jar? No problem. He’s like a one-man life support system, quietly taking care of you while pretending it’s no big deal.

— Receiving Gifts?

Geo doesn’t do flashy gifts, but when he gives you something? It’s weirdly specific and thoughtful. Like, you’ll casually mention liking a certain anything once, and boom—it’s sitting in front of your door the next day. He’ll pretend it’s not a big deal, though. “Oh, I just saw it at the store,” he’ll say, even though you know he went out of his way to get it.

— Quality Time?

This one is Geo’s bread and butter. He’s all about meaningful moments. Forget big group hangouts or extravagant plans—he’d rather spend a quiet evening with you, just existing in the same space. You could be doing something as mundane as grocery shopping, and he’d still find a way to make it feel special. And if you’re both just sitting in silence, reading or scrolling on your phones? That’s peak romance for him.

— Physical Touch?

All right, let’s be real—Geo isn’t big on touchy-feely stuff. He’s the type to freeze up if someone hugs him unexpectedly. But with you? He warms up to it. He’s still awkward as hell at first, but over time, he’ll start initiating small touches—a hand on your shoulder, brushing hair out of your face, or even holding your hand when no one’s looking. And if you hug him? He’ll grumble about it, but he secretly loves it.

In conclusion? Geo’s love language is basically Geo Language—quiet, understated, and 100% tailored to you. He’s not going to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but if you pay attention, his actions scream, “You’re my person, and I’m not letting you go.”

✑ Tailored to Him

So you wanna know Geo’s love languages? As unique as he is and if we had to rank them, here’s the holy trinity that makes this stoic archer tick:

Geo is an independent guy, but even the most self-sufficient people need someone who understands them. He craves someone who respects his need for space but knows when to step in with the right kind of support.

— Acts of Service (His #1, obviously)

Geo isn’t the type to ask for help—he’s too independent for that. But when you step in and do something thoughtful for him without being asked? 

That’s how you win this man over. 

He’s got this quiet appreciation for when people notice the little things, like brewing him tea when he’s had a rough day or cleaning up his gear after practice. Bonus points if you surprise him with something related to his hobbies, like a rare Japanese opera recording or a new pot for one of his plants. Acts of service show him that you’re paying attention, and trust me, he notices.

— Quality Time

Geo doesn’t want loud, over-the-top outings or big social gatherings. In fact, the less noise and chaos, the better. What he really craves is quiet, intentional moments with someone who just gets him. 

Sitting together in a cozy home, tending to his potted plants, or watching the intricate art of shadow puppetry—these are the things that speak to his soul. Geo thrives in these quiet spaces where he can relax, reflect, and enjoy meaningful companionship. 

Just don’t interrupt if he’s hyper-focused on something. He’ll side-eye you into another dimension.

— Receiving Gifts

Okay, hear me out—Geo hates getting gifts, right? I mean, he literally burned the random Valentine’s Day presents people gave him that one time. Absolute menace behavior, but honestly? It’s kind of funny in a this-man-does-not-care way. But here’s the twist: Geo’s not against all gifts. He’s just very particular.

See, he doesn’t want over-the-top, flashy stuff. No giant teddy bears, love letters, heart-shaped balloons, or anything that screams “cliché.” If you even think about giving him something generic, he’ll give you that deadpan look that could shrivel your soul. However, thoughtful, personalized gifts? 

That’s a whole different story.

Picture this: you show up with a sleek, modern pot for one of his beloved plants, or maybe a rare variety of seeds that he hasn’t gotten his hands on yet. Geo would never say it out loud, but inside? He’s lowkey impressed. Or let’s say you score him tickets to a Japanese opera—something you know he’d appreciate but would never bother getting for himself. Now, that would leave him quietly staring at you like, “…You actually get me.”

And don’t even get me started on shadow puppetry. If you found a book about advanced techniques or a vintage lamp to use for creating the perfect shadows? You’d probably see the faintest flicker of a smile—like, barely there, but it counts.

With Geo, it’s not about spending a ton of money or going big. It’s about showing that you know him—that you’ve paid attention to his quirks, his hobbies, and the things that make him tick. When the gift reflects his personality and interests? 

That’s when you see the softer side of him, the part of him that’s secretly thinking, “How did I end up with someone like this?”

And yeah, he might not say that, because Geo and verbal affection are basically strangers. But the way he takes care of that plant pot or treasures that opera ticket? 

That’ll tell you everything you need to know.

✑ Cultural Depth 

Geo’s all about his Japanese roots, but he doesn’t go around making a big deal about it. It’s in the small things—the quiet traditions he carries, the way he’ll casually drop some next-level cultural knowledge.

— Sharing His World (Quietly)

Geo isn’t the type to throw you into the deep end of his culture, but if you hang around him long enough, he’ll start to let you in. It’s like a slow reveal in a really good book—you don’t even realize you’re getting hooked until you’re deep into it. 

He’ll start small, teaching you a word or two in Japanese. Nothing too complicated at first—basic phrases like arigatou or ohayou. God writing this is killing me…

But if you’re patient (and don’t butcher the pronunciation), he might hit you with the poetic, meaningful stuff. Like, “The moon tonight reminds me of home,” kind of poetic.

And food? Oh, he’s low-key a food snob, but in the best way. If he takes you out for sushi, don’t embarrass him by drowning it in soy sauce, okay? He might roll his eyes, but deep down, he’ll think you’re a lost cause. 

Bonus points if you ask him to show you how to make something traditional, though. Watching him calmly explain how to roll onigiri while being so exact about it? Weirdly cute.

— Secret Nerd Side

Geo doesn’t advertise it, but he has a soft spot for traditional Japanese arts. Shadow puppetry? Yeah, that’s a thing he knows. He won’t just show you for fun, though—you’ll have to ask and even then, it’s going to be, like, the most casual display ever. He’ll make a crane with his hands in the middle of a quiet moment, the shadow falling perfectly on the wall, and act like it’s no big deal. 

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, wondering if he’s secretly an 80-year-old trapped in a hot college guy’s body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on Japanese opera. It’s his go-to when he needs to vibe or think. You might catch him with his headphones in, looking all stoic, and he’s probably listening to something hauntingly beautiful and dramatic. But good luck getting him to admit it.

✑ Such Spa Days

If there’s one thing you should know about Geo, it’s that he takes self-care very seriously. This man isn’t just about keeping clean—he’s practically the ambassador of flawless skin. His routine is a whole event, and don’t even think about interrupting it unless you want to be met with one of his signature cold stares.

Geo’s all about precision, from his perfectly tied low ponytail to his smooth, glowing complexion that looks like it came straight out of a skincare ad. He’s the guy who has a shelf full of serums, toners, face masks, and creams, all neatly organized by purpose and ingredient list. Oh, and he definitely uses products with names you can’t pronounce but that sounds expensive. He’s from the rich side of the society anyway…

Sunday nights? They’re sacred. You’ll find Geo in full spa mode, complete with a fluffy towel draped over his shoulders and maybe even some calming Japanese opera music playing softly in the background. He’ll light a candle (something subtle, probably sandalwood or green tea) and go through his routine like it’s a religious ceremony. Cleansing, exfoliating, masking—he’s got it all down to a science.

And don’t get him started on baths. Geo’s baths are an experience. He’ll fill the tub with just the right temperature water, toss in some herbal bath salts or a soothing bath bomb, and relax like he’s starring in a luxurious retreat commercial. He even has a book propped up nearby or maybe a cup of tea to complete the vibe.

The best part? Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just about himself—it’s an extension of his personality. He values control and discipline, and his skincare routine is a reflection of that. Every step, every product, is carefully chosen because it’s his way of staying grounded in a chaotic world.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to be part of his life, he might invite you into his sacred self-care space. Don’t expect anything over the top, though. Geo’s not going to gush about it, but he’ll casually hand you a face mask or suggest a product he thinks you’ll like. It’s his way of saying, “I care,” without actually saying it.

But be warned—if you touch his stuff without asking, he’ll probably give you a look that could freeze fire. He’s protective of his skincare collection, and for good reason. You’ll never forget the day you used his serum without permission and had to endure a five-minute lecture about “proper application techniques” while he looked genuinely offended.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: Geo’s devotion to skincare doesn’t just stop with himself. Oh no, if you’re doing it wrong, he will notice—and he will step in.

Say you’re casually applying his skincare collection one day, just slapping it on like it’s sunscreen at the beach. Geo, from across the room, will stop dead in his tracks, narrow his aquamarine eyes, and calmly say, “What are you doing?” in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. Before you can even protest, he’s already approaching with that look—the one that says, “I didn’t want to get involved, but you’ve left me no choice.”

Geo doesn’t offer to fix your skincare routine; he takes over. He’s not the type to sugarcoat it either. “You’re wasting product,” he’ll mutter, carefully squeezing the perfect amount of serum onto his fingertips before gently patting it into your skin. “And you’re supposed to press it in, not rub it like you’re sanding wood.”

And honestly? He’s ridiculously good at it. His hands are steady, his movements precise, and for someone who doesn’t talk much, he somehow explains every step with just enough detail to make you realize how little you knew about skincare to begin with.

Geo is not one for half-measures, so don’t be surprised when he starts rearranging your entire routine. Suddenly, you’ve got a multi-step process you never asked for, complete with double cleansing, toners, serums, and a nightly mask rotation. You didn’t even know what a niacinamide serum was before, but now you have one, and you’re using it correctly, thank you very much.

The funniest part? Geo never complains about doing your skincare. He acts mildly exasperated, sure, but you catch the tiniest flicker of pride when your skin starts glowing like his. 

And while he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly likes having an excuse to take care of you. It’s his way of showing he cares without all that messy emotional talk.

But if you dare to slack off? Oh, you’ll hear about it. “You didn’t put on sunscreen today, did you?” he’ll ask, his tone low and judgmental as he crosses his arms. “Don’t come crying to me when you age prematurely.” And yet, despite all the teasing, he’ll still hand you his favorite SPF because, deep down, he can’t stand the idea of you not taking care of yourself.

At the end of the day, Geo’s skincare obsession isn’t just about looking good—it’s about discipline, self-respect, and now, begrudgingly, making sure you’re glowing just as much as he is. 

In the end, Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just a quirky habit—it’s part of what makes him who he is. It’s his way of maintaining balance, staying composed, and, let’s be honest, looking damn good while doing it. 

✑ So Damn Competitive

Don’t let Geo’s stoic, “I’m too cool to care” vibe fool you—this man is surprisingly competitive. Like, you’d think someone who’s all about calm and control wouldn’t get riled up over a board game, right? Wrong. The moment you pull out a board game or even a deck of Uno cards, you’re witnessing a transformation. Same too…

Geo doesn’t just play to win—he plays to crush. He’s not loud about it, though. Oh no, Geo’s trash talk is subtle but devastating. “That’s an… interesting move,” he’ll say, his aquamarine eyes glinting with quiet smugness as he places his piece exactly where it’ll ruin your entire strategy. And let’s not even get started on trivia night. This man has an encyclopedic knowledge of random facts, and he’ll flex it in the most deadpan way possible.

But here’s the best part: Geo will let you win sometimes—just don’t expect him to admit it. He’ll subtly fumble a move in Jenga or conveniently “forget” the answer to a question during trivia, all while keeping that unreadable poker face. If you call him out on it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’ll say, completely straight-faced, as if he didn’t just let the tower fall on purpose.

The funniest part is how petty he can get when he doesn’t win. Like, say you beat him in a cooking challenge (because your pancakes were objectively fluffier). He won’t throw a fit, but you’ll catch him side-eyeing your plate like it personally offended him. “Your syrup-to-pancake ratio is off,” he might mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

But his competitive streak isn’t all bad—it’s actually kind of adorable. If you’re struggling with something, Geo will quietly make it his mission to help you improve. 

Trying to get better at a sport? Let’s use Kyūdō, in other words, the Japanese martial art of archery. It started as you’d expect—Geo, all serious and instructor-like, standing behind you to adjust your posture, his hands steady as they guided yours. “Hold it like this,” he’d say, his tone calm and precise. You could tell he was in his element, and honestly? 

He’s kind of hot when he gets all focused like that.

At first, you weren’t great. The arrows went everywhere except the target and Geo’s quiet sighs of exasperation were hilarious. But instead of getting frustrated, he’d patiently explain what you were doing wrong, occasionally muttering things like, “It’s not that hard,” under his breath.

But then something shifted. One day, it just clicked. Suddenly, your arrows weren’t just hitting the target—they were landing dead center. 

Every. Single. Time.

Geo’s reaction? Priceless. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he watched your shots. “Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Except it wasn’t luck. You kept getting better. So much better, in fact, that you started beating him.

The first time it happened, you expected him to be annoyed. But instead, he just stared at the target, then at you, and said, “You’ve been practicing without me.” (Spoiler: You hadn’t.)

From then on, Geo challenges you to little games—first one to hit three bullseyes, trick shots, you name it. And every time you won, you’d catch that subtle crease in his brow like he couldn’t quite believe it.

But despite his bruised ego, Geo was secretly proud of you. You’d catch him smiling—just barely—when you weren’t looking, and if anyone else tried to challenge you? Oh, he’d brag like crazy. “She’s the best shot here,” he’d say, completely deadpan, like he wasn’t lowkey sulking about the fact that you’d surpassed him.

