#i love writing & talking about writing choices

[sideprince]

I disagree, and I think that allowing her to dictate those terms gives her more power. It also erases all the trans people and otherwise queer people who found comfort and escapism in her books when they were young and different and scared and needed it, and still connect to that experience now. It erases the abuse victims who found themselves in her stories and got through rough childhoods thanks to them. There is no ONE way to experience literature, and allowing a bigoted, delusional author to decide so is both giving her undue power and influence when she has more than she should already, and erasing the people who choose to reclaim their experience with her work and have a right to. You don't get to decide how someone engages with their personal history, especially not marginalized and abused people.

You can pick up her work or talk about it without supporting her. Pirate the books. Pirate the films. Write slash fic that would send her blood pressure through the roof. Genderbend her characters. Make fan art that she has no control over and that you make for yourself and not relative to her. Go wild. Her word means nothing. Some judgmental tumblr user's word means nothing. As long as you don't give Rowling money and don't support her bigotry, your thoughts are yours, your conversations with your friends are yours, and the second you concede them to the panopticon is the second you start to slide towards fascism, frankly. And if you decide that for you, these stories are no longer something you can stomach or love, that's fine too! The real truth is that there's no singular truth - your choice is what matters, and the ability to have it, regardless of what a delusional billionaire bigot says, and regardless of what the tumblr morality police want you to do.

She's not the first problematic or even bigoted author whose work has irrevocable cultural influence and longevity, and she won't be the last. If you stopped engaging with every problematic literary work there would be no books left. The solution isn't to ignore what's problematic, it's to understand it, or reclaim it, or analyze it and contextualize it. Otherwise we never grow.

[thetarotyapper]

how will your future partner/spouse show their affection towards you? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. scroll down to read your message!! remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

۶ৎ pile I ۶ৎ

10 of cups, knight of wands, the chariot, 4 of swords, the emperor, strength, 6 of swords, 2 of swords 

babe, the cards for your reading was LITERALLY falling out. like your person had no chill😭. their energy came off as very messy and dominating. it's almost like they lose their control over you. i'm not even kidding when i say that i'm literally feeling so hot right now. like your person's energy is STRONG. phew okay with that being said, let's get to your reading hehe. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by always being there for you and protecting you. they just give off such safe vibes, it's so heartwarming. “oh you need help with this? let go of it, babe. i got this”, typa vibes. you can always, and mark my words when i say this - ALWAYS depend on your person. they're not the type to get irritated with you. they're patient, kind and also very understanding. i see you feeling all soft and giddy with them lol, and i honestly don't blame you. they're the type of person who loves taking care of their partner and they'll go out of their way to make you feel satisfied. and seeing you happy makes them happy. i would be lying if i said i'm not giggling while writing your reading. THIS IS EVERY PERSON'S DREAM PARTNER. they'll be your backbone and they'll be with you through thick and thin. they might not be very verbal about their love for you but their actions will show it. they're a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words’. OH MY GOD i just imagined you trying to reach a box in a cabinet but it's too high and you're struggling to reach it and then BOOM your person is right behind you, getting the box for you with ease. they might be someone who is very tall and i see them having nice biceps. they might like the colour black or dark colours and they might have facial hair. i'm also seeing that you might be a little submissive towards them and you will try to act cutesy and ‘weak’ in front of them so that they can help you. you can do the things yourself, but you like it when they do it for you because then you'll get to see their muscles flex. ahem pile 1, you're smart🤭. 

acts of service is one of their love languages. i'm also seeing that they'll love providing you with guidance and they'll do so with great patience. i'm getting the energy here that they might be someone who is older than you or they're someone who is emotionally mature for their age. 

they're going to show their love for you by being very fiery and passionate. they literally can't keep their hands to themselves. AHH I JUST FELT SOMETHING WHISPER IN MY EAR. they might like to whisper sweet nothings to you and might even like to nibble at your ear a lot. lots of sloppy, heated and passionate kisses coming through😳. im seeing that they will love to take you out on a lot of dates and might like to go out and do fun activities because i'm getting a lot of movement energy here. they'll also love it when you voice out what you want. they want to meet your needs. they want to be your provider. they want to serve you. 

they'll also love cuddling with you and i see that they might like to be the big spoon. they'll love listening to you rant and it's one of their love languages. they love listening to you talk. they're going to show their affection towards you by acting as a ‘stress-free’ plushie for you where you can take out all your frustrations on them. and i also see them helping you understand your emotions and calming you down. if you're wrong, they'll make you realise that you're wrong in the most healthy and understanding way, instead of lashing out on you. they're not the type to get angry. in fact, they'll hardly get angry. they'll help you release control. they'll show their affection towards you by providing you with emotional support and by helping you face your challenges. your person might take some time to open up to you and show their affection towards you in the beginning, but that doesn't mean they don't love you. some people take their time opening up and they're one of them. but always know that regardless of what happens, they'll always have your back. they also might not be very verbal, but they won't hesitate to show you how much they love you. 