Watching Geo try to outshoot you while pretending he wasn’t bothered was half the fun, you know it’s eating him up inside. “Good game,” he’ll say, his tone perfectly neutral, while internally plotting his revenge for next time.

 It’s all part of the charm, though. 

✑ You’re His Safe Space

Okay, I know—Geo and PDA? They’re not exactly besties. He’s not the guy to be all over you in public; in fact, he hates it.

Holding hands? Brings too much attention.

Kisses in front of people? Absolutely not.

He’s got that whole “reserved and composed” thing going on, and the idea of being openly mushy in front of others? Yeah, hard pass.

But here’s the plot twist: when it’s just the two of you? Total cling mode.

When Geo’s guard is down, he’s secretly so affectionate it’s almost like a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Imagine this: you’re just minding your own business—maybe reading, scrolling on your phone, or binge-watching something—and out of nowhere, you feel his arms snake around you. He doesn’t say a word; he just pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder or burying his face in your hair like it’s his personal safe haven.

It’s his way of saying, “You’re my peace,” without actually having to string the words together. Subtle? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Geo isn’t heartless—not by a long shot. He cares so much, he just doesn’t always know how to package those feelings into neat little boxes with bows on top. He’s the type to skip the love letters and dramatic proclamations and go straight to showing you how much you mean to him.

Actions over words, always.

And okay, let’s be real—some of us can relate to that. Maybe feelings aren’t the easiest thing to express, so we see a bit of ourselves in Geo. It’s not that he’s cold or distant; he’s just navigating his emotions in his own quiet way. And when he finally lets his guard down? That’s when you see his true colors.

After pulling you close, Geo turns you around, his hands lingering gently on your arms. His touch is feather-light, deliberate, as though he’s giving you a moment to realize what’s happening. He pauses, his fingers brushing against your lips in a way that sends a quiet thrill down your spine.

His eyes lock onto yours for a heartbeat—then they drop to your lips, lingering there just long enough for you to feel the tension in the air. When his gaze meets yours again, there’s something unspoken in his expression, a question he doesn’t need to say out loud: Is this okay?

And then, he leans in. It’s not rushed or overly dramatic; it’s a simple, slow movement like he wants to savor every second. His lips meet yours softly at first, testing, then growing a little firmer as he presses closer. It’s the kind of kiss that says a thousand things he wouldn’t dare put into words—trust, vulnerability, and a quiet kind of devotion he’s still figuring out how to show.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and steady as he lingers there for a moment. It’s like time stops, and nothing else matters except the two of you in that little bubble of intimacy.

Geo’s not about grand gestures or big, romantic speeches. But this? This is his way of telling you everything. His actions speak volumes, and each small touch, each lingering look, is filled with a kind of tenderness that words could never capture.

And maybe that’s the most Geo thing about him—he doesn’t need to shout his love from rooftops or drown you in cliché romance. Instead, he gives you moments like this. Moments that feel raw, honest, and entirely yours. Moments where he silently tells you, “You’re my world,” without ever saying a word.

Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

✑ Flaws? There’s a few…

Now nobody’s perfect—not even our polished, broody archer. Geo’s got his fair share of flaws, and honestly? They add to his charm in that I-don’t-know-why-I-like-this-but-I-do kind of way. 

First of all, he’s stubborn as hell. Geo’s stubbornness could rival a brick wall and spoiler: you’re not winning an argument against him. Once his mind is made up, that’s it—game over. Whether it’s something as simple as how to fold laundry (he has a system) or something as big as life choices, he sticks to his guns like they’re glued to him. 

Convincing him to budge? Good luck; you’ll need it.

Second, he doesn’t believe in second chances. Mess up once, and that’s it—you’re done. Geo’s not the type to forgive and forget; it’s more like, “You did what? Cool, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He’s incredibly selective about who he lets in, so if someone breaks his trust, they’re out for good. 

It’s harsh, but for Geo, it’s about protecting himself.

Third, picky with a Capital P. Geo’s the kind of person who knows exactly what he wants, and if something doesn’t meet his standards? Nope. He’s picky about everything—his appearance (always flawless), his environment (no mess, no chaos), and even the people he surrounds himself with. 

If you’re lucky enough to pass his “quality control,” congrats, you’ve made it to the inner circle.

Lastly, Geo’s got walls on walls. He’s not about to open up to just anyone, and even once he does, it’s a slow process. He’s constantly watching, analyzing, and second-guessing people’s intentions. It takes someone special to get through that, and even then, he might still keep certain things locked away.

So, What Does This All Mean?

Geo’s flaws can make him seem intimidating and hard to approach, but they’re also part of what makes him so uniquely him. His stubbornness shows his determination, and his lack of second chances highlights how much he values loyalty and his pickiness. Well, it’s just another way he shows that he’s got high standards—whether for himself or the people around him.

At the end of the day, Geo’s trust issues are a double-edged sword. They make him fiercely loyal to the people he *does* trust, but they also mean it takes a long time for him to get there. 

Still, if you’ve made it into his inner circle, congrats—you’re probably one of the few people he truly feels safe with. And that? That’s priceless.

Is he perfect? Nope. 

But would we want him any other way? Not.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

Okay, let’s get this out of the way again: Geo has serious trust issues. And honestly? Can you blame the guy? He’s been through (we don’t know about) so much that his walls aren’t just up—they’re basically a fortress complete with a moat, a drawbridge, and probably a dragon or two guarding the gate.  

Here’s the deal: nobody really knows Geo. Like, we know he’s loaded, he’s ridiculously good with a bow, and he has a death glare that could probably stop traffic. But beyond that? Nothing. It’s like his life story is classified information, and we’re all just stuck guessing what’s in the classified files.  

So anyway, Geo used to be High Class—fancy, untouchable, the whole package—but then bam some kind of near-accident happened, and he got booted down to the Low-Class building. Can you imagine the whiplash? Going from being at the top of the food chain to the bottom? That kind of thing doesn’t just bruise your ego; it leaves emotional scars. 

And let’s be real, Geo doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to sit down and talk about his feelings and thoughts.

And then there’s Hyugo, Geo’s stepbrother and certified mortal enemy. 

If you’ve played the game, you already know the vibes. Mention Hyugo’s name around Geo, and boom—instant disgust. Like, man doesn’t even try to hide it. His whole face scrunches up like he just smelled expired milk. And then, he hits you with the classic, “Nope, we’re not talking about that.” No explanation, no backstory, just vibes. It’s lowkey hilarious how much he’s committed to pretending Hyugo doesn’t even exist. For me.

I feel like Hyugo has something to do with Geo’s big fall from High Class. Like, maybe Hyugo was the one who caused whatever accident messed up Geo’s status. Was it on purpose? Was it an accident? Who knows! But Geo clearly decided, “Yeah, you’re dead to me.” Now, the name “Hyugo” might as well be a four-letter word in Geo’s dictionary.

And then there’s Crowe—the only person Geo actually trusts. And you know that didn’t happen overnight. Crowe probably had to work overtime, chipping away at Geo’s defenses like he was mining for gold. It was probably like:

Crowe: “Hey, let’s be friends.” Geo: Stares in suspicion for six months straight. Crowe: “Alright, cool, I’ll wait.”

If it took Crowe that long to get through, what does that mean for literally anyone else? Good luck, because Geo ain’t handing out trust like candy.

Now, let’s talk about you. Geo doesn’t say much to you, but the way he just… stares at you? Constantly? It’s like he’s trying to solve some crime scene in his head and you’re the number-one suspect. You’re just standing there like, “Uh, did I do something wrong? Or do I just look suspicious?”

Honestly, it’s so awkward and funny. Like, dude, either spill whatever you need to say or stop looking at me like that. But nah, Geo’s gonna stay quiet, because why use words when you can silently judge someone instead?

That’s the Geo experience in a nutshell.

Maybe he doesn’t trust you because of something to do with Crowe—like, maybe he thinks you’re toying with Crowe’s feelings ouch, judgmental much?. Or—plot twist—he’s onto something way bigger. What if he already knows you’re being stalked by whatever creepy thing is lurking in the shadows, and he’s just keeping tabs to figure out why it’s after you?

Who knows?

But here’s the thing about Geo: in the game, he’s not super complicated to figure out. He’s more of a supporting character—like that mysterious friend everyone secretly simps for but who tragically isn’t dateable. Pain. He’s just this quiet, chill dude with sharp words, killer aim, and a ponytail that probably smells like fancy shampoo. And somehow, he’s still everyone’s type. Go figure.

So yeah, Geo’s like a locked box made of solid silver—fancy, mysterious, and absolutely refusing to open. Respect the whole “keeping it classy” vibe, but come on, man—just crack the lid a little!

We’re starving for answers!

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

[bedouinpoet]

Leader, lover, sir, and broken dream Part 2

Part two of the three. Hope you enjoy my lovelies. Part three coming soon.

warning: 18+ only, smuuuut 🫣dom Hotch, mentions of drug and alcohol use, cheating.

Chapter 2, High on Hotchner

1 year later…

You and Hotch never spoke of that kiss after that, you secretly hoped he was more willing to fight for you. But the case went by easy enough. You found the supposed “short white dude” however despite his insecurities he didn’t match your profile especially when you realized the unsub was a woman. You and Reid figured out it was Victoria Baird’s friend Lindsey who had been doing the kidnapping and murdering, jealous of the attention the girls had, feeling she had deserved it more, you found Victoria alive, and the case was a classic profile. After that case you and Reid got closer, he’d invite you to movies in the park every Sunday, and your friendship grow and you were so glad to have an uncomplicated love, a friendship, and even though you two were just friends, when around Hotch, you made sure to hug him more, lean your head on his shoulder, tease him. Maybe you wanted to punish Hotch, or maybe you were just a glutton for punishment, but you wanted Hotch to be jealous, you wanted him to fight for you, to want you, maybe that was toxic but you felt like he deserved it. However even that didn’t last, because one year after that Kiss Aaron Hotchner moved on, and got a girlfriend, Beth. And you couldn’t even deny it, she was great, great with Jack, great for Hotch, clearly made Hotch happy but it seemed everyone else already knew about Beth except you, you were the last to find out after supporting him during his triathlon. At first you were gonna ignore it, brush it off but it simply kept biting at you, finally Pen made a good point that you couldn’t argue.

“if you and Hotch are actually gonna at least be friends then BE friends, that means TALKING! My lovely lovely iron heart girl. Actually talking, even about the icky uncomfortable talks about feelings-“ she had a point so here you are waiting, waiting for Hotch to be alone and once Garcia leaves she gives you a thumbs up and whispered “good luck” and you make your way to his office. You tap gently on his door, but it’s enough to get his attention. He looks up at you in momentary surprise but quickly reverting back to his usual serious disposition. “Y/n? What’s up?” You stand awkwardly in front of his desk, trying desperately to not remember all the things you two did on that desk, and his chair, and the sofa, and the floor. You sit down so he doesn’t see your legs shake as you get hornier, closing your legs and you clear your throat. “I just wanted to talk to you about something if that’s okay?” “of course” he puts his hands on his desk casually and you refuse to look at those stupid sexy big hairy hands. “Hotch….why didn’t you tell me about Beth? I mean….it just seemed like everyone else knew about her? Specially Dave BUT me, and I thought we agreed we were gonna try to be friends-friends mention that sort of thing Hotch-“

”do they?” His tone seemed accusatory and you didn’t get why but his face remained the same furrowed eyebrow way “what?”

“Well you said friends say these kind of things but when I asked you on repeated occasion what’s going on between you and Spencer Reid, you tell me its none of my business or accuse me of only asking because I am jealous.”

you feel your cheeks flush with shame but that heat then turns to anger and defence “that’s different Hotch and you know it-“

“how so?”

you feel your attitude showing up even though you told yourself not to make this an argument, every time you two have spoken you end up bickering “because I’m not accusing you of boning a co worker AGAIN first Morgan then Reid, Jeeze it’s like you think heaven forbid someone could just be friends with me without me wanting to fuck em!? And for your information no. Me and Reid are just friends. Close friends sure, but friends….and if that’s seriously why you didn’t tell me about Beth that’s pathetic and petty as hell!”

You feel in your gut you crossed the line by calling him pathetic and petty as he clenches his fists almost shaking. His eyes became an absolute storm. For a moment you want to push that storm further, you want him to punish you for such ‘insubordination’ but you feel yourself stop, he’s with someone you remind yourself, this isn’t a game. But that look, that dark foreboding, domineering look that drives you crazy and it gives you the courage to not back down. As he continues

“you really expect me to believe that? I see how you two are together, always hugging, hands on each other-“

”yes because we’re FRIENDS! I hug my friends, I’m like that with Morgan too and with Pen, my love language is touch you know that.” He scoffs “well that’s pretty unprofessional in the work space-“ you raise your eyebrows in absolute shock you can’t help but laugh, that feeling of Deja vu again becoming overwhelming but this time you aren’t backing down, you wont give him the satisfaction of submitting. “Are you fucking serious right now? I think we both know that argument is null in void Hotchner or are you forgetting the last time we had this talk, as I recall THAT time it was jealousy and you speak of professionalism here when you didn’t give much of a shit about professionalism when you bent me over that desk and fucked me to next Tuesday!? And you know what I think that’s what this is about…I think you ARE Jealous still!” You spot a blush on Hotch’s cheeks, as his eyes darken at the mention of what he did to you but then he averts his eyes for split second. Then he re builds his composure, his confidence resurfaces when he scoffs and rolls his eyes “Don’t be ridiculous y/n….i am your boss, no one else speaks to me the way you do and yet maybe that’s my fault I let it happen too long and you think this behaviours is ok-“

“Don’t scold me like a child and your diverting-“ your blood begins to boil over.

“Then stop acting like one! And I’m not jealous of anything, I have nothing to be jealous of” his face falls in guilt as he sees the pain in your eyes. That struck you far harder than expected with absolute burning venom to your veins. It takes the breath out of you and the fight out of you too. You feel you really may have been stretching it thinking he still cared for you in that way. You stand up, your body moves as your mind shuts down. “Y/n where are you going?”

“I didn’t come to argue Aaron….I mean Hotch….I just want to be friends” your feel tears in your eyes yet you can’t seem to cry. You finally look at him as his voice turns gentle “y/n I-“

“its fine Hotch….I’m sorry for overstepping, I thought we were friends I guess I was wrong….see you Monday Boss”

with that you left. The idea of staying in any proximity to Hotch was something you couldn’t bear right now…

…

You spent the first two hours at home crying and drinking, then drinking and reading, then putting on your tv flipping through channels, passing every romance movie with venom and hurt. Until you finally land on one your favourites “Ha! Halloween movie marathon perrrrfect Fuck romance” you slightly slur to the empty room, you order a pizza and some wings and start to watch, after having some wings you feel yourself slightly sober up. That’s when you remember you have a few joints somewhere hidden in the kitchen, you rummage through, desperate for a new distraction. What were you thinking, acting so cocky with Hotch!? Thinking he was jealous when he has…Beth. You finally find the pack you hid for a rainy day and dam it was storming in your mind. You sit down and light up the first joint, after the fifth puff you’re already glad you remembered these little delights when ‘knock knock knock’

“fuckl!” You whisper blowing out your puff waving the smoke away like that will get rid of the smell,

knock knock knock

“yes yes yes alright I’m coming!”

You open your door roughly only to stop dead almost losing your breath as you see Aaron Hotchner, disheveled, tired eyes, standing at your door ‘fuck…I am too damn drunk and high for this’ you think as anxiety fills you that Hotch, a unit chief of the FBI, Aaron Hotchner a fricken Profiler will definitely spot the dilated pupils, the smell, your change in character….have you been standing here too long?

“um y/n? M-may I come in?” You move aside still scared to talk like you’ll shout “I’m stoned as fuck right now dude” so you stay quite as he steps inside, his faint smell of cologne makes you want to swoon into his arms. You notice even his clothes are disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, no suite jacket, shirt wrinkled, now your scared

“Urrrmm….Hotch? What’s wrong?”

those joints are really starting to kick in and all you could think is how thirsty you were and not just for water, hoping this will be quick visit so you can help yourself. You also really need to sit down.

“Nothing….i just- y/n I hate the way we ended things today, can we please just talk? Please?” You feel your breath quicken but you can’t say no to his pleading. But you did way too much weed for a serious conversation “are you okay?” You just nod “water want some?” Is all you Can say. He smiles thankfully“sure thanks”

“cool…sit down I’ll bring us”

you fill your cup and chug it down for dear life then fill it again and a cup for Hotch.

You start to whisper to yourself “don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip” you slowly give him the cup as your eyes widen as you realize how fucked you are, you see all the bottles on the table in front of Hotch….and the joints. You notice a slight knowing smirk pulling at his lips

“thaaaat….is….medicinal” the smirk becomes a full blown laugh like honey “did you ever really believe that when someone told you the same lie?”

“Nah, I usually look the other way when it comes to weed, what are you gonna do cuff me?” You wink and his eyes turn from light laughter to darkness, your mouth is dry but your panties become wet.

“You know you shouldn’t admit that to me, I’m your boss”

you shrug sitting down next to Hotch and lift one of the fresh joints “we’re off the clock and this is my home, right now you’re just some dude who knows where I live” he merely laughs and shakes his head “ok fair point” he starts to watch you intently as you lift the joint to your lips, in your mouth as you light it up. Being the brat you are you take a deep inhale. You look back at Hotch and smirk “want some?” You offer it to him and he seems clearly hesitant.

“Oh sorry you probably have to go to Jack I wont keep you-“

“actually Jack is having a sleep over at a friends house and….well Beth lives in New York now”

“Oh….im sorry that must be tough with your schedules”

He looks away from you and you fear you said something.

“Yes I suppose but I go when I can and vice versa”

“that’s good at least…so….since you don’t have to drive I repeat the offer….want some? You can crash on my couch if you want….unless your scared, goody two shoes” low blow but thankfully his laugh shows he knows your teasing and he takes the joint and inhales like a pro. Your shock evident as he laughs and inhales again.

“Aaron-I don’t know your middle name- Hotchner….have you smoked weed before?” You puff twice before handing it back to him….He tries to not cough as he laughs

“goody two shoes? What are you twelve? Who says that now?” You find yourself laughing uncontrollably, a proper laugh, that rolls off you effortlessly. You haven’t felt this in a long time “maybe, now answer the question doody head” you take the joint from him. He laughs and shakes his head

“Well I wasn’t always the ‘goody two shoes’…I used to actually be the problem child when I was young, I was always getting into stupid trouble…” he paused like deep in thought, you shuffle closer beside him and nudge his knee “so? What happened to make the Hotch we all know and love today?” You hope he didn’t notice you saying love and he clearly doesn’t as he takes two rather large puffs and passes it back “I grow up…I figured I had two choices, keep making the same bad choices or be the person my family needed me to be after my dad died. I had to be there for Sean and mom and I wanted….I wanted to be good enough for Haley” he trails off again and you allow the moment of silence for her… and for him. Finally you clear your throat passing it back “well…sounds like little Aaron was pretty smart and I’m glad he made the choices he did or else we wouldn’t have you” you kiss his cheek like it was the most natural thing to do…Fuck your stoned, why did you do that? Hotch blushes and smiles flustered, his smile allows you to breath a little…”thanks y/n”

“Any time hun”

you look into those velvety chocolate eyes, his eyes are blood shot but his pupils become so dilated you wonder if that’s all the weed or if, like you, he’s horny as hell, your eyes dart between his eyes and mouth and you notice him doing the same, staying on your lips long enough to make you lightly lick them. You feel as if times stopped and the air is heavy, the room closing in. Hotch opens his mouth to speak a few times still flustered “I should-“

“yea”

and without a thought you grab his shirt and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, you stop only for a moment to make sure he is ok but as you looked at those eyes, that handsome, painfully loving and brave face, without thinking you say. “I shouldn’t have turned you away….i was in so much pain that day and I was scared, even though I wanted you….want you…so bad…I need you right now Aaron” his eyes darkened looking at your pleading horny filled eyes, you were so wet it was uncomfortable sitting so still.

“y/n-“ he searches for what to say, so you stop him “please ….Aaron”

Hotche’s breathing hitches at the sound of his name, you can tell he’s holding back, like an animal in a cage, but that cage is wavering. You start to squirm needing to feel his touch so bad. You damn near pout lightly caressing his leg. “Fuck it” he growls as he grabs you by the neck and pulls you in for a kiss that feels like it can consume you. His touches rough, needy, possessive he grabs your jaw holding it tight as he growls “open your mouth baby” you obey without question and he puts two fingers in, you suck them desperately, he quickly hisses as you start to palm the hard-on that’s fighting against his pants. He stares at you sucking his fingers like it’s the hottest thing in the world “fuck sweetheart the things I want to do to you”

“do it…do all of it…punish me sir please I need you” he shoves his fingers back in your mouth this time rougher, like he’s angry.

“want me to punish you for being the pretty little tease you are hmm? Want me to punish you for all your insubordination, looking at me with those eyes, wearing those dresses, showing off what I can’t touch, you know how much that killed me? Trying to make me jealous huh?” All you can do is gag just wishing he’ll use his cock soon, he takes his fingers from your mouth grabbing you by the neck “answer me baby…I wanna hear what you want” you stutter, trying to think of words as you feel his touch like a drug under your shirt moving up to your breasts (thank gosh you decided not to wear a bra right now) he pinches your nipple “answer me y/n” he pinches harder and you shout “fuck! Yes….yes sir I want-fuck- I- need you to punish me, fuck me, let me taste please sir” if this was anyone else you’d feel pathetic but with Aaron….it felt right, you wanted it and more so right now with how high you both were, every touch felt like an orgasm you just needed more. “p-pl-please…Daddy”

It was the first time trying that nickname but it had the effect you hoped for. Aaron growled and gave a gutteral moan and his lips was on yours, this time biting your bottom lip so hard it bled, he stood up and his every action just got you wetter as he looked down at you, slowly taking off his belt “be a good girl, take off your shirt now” you feel yourself shake at his gaze as you take your shirt off slowly, anything for more. He unzips and lowers his pants and boxers just low enough for his cock to spring out. You forgot how big his cock was you swallow at the idea of having it down your throat, excited as you see the pre cum glisten his tip. Hotch grabs your jaw tight forcing you to look up at him. “Open wide sweetheart….wider” you open as wide as you can, your tongue sticking out to finally get a taste. He smiles down at you like a sight to behold “mmm good girl, you’re gonna take my cock like my good slut and you don’t stop till I say so….nod that you understand and agree babe” you nod repeatedly just needing to feel it. Without warning he shoves his cock deep down your throat, you gag and choke but you just want more as you put your hand at his base, he doesn’t let up, he pulls your hair thrusting hard….you wanted punishment, he’s going to give it to you

“fuuuuuck y/n your mouth feels so damn good! Fuck that’s right take it baby…you wanted to get me jealous huh? Knew it would drive me crazy seeing Reid and Morgan’s hands on you- fuck!” His legs almost buckle when he thrusts so deep your nose touches the little hairs at his base and you gag

“fucking take my cock and remember who you belong too”

hearing his possessiveness through his guttural moans as he grunts and thrusts deep down your throat drove you crazy, you had to touch yourself or you’d explode. You put your hand down your shorts and you rub your clit, moaning and gagging on his cock, his hands tight gripped on your hair. You hear Hotch’s laugh, a dark, horny laugh “you just can’t wait huh sweetheart? Your pussy needs it huh….what does your pussy need baby tell Daddy?” He finally lets you breath, the tip of his cock playing on your lips, slapping your face

“you sir, please, my pussy needs you Aaron please”

he cups your face the first moment of gentleness and for a moment you think he will give in. He rubs his thumb on your bottom lip, smirking with dark eyes like he has plans. “You really thought I was gonna make it so easy? Tsk tsk tsk you’re gonna suck my cock a little longer and no touching that clit unless I say-“ you start to whimper “but-“

“no buts, give me your hands” you obey reluctantly, confused and excited for whatever he has planned. He grabs your wrists with one hand, grabbing his belt with the other. You watch in excitement, heated, needy awe as he ties your hands together. He keeps a hold of your tied hands while he uses his other to continue pulling your hair. Full control of your body. His breathing staggering as he orders

“open”

you obey taking every inch until you gag, the moment he hears those sounds he thrusts harder and harder. Your throat burns but you don’t want it to stop, even for water, you feel tears start to roll down your cheeks, your spit down your chin, all of it just makes Aaron rougher, his breathing ragged as his thrusts become more sporadic. You know he’s close you suck his cock like your life depends on it. “fuck y/n!” with that final thrust you feel his cum down your throat and coat your mouth. He thrusts a few more times just to make sure every drop is down your throat. As he gets out he closes your mouth “swallow babe” you do “again” you do and open your mouth just to prove you swallowed it sticking your tounge out. Hotch takes his opportunity putting your tongue in his mouth kissing you as he takes off your shorts. Caressing every part of you then pinching your nipples hard enough to make you shout “Aaron!” He pinches again as he kisses down your neck biting hard at your pulse point….you know he’s gonna leave a million marks and it only turns you on more.