۶ৎ pile II ۶ৎ

8 of pentacles, the sun, 7 of cups, 2 of cups, 2 of swords, 2 of wands, the moon, the emperor

pile 2, your person is going to SPOIL you like crazy. like omg me when🏃‍♀️🚶‍♀️. like y'all are so lucky and you deserve it!! your person is a hard worker and they're literally doing their best so that they can spoil you. BYE THE WORD “babygirl” JUST CHANNELED THROUGH HEHEHE. seeing you happy is literally all they want in life and they're going to go out of their way to see you smile. “you want this gucci purse? okay, but make sure to take something else too. don't make me look poor”. LIKE UGHHH IM LITERALLY SCREAMING. sugar daddy/mommy who?👀 hahahaa. 

your person radiates this warmth, it's so hard to ignore. your person gives a lot of child-like energy and they're very sensitive towards you. like no one is gonna mess with their partner🤭🤭. if y'all ever get married, they will literally flaunt you and they'll love saying “my wife”/”my husband” like ajahajahjahajaja. they're such a cutie patootie im not gonna lie. like awww they are such a fool for you. they'll never make you feel like you're missing something. you'll get ANYTHING you want.

your person is so fulfilling, like ugh where have you been this whole time!!! they're going to have their eyes on you and ONLY you. they might be a little submissive or they aren't afraid to be vulnerable towards you. i see that they will like it when you praise them a lot. like if you call them a good boy/girl, they're literally gonna go crazy. I WAS TRYING TO KEEP THIS READING AS FRIENDLY AND SFW AS POSSIBLE BUT I JUST COULDN'T IGNORE THIS PART. they might be like a golden retriever typa person. 

i'm also seeing that they might be a little insecure because they might feel like they aren't good for you because you might have a lot of potential suitors and they feel like you'll pick those people over them. they're constantly worried about that. and that might also be one of the reasons why they always want to spoil you so much. they're scared of losing you. and not to mention, they would love to surprise you with gifts and every present they buy has a deep meaning behind it. they want to spend the rest of their life with you and they won't be afraid to show it. they're almost pathetic for you lol (we all love someone who is love-crazy over us 🤭🤭). 

your person is also someone who is very honest and real about their feelings for you. they're going to show their affection by being completely raw and natural with you. they won't beat around the bush. they're very straightforward. they will also help you face your fears and they want you to know that no matter how hard life gets, they'll always be there for you. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by putting in the effort towards the relationship. they're going to be so patient and loving towards you. they might also like to playfully tease you in public. your person does not have a said love language like pile 1. they're all over the place, but they're fulfilling. they'll never make you feel deprived of their love. you're literally going to be their first priority. the song “no.1 party anthem” by arctic monkeys just came to my mind - the look of love, the rush of blood…. oh pile 2, your person is such a sucker for you. you've got them wrapped around your fingertips. they want to build a future with you. but at the same time, they're scared of what the future holds for them. they're scared you'll find someone better, and it breaks their heart.  you'll need to build trust with your partner and you will need to show them that you're here to say forever. they might get a little possessive towards you but it's because of pure jealousy. they might also have abandonment issues, so you'll need to be very understanding towards them. suddenly i got the energy here that they might be controlling over who you talk to and what you wear, but this can be avoided if you clearly communicate with one another. this behaviour of theirs will make you feel a little strained sometimes but you'll also have to understand that there might have been a very deep rooted trauma as to why they're acting this way. i'm getting the energy here that their family life or their past relationships might not have been that great and that is why they act this way. if you do not like their behaviour, then please voice it out. 