“A-Aaron please I need you I-i can’t wait please” your pleading evident in your entire body as he looks at you with those caramel eyes and you know he’s given in. He kisses you gently “let’s go to your room it’s time your pussy got some attention sweetheart”

his boxers and and pants already off the only thing standing between you and Aaron Hotchner’s naked body is his dress shirt and loosened tie…you take his hand leading him to your bedroom, as you smile back at him you see Hotch taking off his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt with one hand….fuck what those hands could do. The second you close the bedroom door after you, Hotch pins you to the door hard enough to knock the wind out of you and no time to take a breath with his lips on yours again, you start to pump his already hardening cock as you feel his fingers tease your clit at an excruciating pace, you can’t remember the last time you felt so good and remember that it was always like this with Aaron, like he knows your body and every weak spot you have. You grasp his hair for support as he sticks two fingers in you relentlessly and you grab his hair harder as he groans. “sir..please no more teasing I need you so bad”

with your final plea he lifts you and takes you to the bed, putting you down and in that moment he’s on top of you, you feel an overwhelming sense of warmth, this feeling like everything is right, he looks in your eyes and you can see he feels the same way “y/n- I-i love you”

your heart pounds at the unexpected confession and you feel speechless all you can do is kiss him over and over as he adjusts himself to your entrance and thrusts home. First at a slow pace allowing you to adjust to his size, but then he stays at that pace to tease you until you wrap your legs around his waist, just wanting to feel every inch of him stretch you, with that his pace turns relentlessly harder, and harder and harder as he pulls your hair and bites your neck, your shoulder, cupping and squeezing your breasts as you moan his name over and over as he groans and grunts, and praises “you feel so good honey so fucking good” it’s like candy to your ears and you can’t get enough as you feel that coil inside you about to snap, you scratch down Hotch’s back and you clench his cock, moaning in unison as you orgasm on him and he fucks you through it. Your entire body shakes and you feel Aaron’s pace go harder and faster as he chases his own high. Until he’s about to pull out but you keep your legs wrapped around him

“y/n I’m about to cu-“

“in me please I wanna feel it” with that permission he lets go thrusting hard and deep making sure his seed is deep inside. For a few minutes you both just stay there. His head nuzzles in your neck as you play with his hair, his cock softening inside you. “I think you should sleep in my bed tonight….couch is too far away and I’m cold”

he laughs in your neck “oh I see, I’m supposed to be just your heated blanket?” You nod excitedly

“yup…no other reason Mr Heated blanket you run hot I need heat it’s like free heating”

he laughs again and you could listen to that sound for eternity as he stands up and you feel his warmth missing and it makes you whimper he leans in to kiss your forheard “I’m just getting us some water sweetheart….that was a lot of marijuana you need to stay hydrated, do you need anything else honey?”

You try to think but all you do is stare at that man’s body so you smile and shake your head “just hurrry I’m cold” he takes a moment to look at you and leaves. You start to really get cold so you snuggle under the blanket making sure to keep the space for Hotch as he comes back in. He hands you a cup “drink” you take the cup “thanks” you’re about to put it down when “nun uh uh drink, that pretty mouth and throat worked hard today. Need to hydrate baby…” you smile, your heart..you feel cracks in that wall you built up. He takes care of you, he understands you, like no one has ever understood you and your after care is a piece of heaven. You drink some of the water and lay down as he does the same, taking you in his arms and holding you as close to him as possible. you both doze off in bliss….until the next morning when everything hits and everything falls apart…

to be continued

[cherrygirlfriend]

ice cold pairing: stanford!bsf!art donaldson x iceskater!reader synopsis: you injure your foot while ice skating, your best friend takes care of you. warnings: fluff! wc: 700 this is very me coded because i literally slipped and injured my foot to the point i couldn't walk properly for two weeks. or the time i fell down the stairs and broke my ankle. bottom line is; i'm as clumsy as the mc of a wattpad story. originally posted 12/19/2024

being on ice felt almost like a second nature to you, and art loved watching you skate, whether it was for an ice show or for a skating competition, watching your white skates almost blending in with the ice as you turned, spun, and jumped in a way that caused his heart to jump in his chest so naturally, he thought that it'd be a great idea to take you out to a skating rink.

you blew on the hot chocolate you held in your hands, covered by a pair of white mittens decorated with adorable pink snowflake patterns, "you do know that i skate every day?" you said with a chuckle, your brows raised and your cheeks stinging from the cold.

"yeah, but you never skate with me." he shrugged, sitting down to put his skates on his feet; honestly, he was sure he was going to fall, not having gone ice skating since he was a teenager himself; he actually had to borrow patrick's ice skates. luckily, they shared the same shoe size.

"have you thought it's because i skate every day?"

"yeah, but you play tennis with me." he quipped back, making you roll your eyes, "i just thought it'd be a fun idea!"

"it is a fun idea." you shrugged, finishing the last of the hot-now-lukewarm chocolate, before placing the mug down, starting to put on your own skates, ones you always wore when you practiced, "i just like giving you shit for no reason."

"of course you do." he chuckled, the two of you making small talk as you tied your respective skates to your feet, hoping the warm liquid would soon start taking effect and warm up your body.

you rose to your feet, holding your hand out to your boyfriend expectantly, "are you ready to embarrass yourself and fall flat on your ass, donaldson?"

"we'll see who's falling flat on their ass."

"did you put a curse on me, or something?" you mumbled, letting out a hiss as you tried to step on your swollen ankle, art stuttering and trying to get you to stop as he sat you down on the bench next to the rink and took off your skate along with wool sock, a nasty, purple spot starting to form on your ankle. "how bad is it?" you asked, and art could tell how desperate you were feeling, how badly you were hoping, praying it wasn't broken.

it all happened in a split second. you'd been doing a pirouette, something you did tens, if not hundreds, of times a day, and suddenly, you were on the ground.

"i'm pretty sure it's just twisted." art said, both of you letting out nearly identical sighs of relief. art, for your health, and you, for your skating.

"thank god." you sighed, "i haven't gotten properly injured while skating since i was, like, thirteen. i have no idea how this happened.

"maybe you just deserved to fall on your ass." art shrugged, causing you to roll your eyes and smacking his arm while exclaiming that he wasn't funny.

the moment you got home, art basically carried you onto the couch while you kept complaining that you were going to be fine, that his fussing wouldn't do any good, but the blonde immediately put three throw pillows under your foot and bringing an ice pack wrapped in a towel, placing it on your slightly swollen ankle.

"i think you should get this checked tomorrow, just in case." art sighed, "i'm just worried-"

you took his hand, bringing it to your lips and placing a small kiss to the back of it, art's eyes widening slightly, "what was that for?"

"for being fussy."

"obviously." he rolled his eyes, "i'm gonna put on some tea, and we can watch anything you want."

"anything?" you asked with a small grin, making him shake his head.

"i'm not watching another low-budget horror movie."

"you said anything!"

and before he knew it, your foot was on art's lap, an ice pack over it as he massaged your ankle, a half-drunk cup of tea, christmas cookies and a bottle of aspirin placed next to the sofa as you snored while cuddling up to a pillow, art's stanford hoodie covering you, while the blonde was trying to ignore hostel still playing on tv, instead focusing on watching your serene face.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 20 Finale

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

`

I was vibrating with excitement and nerves. I wasn't going on stage, but I would be in backstage videos and photos, so I did get mild hair and makeup. The outfit they put me in matched my boys perfectly.

I was sitting in a green room with my Omegas going to and fro around me. Doing their own things to get ready both mentally and physically. Stretching, warming up, snacking, resting, chatting, and joking around. I was flushed with joy and having a blast.

I snapped photos and little videos on my phone and tablet cameras. They weren't nearly as good as my usual, but I still wanted to document and remember this day. This first concert with my Omegas. How much fun we were having even while everyone worked so hard. It was worth documenting, even at lower quality than usual.

We all quieted down when there was a knock on the door. Like we wanted to keep our joy and chaos for ourselves. Even if there was a backstage talker camera going around.

"Oh great! Thank you so much!" I heard Chris exclaim happily to the person at the door. It's his Australian accent that catches my attention since most the crew were still Korean speaking.

HE clicked the door shut again, a plain brown handled shopping bag in his hand. His eyes searched for and found me and he baby step beelined for me. I was sitting on a chair, Ayen sitting between my legs. The odd walk caught several others attention.

Lino straightened. "Did it arrive?" Chan nodded. "Just in time!" Lino sounded as excited as Chan looked. I was even more confused.

"What came?" I asked. I didn't know anyone ordered anything. Was it a food delivery?

Chan handed me the bag. "We got you something. I wasn't sure if it would be done before the concert started." He looked a little nervous now as all eight of them stopped what they were doing to watch me open my surprise.

Giving them one last suspicious look, I peeked into the bag, only to gasp in absolute shock. Slowly, reverently, I reached inside and pulled out my previously broken camera.

She looked better than she had in years, and I took great pride in taking care of her. Brand new shiny casing, broken lens and buttons replaced and policed enough to sparkle. Even the strap, which had been wearing down in some spots was reweaved and stitched. I was in awe.

"This is far too much! How did you even find someone to fix this in just a day?" My hands shook as I smoothed my fingers over the camera in worship. This was beyond anything I ever dared to even think about hoping for.

"We all pitched in. And manager found the camera shop." Lino said.

"It was worth every penny just to see this look on your face." Minnie teased with a small, sweet smile on his lips.

"We know how much the camera means to you. How much photography means." Ayen started, patting my thigh. He was twisted oddly in order to watch me. And you are so good at it. Honestly, your work is better than some of the big-name photographers to have worked with.

I half smiled at him. "Hardly but thank you. Thank you all so much." I bit my lip to keep from tearing up. "I am so glad I became your Alpha. Even if I was terrified through most of our journey so far."

"There is a catch to this gift, though." Felix announced.

"What's that?"

"You have to take our social media photos for the tour. We have a higher standard now that we have posted your photos." Hyunjin answered.

I huffed out a laugh, eyes tearing up, and nodded with a wobbly smile. "Of course. I'll be glad to." I whispered wetly.

"And y/n?" Han prompted.

I hummed in question, waiting for his answer expectantly.

"We are really glad you're our Alpha too. Our Unwilling Alpha. Perfect in every way." Bin answered.

~Fin~

A/N: Originally, I had the intention of writing the entire concert of their first stop on the mini tour. However, this organically came out, and it just felt like the ending as I was writing it. And I'm all for listening to my writing. It sometimes knows more than I do. So, it's short, but it feels like a natural ending to me, and hopefully to you too.

Thank you for riding this roller coaster with me, and I really hope you enjoyed this short little goofy take on A/B/O dynamics.

Ko-fi fund

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie @threeopossumsinacoat @katchowbbie @kkamismom12 @whoreforeverythingspice @alienbyhan @tinyelfperson @bitterbluemorningstar @jiniretsleftear

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

[cherryswisherz]

KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER V

✷WARNINGS: cursing, pining??, farrah mentioned, xavia lore dropping, angst ✷NIYAH SPEAKS: computer fixed ayeeee!!! imma get to yalls requests now i pinky swear. idk when they'll be out but i gotchu

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

“So, Ms. Johnson,” Paige smiles at me from her spot on the ground, “What does one do for Christmas in LA?”

The original plan for tonight was for our whole group to hang out before we all left to our hometowns. So it was KK, Azzi, Yanna, Jane and I. 

But of course, nothing ever goes to plan around here. Yanna and Jane went back to our place so Jane could finish packing. Azzi had to ‘take a phone call’ but she’d been in her room for almost an hour. And KK was supposed to be picking up the food, but she had been gone longer than Azzi. 

So it was just Paige and I, her on the ground building LEGO’s and me on the couch scrolling. It was a comfortable silence, but a silence that was begging to be broken. I guess Paige decided to be the one that broke it. 

“Well, Christmas is different in my house than it would be for your average Californian.” I set my phone down before folding my hands and sliding them under the blanket. “It’s more of a production than a holiday.”

I make it a point to never talk about my family’s dynamic with anyone here. I try my hardest for those two worlds to never meet, but for some reason, I trust that Paige will understand my situation better than anyone. I think to some extent, her life is as complex as mine is.

Paige seems ultimately unbothered by what I said. “Is your family one of those weird ones that has a 90ft tree and uses rare cloth to wrap presents?” She asks without ever taking her eyes off the project she’s working on. 

“Uh, kinda,” I start, “My parents are both surgeons and all four of my grandparents were doctors. My grandpa make like, a life changing discovery before my dad was born, and my grandma on my moms side was a pioneer for black women in the medical field,”

“Sound like some shit off Grey’s,” Paige chuckles and I can’t help but to join her, because it really does sound like some shit from Grey’s. 

“So obviously they were very successful and raised my parents to be just like them,”

“Of course.”

“So naturally, my parents are just like their parents and my grandparents are very proud of them, as they should be.” I throw my hands up, to let Paige know that I’m also proud of my parents, “But then they had me. And it was my parent’s turn to shape and mold their prodigy.”

“Right.” Paige nod’s her head like she’s following, still focused on the LEGO’s.

“Except I hate blood, and science has always been my weakest subject.”

She freezes for a second before turning her head to me, now paying full attention.

“So instead of a prodigy, they got a humanitarian who protests the cost of health insurance.”

Paige winces at my words, like she understands that there’s career shaped canyon between my parents and I. “Ouch,”

“Yeah so, back to Christmas,” I take a deep breath and let it out before answering her original question, “Every year, my parents throw this big party every year, bigger than the Thanksgiving one, and it’s filled with rich people who talk about making themselves richer.” 

I decide to leave out the part about me playing the piano and how a piece of me dies everytime I strike a chord. 

“Everyone asks me how school’s going and if I’m still majoring in Sociology and when I tell them ‘yes,’ they remind me that ‘the money isn’t great in social work’, and I have to pretend like I don’t want to scream that if I cared about money then I would still be using my parents money instead of busting my ass to pay my rent and keep my grades up so I don’t lose my scholarship.” 

Realizing that I’ve started rambling, I take another breath, closing my eyes and counting to three before I release it. And Paige doesn’t say anything. She just allows me this moment for myself, regardless of any questions she may have, and I appreciate more than she realizies. 

“Nobody gets why I don’t use my trust fund, or why I work when my parent’s would pay for everything.” I open my eyes and allow them to find Paige’s. 

She looks empathetic and confused and it makes me want to run away and never see her again, but also tell her all my secrets, hopes and dreams at the same time. 

Funny, right?

“Why don’t you?” she asks.

I think about my answer for a second, trying to put it in the best way I can. How do you explain to someone that if you wanted to, you could have everything you wanted, but to get everything you want, you have to be everything you never want to be? How do you explain that you know from firsthand experience that money doesn’t buy happiness?

“Because then they’d have control over me.” I speak slowly, not sure if it makes sense to me, let alone Paige. “They’d hold the money over my head so that I would have no choice but to be exactly who they want me to be. And I’d rather live the life that I do, than pretend to be something I’m not.”

The irony in my statement isn’t lost one me. 

Rich girl want to change the world by refusing to take Mommy and Daddy’s money.

Cliche, I know. But I don’t want to change the world by not taking their money. I’d gladly accept the help from my parents, and I know I’d make much more of a difference if I had money they were always trying to force feed me. But the cost isn’t worth it to me. 

How can I, in good conscience, fight to make life easier for the middle/lower class if I’m rubbing elbows with the very people who are making their lives harder?

Paige’s response shocks me to my core. “I wish I was as brave as you.”

I don’t know why I said that. I meant what I said, but I stil have no fucking clue why I allowed myself to say it. 

Because now, Xavia is looking at me like she’s waiting for me to go further. Waiting for me to give her and explanation that I can’t give her. 

I think about where this conversation would go if I was honest about it. 

I’d tell her that I admired her ability to be honest. That I lie to everyone about everything and I think the guilt is gonna kill me before I make it to the league, which is the reason I’m doing it in the first place. I’d tell her that I wish I was strong enough to do what I want without caring about the repercussions. 

My first thought is that if I were to say all that, she’d for sure think I’m insane. I wouldn’t blame her. How can I play the victim in this situation when at the end of the day, it’s my choices that got me here?

But my second thought is that Xavia would take a second. Close her eyes and take a deep breath, and I’d stare at her lashes as they brush her cheek and hope that one falls so I can brush it off her cheek. And after that second, she’d open her eyes and tell me everything I need to hear. She’d come up with a solution to all my problems and when I tell her that I’m scared to be honest about everything, she wouldn’t make me feel like shit. She’d assure me that she’d be there when my world crumbles due to my lies.

None of that can happen for two reasons. 

I’m for shit sure not gonna chance Xavia and I’s friendship by telling her my secrets.

If my second thought is correct, I’d be forced to admit to myself that I never stopped liking Xavia. I’d be forced to admit that it might not be a like anymore. That it might possibly be something deeper and complex than wanting what I can’t have.

So instead, I feed her bullshit. 

“Uh, just-” I clear my throat, “If I had the choice to go to school on someone else’s dime, I’d take it, regardless.”

The way Xavi’s face drops makes my heart do the same. I literally watch the light in her eyes that I love so much, disappear.  Her brows furrow and she tucks her lips before sticking her neck out as if to telepathically say, ‘are you dumb?’

And I’m not.

I fully understand her mindset. And I support her choices to be independent. That sentence was just the best I could come up with at the moment, but clearly it’s done more harm than good. 

“Did you not hear everything I just said?”

“Uh-”

She cuts me off, “Because if you did, then you would have heard the part where I explained why I’m not doing that.”

“No, I know why you’re doing things your way, I just wouldn’t do the same.”

The baffled look on her face tells me she’s not pleased with my attempt at damage control, “And why not?”

There are countless answers to that question, and running them over in my mind makes me mad, more at myself than anyone else. All the excuses are my own fault. 

I’m too scared to fail.

I made promises I wouldn’t be able to keep on my own.

I don’t have the confidence within myself to trust me with my own life.

And of course, like the fucking moron that I am, I said none of that to the girl who’s now standing up front the couch, legs unfolded, bare feet barring into the carpet. 

“We all have to make sacrifices to make Xavia, and you choosing to struggle and cause a rift with your parents doesn’t seem worth the cause.” I shrugged, leaning back on my haunches, craning my neck to see her. 

She cuts her eyes at me before inhaling and exhaling. ‘Bye, Paige.” And now, she’s sliding into her shoes and grabbing her back, “Tell KK I’ll Apple Pay her my part for the food.”

I’m speechless as I watch her hips sway to my front door. I watch her arms swing the door open and I watch it close with a soft click. 

It isn’t until I watch her Uber drive off with her in it that I realize what the fuck just happened, and when I do it takes everything in me to not fall to my fucking knees. 

I just stare at the door, like if I hope hard enough Xavia will come back and have magically figured out everything I wanted to say.

But she doesn’t come back. The front door doesn’t open again until KK barges in with bags of Chick-Fil-A, asking where Xavi and Azzi went.

I can’t even bring myself to answer. 

I just close my eyes and force the tears back into their ducts before wordlessly going to my room and it isn’t until I’m in my bed with the lights off that allow the tears to fall. 

I allow myself to shake from the force of my regret. I let my lungs empty themselves out into my pillow with every sob. I allow this one time to be honest with myself because no amount of ignoring or denial will trick my brain into thinking that being Xavi-less is worth it.. 

So the rest of the night, I cry until there’s no tears left, and then I cry some more just because I want to. 

It’s not even the fact that Xavia walked out on me. It’s not abou the fact that she’s mad at me, though that doesn’t sit well either. 

It’s the fact that, for years I knew exactly how my life was gonna look. I knew I was going pro. I knew I was gonna be the #1 draft pick and I knew that in order for these things to happen, I had to make sacrifices. I had to pick the right girl, wear the right clothes, talk a certain way and dedicate myself to my career. I had to be absolutely fucking miserable and become a version of myself that I wasn’t proud of.

 And for all this time, I told myself that all this loneliness and misery was going to be worth it when I put that hat on. Because then I’d have done it. I’d have done what I’ve wanted to do since I was 10.

It didn’t matter that I was a liar. That I was keeping a girl I loved (as a friend) from being with someone who could give her everything she deserved. It didn’t matter I’d never enjoy sex again, or that the guilt of my decisons was probably gonna give me ulcers. Didn’t even matter that I’d probably go to Hell for all the sins I’d committed.

But now, I can’t stop my brain from telling me that the WNBA isn’t worth Farrah’s happiness. It isn’t worth the light in Xavia’s eyes. It isn’t worth Azzi’s peace of mind. 

It isn’t worth my soul.

The next morning, I ignore my alarm. I ignore the knocks on my door and the texts from my team and the calls from Farrah. I just lay there in my bed, wrapped in a blanket that smells nothing like coconut oil, and try to get my shit together, 

I wrack my brain and force myself to remember why I’m doing this. 

WHY THE FUCK AM I DOING THIS?

✷TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini

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[verdicloud]

does anyone else love the slight banter between demeter and bombalurina during “macavity the mystery cat”? like after demeter’s part, bombalurina gets up and sings about how hot macavity is (rosemarie ford KILLS it i love her voice), but i have a different interpretation about this.

so we all know bomba is very honest and frank about what she thinks, even if she doesn’t say it, it’s written all over her face. she mocks grizabella and gives her the singular most dirtiest, judgiest look ever. she also questions and looks greatly concerned about jennyanydots’s interest in bustopher jones. gotta love her.

bomba obviously knows how much of a piece of crap macavity is, and she knows how much he hurt demeter, whom she’s very protective of. it doesn’t really make sense to me that bomba would outright tell demeter and everyone else that she thinks the man who’s literally broken every human law, who terrorises the jellicles, who traumatised the hell out of her beloved demeter, is hot, but it does make sense that demeter used to think so, and would obsess over him so much that she’d actually get with a guy like that.

i bet demeter used to swoon over macavity and give long rants about him to bomba, who’s just sitting there judging demeter’s taste in toms like “girl get a grip”. and now bomba’s getting back at her by singing one of those rants that she had to sit through so many times she’s memorised it. it’s her way of teasing her. i think the tone she uses is the same exaggerated, sarcastic tone that she uses to mock grizabella. it’s like saying to her, “see how ridiculous you sounded?”

but ultimately, she just wants demeter to not let history repeat itself. she points to her and stresses the fact that he’s a fiend in feline shape. she also says the words “like a snake” bitterly, because that’s exactly what she thinks of him.

and then of course demeter stands up and tries to defend herself like, “oh come on, you can’t blame me. he was outwardly respectable, anyone would’ve fallen for him.” and bomba’s quick to retort with “i know right, yeah, he totally is. cheating ‘at cards’ is definitely respectable. he used to do that to you, remember?”

bomba looks at her all smug and demeter shoots her a look like “okay now you’re pushing it”. and then they carry on with their duet.

i’ll admit, demeter’s not my favourite cat in the world, but her relationship with bombalurina makes me love her like the rest.

p.s. this is so incredibly random and i literally just thought of this after i posted but the term “rose gold” is literally them and i won’t elaborate

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Marilyn Monroe: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 4: Lake..

WARNING:

This fanfiction explores sensitive themes, including mental health struggles, trauma, mentions of past sexual abuse, suicidal ideation, and things of that nature. Moving forward this fanfiction will contain intense emotional moments and depictions of characters navigating complex personal challenges such as suicide attempts & self harm. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect the real life characters or lives of any individuals depicted in this story. Please proceed with caution, and if you or someone you know is struggling, consider seeking support from a trusted professional or helpline. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 & 988

Jey woke up to the shrill sound of his nap alarm. He groggily checked the time—it was already 5:30. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his phone, seeing a text from Rhea. The message simply read: “Call me :/”

Confused and concerned, Jey pressed the call button and waited for her to pick up. The ringing felt longer than usual, each second stretching out. Finally, she answered, her voice strained. “Hey,” she muttered.

Jey immediately picked up on the tone, a deep worry creeping in. “What’s wrong?”

Rhea sighed, sounding frustrated and exhausted. “My social worker got on my ass…”

Jey’s heart tightened. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Rhea paused for a moment before replying, “Yeah, but not here, at my house. Meet me by the lake where I live.”

Jey didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she said before hanging up.

Jey slowly climbed out of bed, stretching as he rubbed his face to shake off the remnants of sleep. He made his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and spraying some cologne, making sure to freshen up before heading out. He ran his fingers through his mullet, giving it a quick fix before he decided it was good enough.

Heading downstairs, Jey took a moment to glance at Jon and Trinity, both peacefully napping on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb them, so he quietly grabbed his keys and slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The drive to the lake felt almost surreal, like he was still half-asleep. His thoughts were on Rhea—on how he could help, on the anger he could sense in her voice. He parked his car near the lake, the setting sun casting a warm golden hue across the water. He spotted her almost immediately.

Rhea stood near the edge of the water, wearing a black oversized shirt and black biker shorts, paired with simple Vans. Her tattoos, scattered across her arms and legs, caught the fading light. The ink seemed to tell stories, some he didn’t know and others he didn’t need to ask about.

She turned and noticed him approaching, her expression softening just a little. Jey walked toward her, his heart thumping in his chest, uncertain of what she needed, but knowing she needed him.

She didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in the air spoke volumes. They both just stood there for a moment, the lake’s quiet waves lapping against the shore as if giving them space to breathe.

Finally, Jey broke the silence. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Jey’s heart skipped a beat as Rhea’s voice broke the silence between them. She spoke softly, her words laced with a vulnerability he hadn’t expected. “Would it be too much if I asked you to hold me?”

The request hung in the air, a quiet plea for comfort that echoed in the depths of his chest. Jey froze for a moment, caught between the weight of her words and the gravity of the situation. He knew better than most how complicated touch could be for Rhea. Her past was filled with moments where touch meant pain, betrayal, and fear. He wasn’t sure what it would mean for her now—if it would ground her or send her spiraling. But he also knew that sometimes, when words weren’t enough, the right touch could bridge the distance between two broken souls.

His mind raced, but when he looked at her—really looked at her, the exhaustion in her eyes, the tension in her posture, the rawness in her voice—he didn’t have to think twice. “No,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s not too much. I’ll hold you.”

Without another word, she stepped toward him, her hands reaching up, her fingers trembling slightly. Jey’s heart ached as he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her in a careful embrace. He wasn’t sure what to expect—did she need the comfort, or would she pull away? But when she rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck, a quiet exhale escaping her lips, he knew.

Her warmth enveloped him. It wasn’t just physical warmth—it was the kind of warmth that seeped into his very soul, that filled the cracks in his heart. It was everything he hadn’t known he needed, and everything he never thought he would get from her.

Her nose nuzzled gently against his chest, the soft scent of strawberries and cream shampoo making his chest tighten. It was such a simple thing, but in that moment, it felt like everything. She smelled like safety, like comfort, like something so pure and innocent that Jey found himself getting lost in the feeling. His arms tightened around her, holding her closer, as if he could shield her from the world, from all the pain and trauma she carried with her.

He could feel the slight tremor in her body as she pressed against him, and it hit him like a wave. Rhea, the strong, tough woman who faced the world head-on, who had lived through so much, was here in his arms—fragile and vulnerable. She was letting him hold her, letting him see this side of her that she so rarely showed.

Jey’s breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing. Her steady inhalations and exhalations were like a heartbeat he could feel in his bones, grounding him in the moment. Time slowed, and everything outside of this small space they shared seemed to fade into nothingness. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet silence, holding each other, letting the warmth and the connection speak for what words couldn’t.