۶ৎ pile III ۶ৎ

page of cups, 3 of wands, 4 of pentacles, 10 of wands, the chariot, the moon, 7 of pentacles, queen of swords, queen of wands 

for some reason, im seeing that y'all would go on cute art dates or dates where y'all would like to do cutesy stuff. lots of paintings and colours came to my mind. maybe pile 3, you could be an artist or maybe your person will be. or maybe you both have an interest in art - either as a profession or a hobby. 

i'm going to be honest, either you or your person have been through a lot. one of you (im mostly getting the energy of your future partner/spouse) would have taken a break from relationships and might have even given up on love. i'm seeing a lot of hurt and mistrust here. relationships might have felt like a job rather than an emotional connection. but here's the thing, when you guys meet each other, everything will change. i'm seeing cherry blossom trees. this relationship is going to be life changing and transformative. your ideas on love will entirely change when you meet one another. this relationship is going to be a new beginning. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by making you a part of their life. they're going to involve you in each and everything and they're going to try out new things with you. i see you healing their inner child. they're going to be very expressive and emotional with you. i see this relationship moving forward very fast. your person is someone who is very creative so they're going to show their affection towards you in creative ways such as writing you love letters, poetry, painting or they might even cook your favourite meal. they might be an introvert and might be a little nerdy. 

this relationship is going to be very nurturing and im seeing a lot of growth here. your person will also help you come up with creative ideas for your work and they might also help you explore your interests and will support your ambition. they'll love to see you grow and they'll be so proud of you. they're going to be very protective over you because they have never felt this way for anyone. they might also love cuddling/hugging you a lot. your touch gives them this sense of safety. your person might be someone who is under-confident and i see them finding it hard to maintain eye contact with you. i see you helping them build their confidence and i see you supporting them throughout their journey. my dear pile 3, you're such a beautiful person. you're such an understanding person, the world deserves more people like you. i see you being so patient towards them and it honestly warms my heart. at first, they might be a little hesitant to open up to you because of their trust issues and it might take them some time. but your understanding and kind nature will help them to eventually open up. pile 3, i want to give my heartfelt thanks to you because your energy is so lovely, i feel so safe. thank you for being here, pile 3. i truly mean it. 

your person is very sensitive to your emotions so if something bothers you, it bothers them. i see them helping you with your responsibilities by taking on half of your burden and guiding you through your difficult times. they're going to help you stand your ground. i'm also seeing that sometimes they might feel overwhelmed with your love and they might try to push you away, but you understand them so i see you both working through it. your person wants to work things out with you and they want to move this relationship forward. they will be a little hesitant and closed off, but i see you both working through it. i'm also seeing that their actions will be calculated because they are scared of disappointing you or making you angry and honestly this is so sad. they have gone through a lot, pile 3. sometimes you might get tired and irritated with their emotions, but you need to understand where they are coming from. i agree it can be frustrating, but you need to realise that you're the only one they can be so vulnerable towards and that's why they are so open with you. you understand them. this relationship will progress slowly, but it is going to be a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. 

your person is not the type to show their affection in public because they don't like anyone in their business. they might show subtle and soft gestures in public. but when you both are alone, they're raw and honest. sometimes you might feel like they don't show you off or that they aren't very affectionate towards you and if it bothers you, please speak up. your person is afraid of making a move because sometimes they feel like they make you uncomfortable but you need to show them that you want them to be affectionate towards you. they prefer it when you're honest and direct with them and i'm seeing that they prefer it when you tell them what you want. communication is the main key in this relationship. 

i'm also seeing that sometimes your partner might feel bold and will be very flirtatious with you and this might catch you off guard. they are a shy baby, but underneath that surface is a whole new world that will be unlocked only as time passes by and when trust is built from both ends. they might struggle showing affection sometimes, but they'll try their best to make you feel wanted and loved.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝒿𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Oh boy… my two most possessive men in the whole damn game? Jealous!Sol & Jealous!Geo x Reader? Buckle up because this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a full-on battlefield.

However, can't blame you for just messing around, testing the waters, seeing who got more jealous… and playing with fire gets you burned. You’re stuck in the middle, questioning every life choice that led you here.  

What could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything.)

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

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: From Anonymous, if you don't mind writing it, but jealous geo and sol, please??😭 Like they both like readers and are just silently jealous of one another? I am in desperate need of more fics of them interacting 🤧

Honestly, apologies in advance—I don’t sugarcoat things. A lot of my writing is rooted in realism and what I’m comfortable exploring. Soooo, if you were hoping for a lighthearted take… no chance.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Jelly.

By definition, jelly is something sweet. A glossy, semisolid spread made from fruit juice and sugar, boiled to a thick consistency. Some people like sweets. Some don’t. But jelly can also mean jealousy. That gnawing feeling of wanting something—someone—that belongs to someone else.

And in this case? That something was you.

Not a thing, not an object, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were the prize in some unspoken battle. A war waged in subtle glances, clenched fists, and an underlying tension so thick it could choke the air out of a room.

And the worst part? You never asked for this.