In that moment, Jey wasn’t thinking about his own struggles, his own pain. He wasn’t thinking about the mess of his life, the way he had been spiraling out of control, or how he had tried so hard to numb himself. All he could think about was her—how she felt in his arms, how she fit against him like she was made to be there. The way she needed him, and the way he needed her.

Rhea’s grip on him tightened, just slightly, and he felt it deep within him. She wasn’t just holding on for comfort—she was holding on because, in some way, she trusted him. She trusted him with her pain, her fears, her brokenness. And that was something Jey had never felt before—being trusted, being the person someone turned to when the world felt too heavy.

She stayed silent for a few long moments, her face still pressed against his chest, and Jey let her take all the time she needed. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

Finally, her voice broke through the stillness. “Thank you,” she whispered, her words emitting calm.

Jey’s heart ached at the simplicity of it. He didn’t need her thanks. He just needed her to know that he was here, always. “Anytime,” he whispered back, his voice rough, but sincere. “You don’t ever have to ask. I’ll always be here for you.”

The words felt like a promise, a silent vow he would keep, no matter what. The kind of promise that anchored him to her, to this moment, to everything they had yet to figure out together. But for now, all that mattered was the two of them—together, in the quiet space they had created, where the world couldn’t touch them, where they could just be.

Rhea’s body relaxed slightly, and Jey felt her breathe in deep, like she was finally letting go of something heavy, something she had been carrying for far too long. He stayed with her, holding her, not wanting to let go.

Rhea slowly pulled herself away from Jey’s embrace, her mind still swirling in the calmness that came with being held by him. Jey, however didn’t let her go as he kept his arms wrapped around her. She looked up, meeting his chocolate eyes with her cyan ones. For a moment, neither of them spoke, as if the silence between them was enough to say everything they couldn’t put into words. The air around them seemed to hold its breath, and the world outside their bubble seemed miles away.

Jey, with his heart pounding in his chest, looked at her and whispered, “You are… very, very beautiful, Rhea.” The words were simple, yet they hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. They made her feel seen—truly seen—in a way no one else had before. But she didn’t know how to respond. The warmth from his embrace lingered on her skin, and she found herself at a loss for words.

Rhea took in his features, his strong jawline, the way the sunlight made his hair look almost golden, the faint lines around his eyes that spoke of a life lived fully. She then spoke softly, her voice full of sincerity. “Your soul is more beautiful, Jey.” It was the truth. There was something about him that drew her in, something beyond just his physical appearance. His kindness, his vulnerability, the way he made her feel safe, even in her messiest moments.

The silence between them deepened, and they both stood still, neither one of them moving, as if caught in a moment where neither knew what to do next—or perhaps, as if they knew all too well. Rhea tilted her head slightly, studying his face as if trying to understand the depth of what was unfolding between them. Jey did the same, his gaze never leaving hers.

But before either of them could make another move, the air was shattered by a voice calling out, “Josh!” The sound of Jey’s real name was like a bucket of cold water thrown over both of them, breaking the fragile connection they had shared. Rhea flinched, her heart racing at the sudden intrusion. She turned to see Jey’s twin brother, Jon, walking toward them with Trinity by his side. The sight of them brought a sharp sense of reality crashing down on Rhea, her breath catching in her throat.

Jey quickly unhooked his arms from around her, his posture stiffening as he turned to face his brother. The moment they had shared evaporated in an instant.

Jon’s voice was sharp, his frustration evident as he approached. “What the hell are you doing here?” His eyes flicked to Rhea, and then back to Jey, as if trying to make sense of the scene before him.

Jey, defensive, stood his ground. “Nothing. We were just talking.”

Jon wasn’t having it. “Get the fuck in your car and go home.” His words were harsh, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rhea felt a tight knot form in her stomach as the tension in the air escalated. She could sense the underlying anger in Jon’s voice, and she felt small under his glare.

Jey, his jaw tightening, shot back, “You don’t have to tell me what to do.” There was an edge to his voice, but his gaze flickered to Rhea for a brief moment, as if silently asking for her forgiveness.

But Jon wasn’t backing down. His words were louder this time, tinged with authority. “As your LEGAL GUARDIAN, I have to! Now get the fuck in your car and go home!” His voice was like steel, firm and unwavering.

Jey looked at Rhea one last time, his expression filled with regret and apology. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “I’m sorry.” It was a silent plea, a silent apology for what had just happened. Rhea wanted to say something, wanted to reach out, but the words got stuck in her throat.

Jon turned his attention back to her, his expression softening just slightly, though there was still a hardness to his words. “I understand mental health and everything, so I’m gonna keep this very brief,” he said, his tone now more controlled but still stern. “Just focus on your own journey to healing and leave my brother out of this.” There was a finality to his statement, as if he had made his peace with the situation and wasn’t willing to entertain any further discussion.

With that, Jon and Trinity turned and walked away, leaving Rhea standing by the lake, her heart heavy with the weight of the confrontation. The peacefulness of the water and the trees around her seemed to mock her, the serenity of it all compared to the storm brewing inside her.

Rhea didn’t know what to feel anymore. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—guilt, confusion, longing—and all she wanted was to make sense of what had just happened. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and most of all, she felt unsure of what the future held with Jey. Could they really have what she had been craving for so long? Or was everything just an illusion, a fleeting moment she couldn’t hold onto?

The distance between her and Jey felt like a chasm now, and she wasn’t sure if she could cross it.

—

Jey’s grip on the railing tightened as his heart raced. He had barely stepped foot in the house when he heard Jon’s voice calling out his name. The weight of his brother’s tone made Jey’s stomach churn, but he kept walking, ignoring the tension in the air. The last thing he wanted was to engage in another heated argument, but Jon wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

“Joshua!” Jon called again, his voice sharp and cutting through the silence.

Jey stopped mid-step, his body tensing, but he didn’t turn around immediately. “What?” he said, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to.

Jon didn’t waste time. He was already standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes narrowed with frustration. “What the fuck was that?”

Jey exhaled sharply, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “It was nothing.” His voice was flat, like he was trying to dismiss the whole thing, but the anger simmered just beneath the surface.

Jon wasn’t buying it. He stepped closer, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowing even further. “Really? Because it looked like you two were recreating some fucking romance scene!”

Jey’s chest tightened. He had no idea what Jon had seen, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to explain himself. Not to Jon, not to anyone. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” he bit out, his voice laced with defiance.

Jon’s face twisted with disbelief, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even care about getting better?” he asked, his voice rising, the weight of the question settling heavily between them.

Jey stopped in his tracks. His pulse thudded in his ears as he glared at his twin, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I do,” he said, his voice quieter, but no less firm. “I’m trying.”

Jon shook his head, stepping closer, his voice growing even more heated. “Well, start acting like it! You’ve put this family through the wringer and for what? To blow it off and go hang out with another mental person?”

Jey’s heart pounded in his chest at the words. “She’s not mental!” he snapped, the anger flaring up again. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a step toward Jon. “You don’t get to call her that!”

Jon’s eyes flickered with frustration, but there was something else behind them too—concern, maybe even a hint of fear. His voice becoming calmer but no less firm. “Jey… do you realize what I’ve been through? What Trinity’s been through? What mom and dad have been through?”

The words hit Jey like a punch to the gut. He stood there, unable to respond immediately, his mind swirling with everything Jon had said. He knew. Of course, he knew. They never let him forget it. His brother, his parents, everyone around him always reminded him of what they had gone through. It was like a constant weight on his shoulders, like he could never get a break.

“Yes, I know,” Jey said, his voice barely above a whisper, the frustration seeping through. “You guys never let me forget it!”

Jon’s face softened for a second, his gaze shifting from anger to something that almost looked like pity. But the moment passed quickly, and he stepped forward again, his voice tightening with urgency. “So why are you trying to ruin it?” His words cut through the air, leaving Jey frozen in place.

Jey’s chest tightened, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He didn’t know how to answer Jon’s question. Was he ruining everything? Was that what he was doing? He could feel the weight of his brother’s disappointment bearing down on him, and it was almost too much to handle. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone. He didn’t want to hurt his family anymore. But at the same time, he couldn’t ignore what he was feeling, what he wanted.

He wanted to be there for Rhea. He wanted to be more than just a support system for her. But what did that mean for him? What did it mean for his family? Was he making a mistake?

He didn’t have the answers, but he knew he couldn’t keep going on like this—torn between his own needs and the expectations of those around him. He felt lost. So lost.

Jon was still standing there, watching him, waiting for a response. Jey opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he simply stood there, overwhelmed by everything swirling inside of him.

Jon sighed heavily, the tension between them thickening. “You need to figure this out, Jey. Because I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I’m trying to keep you together, keep this family together, but you can’t keep doing this.”

Jey wanted to say something, to argue, to defend himself, but he couldn’t. The weight of it all pressed down on him too hard. He turned away, his head spinning, his emotions too raw to confront right now.

Jey swung open his bedroom door, the familiar weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as he stepped inside. His hand gripped the doorframe for a second, like he was trying to steady himself before stepping into the storm that was his mind.

Jon followed him into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. The silence between them stretched thin, and Jey didn’t know how to fill it. The argument with Jon still simmered in the air, both of them too stubborn to let it go just yet.

Jey threw himself onto the bed with a soft huff, tossing the Rubik’s cube he had been fiddling with earlier into his hands. He didn’t care about solving it—didn’t care about anything right now. He just needed something to do, something to occupy his mind, because the moment he stopped moving, everything else would catch up to him.

Jon stood by the door for a moment before sighing deeply, his tone softer now, though still thick with concern. “I get it,” Jon said, his voice quieter than it had been downstairs. “It’s different, the way she makes you feel and all that… I see it, Jey. And I do want that for you. I want you to find someone who makes you feel good, someone who can help you heal. But just not now.”

Jey paused for a moment, the Rubik’s cube still in his hands, his fingers pressing on the colorful squares without any real intent. His gaze flicked over to Jon, but he didn’t meet his brother’s eyes. Instead, he studied the puzzle in his hands, his thoughts too scattered to piece together any meaningful response.

“Not now?” Jey echoed quietly, his voice betraying the confusion that he couldn’t shake. “Why not?”

Jon took a few steps forward, the creak of the floorboards under his weight echoing in the silence. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his posture rigid, though his voice remained calm. “Because you’re still… you’re still figuring this out, man. I know you want to rush through it, but you can’t. You can’t just jump into something with her when you haven’t even figured out what you need for yourself. You need to focus on you right now. Not her. Not anyone.”

Jey’s hands tightened around the Rubik’s cube, the plastic digging into his palm. He wanted to throw it across the room, but he didn’t. He just kept twisting it in his hands, the repetitive motion grounding him in some small way.

“But what if I need her?” Jey asked, his voice low. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Jon or to himself. “What if I do need her?”

Jon’s expression softened, though there was a sadness behind his eyes that Jey could see even in the dim light of the room. “I’m not saying you don’t deserve a significant other…” Jon replied, his voice steady, but the weight of his words still carried. “I’m saying that if you really want to get better, if you really want to move forward… you have to put yourself first. You can’t rely on someone else to fix everything for you. I know you feel connected to her, but she’s got her own shit going on, too. You don’t want to drag her into the mess you’re still trying to sort through. You’re not ready.”

Jey’s chest tightened at Jon’s words. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand—he did, more than Jon knew. He knew he wasn’t whole, not yet, not after everything that had happened. But the thought of walking away from Rhea, of pulling back when he finally felt like he was starting to find something that could make him feel alive again, was suffocating. He had already formed that bond with her in the little time he had.

“I don’t know how to do this alone anymore,” Jey admitted, his voice shaking just a little as he looked down at the cube in his hands. “I don’t know how to be alone. But when I’m with her… it’s like I can breathe. I don’t feel like I’m drowning. She gets it, Jon. She understands me.”

Jon’s gaze softened, and for a moment, Jey saw the weight of his brother’s protective love for him. Jon wasn’t trying to push him away. He was trying to keep him safe. Trying to make sure he didn’t fall into something he wasn’t ready for.

“I know you feel that way,” Jon said, his voice quieter now, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. “But you can’t lean on someone else to fill the hole inside of you, Jey. I don’t want you to get hurt. And I don’t want her to get hurt either.”

Jey exhaled slowly, the frustration of the last few days settling in his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the ache to fade, but it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t go away.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” Jey whispered, the weight of his fear coming through in the quietest of tones.

Jon nodded, understanding in his eyes. “and I need you to find yourself first..”

Jey sat in silence, the Rubik’s cube still clutched tightly in his hands, as the weight of his brother’s words lingered in the room.

—

Rhea approached the door to her apartment, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the day. As she stepped inside, the faint sound of arguing reached her ears. She closed the door softly, but Liv and Raquel’s voices filled the small space, their heated conversation cutting through the air.

“I can’t believe you’re defending this!” Raquel snapped, her frustration clear.

“I’m not defending anything, I’m just—” Liv tried, but Raquel shook her head and stormed toward the bedroom.

“Raquel, wait!” Liv called after her, but her wife disappeared into their room, slamming the door behind her.

Liv sighed deeply, her hands on her hips, before noticing Rhea standing by the door. “Rhea, can we talk?” she asked, her tone calmer but laced with exhaustion.

Rhea nodded and made her way to the small dining table, sitting down. Liv joined her, pulling out the chair across from her.

“Why did you go to the lake?” Liv asked carefully, folding her hands on the table.

Rhea shrugged. “I told you, I just wanted to think.”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “Raquel saw you. She saw you hugging Jey.”

Rhea stiffened slightly but kept her expression neutral. “It’s not a big deal.”

Liv sighed. “I thought this was just a ‘two friends’ kind of thing.”

“It is!” Rhea snapped, her voice defensive.

“Then why do I feel like I’m getting chewed out by my wife for letting our little darkness queen,” Liv gestured toward Rhea, “get too close to a certain Samoan?”

Rhea leaned back, crossing her arms. “Liv, I just want to talk to someone else. Someone who’s not you or Raquel. Is that such a crime?”

Liv softened but didn’t back down. “I understand that, Rhea. I do. But if you want to talk to someone, talk in group. Share there.”

“I don’t want to tell my business to strangers,” Rhea shot back, her frustration bubbling over.

Liv sighed again, rubbing her temples. “I know this is really hard, but—”

“You don’t know anything!” Rhea interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. “You don’t understand!”

Liv’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand? Have you thought about how we felt when we found you in that bathtub?”

Rhea’s breath caught in her throat. Her gaze dropped to her wrists, now lined with fresh beginning scars that disrupted the beautiful tattoos she had once been so proud of. The silence between them grew heavy.

Liv’s voice softened but remained firm. “We love you, Rhea. We just want to protect you. So, I think it’s best if you turn your location back on for us. And we’re going to set a curfew—9:30 PM.”

Rhea didn’t argue. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and handed it to Liv. Liv took it without another word, turning on the location and setting the curfew.

“Done,” Liv said, sliding the phone back across the table.

Rhea grabbed it and walked to her room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. She dropped onto her bed, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. Grabbing a pillow, she buried her face into it and screamed, muffling the sound.

The pillow absorbed her frustration, but her tears soaked through. Lying there, clutching the pillow, she let the emotions she had been holding back finally break free, if only for a little while.

Rhea pulled her pillow away from her face, startled by the sound of her phone’s FaceTime notification. She glanced at the screen and saw Jey’s name. With a shaky hand, she wiped her face, quickly attempting to compose herself before answering.

As soon as the call connected, Jey’s concerned face filled the screen. “Yo, what’s wrong? Why you crying?” he asked, his brows furrowed, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

Rhea sniffled, trying to hold back another wave of tears. “Liv and Raquel got mad at me. They turned my location back on and gave me a curfew like I’m a damn teenager.”

Jey frowned, tilting his head slightly. “What? Why’d they do that?”

“They saw us at the lake,” Rhea muttered, her voice small. “Raquel saw us hugging, and now they’re acting like I can’t be trusted.”

Jey sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s messed up. It’s not like we were doin’ anything wrong.”

“Exactly!” Rhea exclaimed, her voice cracking with emotion. “But they don’t get it. They don’t get how much I needed that. How much I needed someone else to just… listen.”

Jey leaned closer to the camera, his tone softening. “I get it, though. I do. And I’m sorry they’re coming down on you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

Rhea’s lips trembled as she whispered, “I feel like I’m suffocating, Jey. I can’t even breathe without them hovering over me.”

Jey nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “It’s hard, I know. But they’re just scared, Rhea. Scared of losing you again. That’s all it is.”

Rhea looked away from the screen, her eyes focusing on the wall. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It’s like they’re punishing me for trying to heal.”

Jey’s voice was steady, grounding. “Nah, they’re just trying to help in their own way, even if it don’t feel like it. But you don’t have to do this alone, Rhea. You got me now, remember?”

Her eyes flicked back to the screen, meeting his warm gaze. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” Jey said without hesitation. “Whenever you need someone to talk to, you hit me up, alright? Don’t let it bottle up. I’m here for you.”

Rhea nodded slowly, a small, fragile smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Thanks, Jey.”

“Anytime,” he said, his smile matching hers. “Now, you want me to distract you for a bit? We can talk about somethin’ else, or I can tell you some dumb story to make you laugh.”

Rhea chuckled lightly, wiping her face again. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jey grinned. “Alright, bet. Let me tell you about the time Jon thought he could outrun a dog and ended up stuck in a tree…”

As Jey launched into the story, Rhea let herself relax, the sound of his laughter and the lightness in his voice providing the escape she so desperately needed. For a little while, it felt like the weight on her chest wasn’t quite as heavy.

—

Flashback: Central Florida Behavioral Hospital, Miami, FL. January 2nd, 2025, 1:28 AM.

Rhea sat in the cold, clinical white room, her body folded in on itself as though trying to disappear. Dressed in white scrubs and hospital socks, her bandaged wrists rested limply in her lap. Her hair hung in tangled strands, and her cyan eyes were bloodshot from countless hours of tears and exhaustion.

The door opened quietly, and a woman entered, holding a notepad and a small briefcase. She was dressed in soft purple sweats that stood out against the sterile backdrop. Her kind smile radiated warmth as she approached and took a seat across from Rhea.

“Hello,” the woman said gently. “I’m Marina Martinez. I’m a social worker here at the Central Florida Behavioral Hospital.”

Rhea didn’t respond immediately, her gaze flickering to the woman before dropping back to her hands. “Hi,” she mumbled.

Marina shifted in her chair, adjusting the notepad on her lap. “I know this can be a bit scary at first,” she began, her tone understanding. “But I want to let you know that I’m on your side, Demi.”

Rhea’s head snapped up at the name, her jaw tightening. “I prefer Rhea,” she said sharply, her voice raw but firm.

Marina’s expression softened, though she didn’t waver. “I understand, but unfortunately, policies prevent us from using preferred names during sessions, dear. It’s not personal—it’s just how things are.”

Rhea’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Of course it is,” she muttered bitterly, turning her gaze back to her lap.

Marina clicked her pen and flipped to a blank page on her notepad. Her voice remained steady but professional. “Now, Demi,” she began, emphasizing the name gently, “do you remember why you’re here?”

Rhea’s shoulders tensed, and she hesitated before answering. “Because my best friends found me in the bathtub,” she said flatly, her voice void of emotion.

Marina jotted something down, her pen moving quickly over the page. “And for the record,” she said, her tone neutral but precise, “you’re referring to Gionna Daddio-Gonzalez and her wife, Victoria Gonzalez?”

Rhea nodded stiffly. “Yes. Liv and Raquel.”

Marina’s pen hovered over the page as she studied Rhea’s expression. “And for the record,” she continued, her voice soft but firm, “this is your third suicide attempt in four months?”

Rhea’s breath hitched slightly, but she nodded again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah,” she whispered, barely audible.

Marina leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. “Demi, I know how hard this is to talk about, and I’m not here to judge you. But it’s important for us to acknowledge what’s brought you to this point so we can figure out how to move forward.”

Rhea clenched her fists in her lap, her bandages stark against her tattooed arms. “I don’t know if there is a forward,” she muttered, her voice breaking.

Marina placed her pen down gently and folded her hands in front of her. “I know it might not feel like it right now, but there is always a way forward. And I want to help you find it.”

Rhea looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “What if I don’t want to?”

Marina met her gaze with unwavering calm. “Then we’ll start with that,” she said simply. “Because even the smallest step is still a step. And as long as you’re here, we’ll take those steps together.”

Rhea swallowed hard, her tears spilling over as she looked away. She didn’t respond, but the faintest nod of her head was enough to signal the smallest glimmer of hope buried deep within her despair.

—

Present Time

On FaceTime, Rhea couldn’t contain her laughter as Jey visibly struggled, choking on a piece of roasted potato. His wide eyes and frantic gestures made her giggle even harder.

“Jey! Swallow it!” she exclaimed through her laughter, clutching her stomach.

Jey disappeared from the camera’s view for a moment, coughing in the background. When he reappeared, his face was red, but he looked more annoyed than anything. “Damn Trinity,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Too much cayenne in this damn food.”

Rhea wiped a tear from her eye as her giggles subsided. “Are you okay now, or are you gonna die on FaceTime?” she teased.

Jey smirked and leaned closer to the camera. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.” He speared a piece of chicken on his fork and pointed it at the screen. “What you eating for dinner?”

“Oh,” Rhea replied, brushing her hair out of her face, “Raquel and Liv just ordered Chinese food. Should be here any minute.”

Jey raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his chicken. “They still mad at each other?”

Rhea let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t even know. I swear, ever since they got married, it’s like they’re on my ass about everything.”

Jey tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully. “They your guardians like Jon is to me?”

Rhea nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah, they are. They took me in when everything happened. I mean, I love them, and I know they mean well, but sometimes…” She trailed off, shrugging. “It’s like I can’t even hit my toe by accident without them asking if I did it on purpose.”

Jey chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me about it. Jon’s been on my ass for years now, even before everything happened, like I don’t know how to take care of myself or something.”

Rhea smiled, leaning closer to the screen. “It’s like they think we’re still kids, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jey said, pointing his fork at her. “But hey, at least you got two of them. Double the fun, right?”

Rhea rolled her eyes playfully. “Double the headaches, more like.”

Jey laughed, his deep voice warm and infectious. “Well, at least we got each other to vent to. That counts for something, right?”

“Yeah,” Rhea said softly, her smile lingering. “It does.”

For a moment, the conversation quieted, both of them finding comfort in the easy connection they shared despite their separate chaos.

The soft knock on Rhea’s door broke through the quiet, followed by Raquel’s voice.

“Rhea, food!”

Rhea glanced at her phone, where Jey’s amused expression filled the screen. “Hold on, Jey. Let me go fix my plate. I’ll be right back.”

Jey nodded, leaning back on his bed. “Go for it. I’ll wait for you. I’m almost done with my food anyway.”

Rhea set her phone down on her desk and walked to the kitchen. The familiar sight of white Chinese takeout boxes greeted her. She grabbed a plate and helped herself to a little bit of everything: beef and broccoli, combination fried rice, sesame chicken, and, of course, an egg roll or two. Balancing her plate in one hand, she opened the fridge with the other, pulling out a can of Dr. Pepper.

When she returned to her room, she set the plate down on her desk and sat back down, adjusting the camera so Jey could see her.

Jey, now finished with his food, had his Rubik’s cube in hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up at the sound of the soda can hissing as it opened.

“What you got?” he asked, setting the cube aside.

Rhea held up her plate with a small grin. “A little bit of everything. Beef and broccoli, combination fried rice, some sesame chicken…” She picked up an egg roll and added, “And my favorite: egg rolls.”

Jey chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “Egg rolls, huh? Solid choice. You dipping that in sweet-and-sour, or just going plain?”

Rhea dipped the egg roll into the sauce and smirked. “Sweet-and-sour, obviously. I’m not a heathen.”

Jey laughed, shaking his head. “Good. I was about to judge you real hard if you said plain.”

“Please, I have standards,” Rhea teased before taking a bite of the egg roll. She chewed thoughtfully, her eyes flicking back to the screen. “What’s your go-to order?”

“Sesame chicken, easy,” Jey said without hesitation. “Egg rolls are mandatory. Maybe some fried wontons if I’m feeling fancy.”

Rhea nodded in approval. “Respect. You have good taste.”

Jey grinned, leaning back against his pillows. “Damn right, I do. But I think the company makes the food even better, you know?”

Rhea’s smile softened as she reached for her soda. “Yeah… I get that.”

For a moment, the conversation lulled into a companionable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Rhea took another bite of her egg roll while Jey absentmindedly grabbed and twisted his Rubik’s cube again, both content in the quiet connection they shared.

As Rhea took a bite of the sesame chicken, she gestured toward the Rubik’s cube in Jey’s hand. “How long have you been fiddling with that thing?”

Jey glanced at the cube and then back at her. “This cube?”

Rhea rolled her eyes with a playful grin. “Duhhh.”

He chuckled softly, spinning one side of the cube before setting it down on his lap. “Actually… since my first suicide attempt.”

The lighthearted atmosphere shifted, the weight of his words settling between them. Rhea put her fork down, her brows knitting together. “Oh… Jey, I’m sorry.”

He waved off her concern, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “No worries. It’s… I don’t know how to explain my connection to this little thing.”

Rhea leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle. “Try me.”

Jey rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on the cube. “It’s like… when everything felt out of control, this was the one thing I could control. You know? The colors, the patterns—it’s all logical. No surprises. If I messed up, I could fix it. If I wanted to start over, I could just scramble it again. It gave me… I don’t know, a sense of stability, I guess.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “Makes sense. It’s something solid to hold onto.”

“Yeah,” Jey said quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing one of the colored squares. “It kept my hands busy when my mind was a mess. I’d sit there, trying to figure out the patterns, and for a little while, I didn’t have to think about everything else.”

Rhea took a deep breath, her own struggles reflected in his words. “I get that. I mean, I don’t have a cube or anything, but… I get needing something to hold onto. Something to keep you from spiraling.”

Jey looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers through the screen. “Yeah. And for me, it’s this cube. It sounds dumb, I know, but—”

“It’s not dumb,” Rhea interrupted firmly. “Not at all. If it helps you, it’s not dumb. Don’t let anyone make you feel like it is.”

Jey’s smile widened just a fraction, his gaze softening. “Thanks, Rhea. That means a lot.”

She smiled back, picking up her fork again. “Anytime. And, for the record, I think it’s pretty cool you have something like that. I might need to get one for myself.”

Jey laughed lightly, his voice carrying a hint of relief. “You should. I’ll teach you how to solve it. Might take you a while, though.”

“Oh, please,” Rhea teased, her grin returning. “I’d have it figured out in no time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jey shot back, the playful energy returning to their conversation as they eased back into their lighthearted banter.

After Rhea had long finished her food, she lay in bed, her room dimly lit by her small bedside lamp. The rest of the room was cloaked in darkness. Her phone rested propped against a book on her nightstand as Jey’s face filled the screen. He lay back in his bed, AirPods in, the glow of his own bedside lamp casting shadows across his face.

Jey broke the silence, his voice soft but heavy with thought. “Do you miss wrestling?”

Rhea stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. “I do… but even then, I didn’t feel like I had control over it.”

Jey shifted slightly, his expression unreadable. “I don’t miss it.”

Rhea turned her head to face the phone, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You’re hella over, Jey. Everybody’s wondering when you’re coming back.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, but… what if I don’t want to come back?”

“What do you mean?” Rhea asked, sitting up slightly, concern creeping into her tone.

Jey sighed, running a hand down his face. “What’s wrestling ever done for me, Rhea? Look at me. I don’t have no kids, no wife… hell, not even a girlfriend. What do I have to show for it? A fucked-up mentality and consistent nightmares. That’s what.”

Rhea sat up fully now, clutching her pillow tightly. “Jey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But before she could finish, Jey muttered, “It’s fine,” and abruptly ended the FaceTime call.

The screen went black, and Rhea stared at her reflection in the now-dark phone. She bit her lip, her heart sinking. She hadn’t meant to trigger him, but his outburst left her feeling uneasy.

Leaning back against her pillows, Rhea let out a frustrated sigh, her thoughts racing. She grabbed her phone, debating whether to text him or give him space. After a few moments, she set it down without sending anything.

She whispered into the quiet of her room, “I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Her words hung in the air as she lay back down, staring at the ceiling, her mind unable to settle as the weight of Jey’s words lingered in her chest.

[pacing-er]

Krakoa Era Reading List Cherik Version (part 7)

Disclaimer! There are a lot of titles I'm skipping in this period, simply because they focus on characters and plotlines that I don't care about. This story is complicated enough without side plots.

22. Hellfire Gala: Fall of X

I really liked this one! Any comic that shows off Charles powers is a 10/10 for me and this one is no exception. Added bonus is that he is wearing this super cute angel-inspired costume:

Also he looks so freaking pretty here omfg.

As is standard for all Hellfire Galas something goes horribly wrong, but this time it is much harder to come back from. Moira and Orchis show up with a bunch of Nimrods and reveal that they had interfered with the Mutant's medicines for mankind and installed a kill-switch which they use to take humankind hostage. Threatening Charles with mass human death, they force him to mind control all of the mutants on Earth to send them into the portals and off of Earth. Little did he know that they also hacked the portals, effectively turning them into meat-grinders which he just forced all of his people into (as far as he knows at least). Orchis then activates the kill-switch and many humans die anyways, but Charles in an act of desperation extends his powers to make it so they feel no pain and die peacefully. Idk I just thought that was a nice detail. The comic ends with a majority of mutant kind presumed dead, Emma leading the few survivors and an emotionally broken Charles sending Rogue off to "Avenge Krakoa". Very bleak stuff. It's all downhill from here folks!

23. Immortal X-Men (Issues #14-18)

Very cool, very convoluted. Basically covers two storylines: Xavier uncovering vital truths with the help of the Sinister that had been implanted inside of him, Hope and Exodus leading the mutants in the Noplace they'd been sent to after Hellfire Gala. A whole lot of twists and turns and it ends with a big reveal that I thought was super cool so I won't spoil it. Mother Righteous continues to ruin things for the mutants, and it's revealed that she was the one who hacked the portals to send them all to the White Hot Room (the mutant afterlife) in order to use Jean's power to become a Dominion. I liked Charles part in this comic a lot despite him spending a lot of it sitting around depressed in the ruins of Krakoa. At first we are led to believe that he is using his telepathy and newfound telekinesis to massacre the Orchis agents that Shaw brought there, but it is revealed to be the remnants of Sinister inside of him doing the killing. I like that it allows us to see how efficient and deadly he could be without conflicting his morals. He also has a beard in this comic which is... Something. I don't hate it.

Charles dynamic with the Sinister inside of him was very enjoyable imo. Hope and the other mutants were also very interesting, and I dig the Jewish parallels with them all stuck wandering in the desert "diaspora" in search for the Promised Land. They actually use those exact words.

That's the end of the Immortal X-Men run! This title in particular had some of my favorite moments so I'm definitely gonna pick up a physical copy for it

24. Jean Grey

Technically a prelude to the previous entry, in which we see Jean explore several different potential outcomes for mutantkind as she waits to be resurrected. It explains her appearance in the White Hot Room. Charles and Erik are in the first issue of this title, with special emphasis put on their relationship. We see Jean put Magneto into a catatonic state, believing that it would be better for mutants if he was out of the picture. Charles of course freaks out and immediately kicks the X-Men out of the mansion, and when they later return they find that Charles has restored Erik's mind and the two of them are living together. Due to the lingering effects of Jeans powers Erik is now wheelchair bound, so they're matching! The rest of this title covers Jean's various relationships and sort of serves as a character analysis.

25. The Resurrection of Magneto

I think that enough is explained at this point to read this story. Arakko was not affected by Charles command to walk into the portals, but they were busy dealing with a civil war so they are late to the game. Ororo goes into the mutant afterlife to retrieve Magneto's soul, since after the events of the Hellfire Gala Charles is no longer stable enough to lead the mutants. Some really epic symbolism and references to various moments in Magnetos history are shown, including the iconic scene from the original Trial of Magneto comic. Overall a great analysis of Magneto as a character, but the cherry on top was the focus put on Charles and Erik's relationship. Man is obsessed with Charles and it shows. Definitely a must-read for Cherik fans. I'd include some screen caps but I'd basically be sharing the full comic so I recommend you just read it.

I'm taking another break to read some older X-Men comics I got for the holidays so I'm cutting this one shorter than anticipated. Next are Fall of the House of X, Rise of the Powers of X, and X-Men: Forever! Then I need to go through Duggan's X-Men comics and see what I missed since the reading order lists I'm using and the titles on the free comic site don't match up and it's a whole thing. But I'm almost to the end! The next Krakoa era reading list should be my last 🎉🎉🎉

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90 , @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es

[wormg0rl]

"Screw freedom of speech, I wanna move to China!"

When it first began trending for Americans to switch to rednote, I downloaded the app and made a few videos describing my experience and the concerns I had.

I thought it was a poor replacement of tiktok, especially if "freedom of speech" was the goal due to how heavily censored it was.

I began to wonder- huh, what happens if this does become the "new" app for people. What happens if people do end up replacing tiktok with this app? How will the censorship affect us?

And of course, they tore me apart for even daring to try to have that conversation, saying "you don't understand!! We're protesting!! We're doing something BIG"

Which sure, I understand the whole "Wanna give an F U to meta" thing, but the people who downloaded it for what they think is an "anti government" aspect is honestly so ironic it's making me CACKLE, because babes you just switched to consuming a different countries propaganda.

And I was told to "shut up, the vibes are great" even though to me the vibes seem like everyone's on a valium..

When you see a country trying to promote itself as everyone being oddly "happy", you should get stepford wives vibes, not "I wanna live there vibes"

I almost peed myself laughing last night because the SAME people who are crying out, "gotta look out for the propaganda on tiktok now!!" are the SAME PEOPLE WHO ARE SAYING:

"they're just so happy over there in China 😀 I don't know WHAT it could be, they don't have even ONE BAD THING TO SAY ABOUT THEIR GOVERNMENT"

*face palm* Are you fucking for real?

My brother.. they are not ALLOWED to say anything bad 😭 it's not some mystic secret that America doesn't have.

"there's no homelessness over there" yeah cus you'll get arrested. And also? Yes there is. Which tiktok told you that they didnt? Because you were misinformed.

We want MORE freedoms, not less. Saying you'd sacrifice your freedom of speech even as a JOKE just diminishes EVERYTHING WE HAVE BEEN FIGHTING FOR.

And then it happened, I started seeing comments such as these:

"screw freedom of speech, i wanna move to China!"

Which sure, I know they're probably kidding, but a lot of people aren't.

I understand being broken down by our system, and I understand wanting to feel comfort and security, but in times like these we cannot even joke about being willing to sacrifice our personal freedoms.

Not when freedom of speech is already so at risk.

So this tiktok ban situation has truly changed how I view so many of you and society as a whole.

"Freedom of speech!!" was your rally cry for the last week, but now you'll jump down someone's throat and throw them to the dogs if they even try to have a conversation with you about the censorship on there and the affects it will have.

We don't exist in a vacuum. Downloading the app for an F U to meta but continuing to consume the content will have an affect. Why? Because everything affects everything. I thought we already knew that. You cannot do an action without there being a response that comes from it.

I wasn't even trying to say it was all negative affects- I'm sure there are positive side affects to this as well, but I specifically wanted to start a conversation about how censorship can have serious affects on society, trends, music, fashion, information exchange, etc and EVERY TIME i was shot down, insulted, or told "i like the censorship"

So much for "freedom of speech" huh, lol

I have begun to ask the question: "Will this app make us more complacent than we already are?" And I think I have my answer. I have seen countless people say "I like the fact it's moderated, I can just watch my knitting videos!"

They actually got their panties in a twist over me simply trying to bring up the fact it compresses your videos and affects video quality, all because they have associated rednote with being anti govt, protesting, etc.

"IF TIKTOK GETS BOUGHT BY META WE WONT BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT WHAT WE WANT"

But when I say "If rednote becomes the new standard app I'm concerned about how the censorship will affect our information trends and flow" I get called a fed (because apparently anyone who doesn't like rednote is a fed now.. lol ironic, right?)

It was interesting to watch just how happily you all gave up, and I think the people who want to take our rights away will find it even more interesting that I do!

Everyone we've been fighting against? Oh honey they're gonna loveeee the fact that SO MANY of you are willing to sacrifice personal freedoms for what you think is "comfort"

So yes, I'm judging you.

[delulustateofmind]

I was wondering what would have happened in “This is love, right?” if the reader had rejected the idea right at the start?  Like, laid down an “it’s him or me” ultimatum when Satoru proposed the arrangement.  Or even just broke it off and walked out?  Would those two actually have let her leave, bullet dodged, or would it just be delaying/accelerating the inevitable?

That’s such a great question!!

In an ideal world, none of it would have happened. Reader and Satoru likely would have broken up at some point, as he’d keep bringing up unresolved issues. But this isn’t a perfect world, is it? So, considering that…

Suguru would have gradually inserted himself into the situation, subtly pushing boundaries. He’d compliment your cooking, remark on how you could be a perfect house spouse, and even claim something like, “Oh no, my electricity’s out—can I stay over?” This, of course, would escalate to situations like sharing the bed in "Can my friend join?" and the rest of the series unfolding into its string of unfortunate events.

The best ending for Reader would’ve been breaking up with Satoru before the question was even posed. Sure, he’d be devastated, but he would have ultimately let you go.

Another good ending could’ve been leaving during that first mission when both of them were away, around when Suguru began pushing boundaries. You’d vanish without a trace—no notes, no hints. That would buy you some time to figure out your next steps. They wouldn’t have started searching immediately, at least not until they got needy, which could give you some breathing room to reclaim your life! :)

[sunny374940]

WIP Workday

Thank you @mercars-musings for giving me an excuse to post another bit of the honeymoon fic (the thing is unending).

Emmrich stopped next to a plant that had a number of butterflies flitting around it.

“Ah, Coreopsis, such a beautiful flower. It reminds me of you, dearest.” 

The plant had yellow blossoms arranged on fine stems and it was actually kind of pretty in a subtle way. It reminded Rook of a slightly bigger daisy, but he wasn't all that sure about the resemblance to himself.

“How so? Am I also cute and good at attracting butterflies?” he said, grinning at Emmrich, who plucked one of the blooms and tucked it behind Rook's ear. 

“Your cuteness, of course, is unparalleled, though I am not so sure about the butterflies,” he chuckled softly. “But the flower stands for joy, and you are ever so cheerful, darling, I adore that about you.”

He was stroking Rook's curly hair, taking special care to brush against the point of his ear.

“It also stands for resilience, and I have never met such an indomitable person as yourself.”

Emmrich was so close and he took Rook's hand in his and Rook knew his face was going red at the praise.

“And love at first sight, though I believe I do not need to elaborate upon that,” he finished, pressing a kiss to his knuckles and his eyes held such reverence that Rook felt himself becoming lost in them.

“Oh,” he breathed out. He wouldn't have expected being compared to a flower to be anywhere on his list of turn ons, but he found himself liking this a lot. 

A butterfly landed on the flower behind his ear to see whether it would be getting a meal out of this, making Emmrich bark out a laugh. 

“Your butterfly attracting abilities seem to be in good shape after all.”

But the spell was broken and Rook was horrified to find that he was pining after his very own husband.

Tagging my babes @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround, @starfleetteddybear, @lavender-tea-fling, because I'm always interested in seeing what you're working on (no pressure, though)