Okay, maybe you did lie—just a little. But you sure as hell didn’t expect the weight of two unreadable stares pinning you down like prey, like you were something to be fought over.

Not the way Sol’s fiery red-orange eyes would zero in whenever some random guy so much as breathed in your direction, his expression eerily blank, but his fingers twitching like he was already mapping out a murder scene in his head.

And definitely not the way Geo, with his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck aquamarine gaze, would suddenly become conveniently absent the moment on the same random guy—only for poor bastard to show up the next day with a busted nose and now suddenly doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Okay, maybe you like this…

Because—let’s be real—having two tall, hot men practically fighting for your attention? Yeah… yeah, that was kinda hot. And a little pathetic. But were you about to stop them? Absolutely not.

So far, Sol and Geo hadn’t actually thrown hands at each other yet, probably because they still wanted to stay on your good side. But whenever you were with one of them, the other just happened to be around, watching, lingering, acting like your personal shadow.

Meanwhile, some poor random guys so much as breathes in your direction, and suddenly, it’s a whole different story.

Like If there was one thing you could count on, it was that Sol and Geo had very different ways of dealing with people who dared to show interest in you.

Sol? Oh, he didn’t just get jealous—he lived in it. Stewed in it. Let it simmer under his skin like a slow-burning fire, always one spark away from an explosion. It didn’t matter how harmless the situation was. Some poor, clueless guy so much as breathed in your direction, and suddenly, the whole atmosphere shifted.

Like earlier, when you were just trying to study in the library.

“Who was that?” Sol asked, voice eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that told you he was already two seconds away from tracking the guy down.

You didn’t even look up from your notes. “Don’t know. Just some guy.” That was, of course, the wrong answer.

Sol leaned in slightly, red-orange eyes narrowing. “He called you pretty.”

You finally looked up, raising a brow. “And? I am pretty.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Just drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze locked onto the exit like he was memorizing the dude’s last known location. You had no doubt that if you gave him a name, he’d find some way to make sure the guy never spoke to you again.

Geo, on the other hand? Possessive, sure. But jealous? Not really. If anything, his reaction was less ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is?’ and more ‘Why the hell are you entertaining this bullshit?’

Like when you went to watch him practice archery after class. You’d barely been there ten minutes before some guy strolled up, all confidence and cologne, asking for your number like Geo wasn’t literally holding a weapon in his hands. You were scared for him.

You were about to respond—probably to reject the guy, but you had been taking your sweet time with it—when a sharp thunk split the air.

The guy flinched, eyes wide as he turned to see an arrow buried into the tree right next to his head.

Geo, standing a few feet away, barely spared him a glance as he reached for another arrow. “Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Must been the wind...”

The guy was gone instantly, practically tripping over himself as he made his escape.

You turned to Geo, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

He finally looked at you, one brow raised. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Yeah. Sure.

At this point you was probably wondering, ‘Oh my, oh my, if Sol and Geo are on good terms with you, do they ever have beef like you said? Or do they just straight-up ignore each other?’

Well… kinda.

It’s less of a mutual rivalry and more of a Sol has serious, undying beef with Geo, while Geo, in true Geo fashion, just casually ignores Sol’s entire existence.

Of course, you’d never hang out with them at the same time. That would be a death wish. You like your life drama-filled but intact, thank you very much. So, you very intentionally avoid situations where they’d have to be in the same room for longer than five seconds.

You keep your time with them separate—Sol on one day, Geo on another. Sol is more of your side friend group situation, hanging out with Hyugo, doing whatever chaotic shit they get into. Meanwhile, Geo? He’s part of your main friend group—the one you’re actually seen with most of the time, which includes Brittany, Jericho, Jess, and Daryl.

However these been some days you’ll hang out with them along, just you and whoever. And because of this, there are definitely moments where you’ve caught Sol and Geo being jealous of each other.

Like the time you mentioned hanging out with Geo over the weekend, and Sol immediately went all dark and broody, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d just told him you were getting married and moving across the country.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he muttered, voice low.

You blinked. “Yeah? And?”

“And I don’t like it.”

Well. At least he was honest.

Geo, on the other hand, had a way of casually throwing shade when he wanted to. Like when you showed up to hang out with the main group after spending time with Sol.

“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Geo remarked, arching a brow. “Figured you were off cutting your wrist with him.” I’m sooo sorry if this offensive to anyone

You snorted awkwardly. “We were just hanging out.”

“Mhm. Sure.” He sipped his drink, giving you the most judgmental side-eye.

At the end of the day, you could ignore their little jealousy fits, but one thing was clear—Sol definitely had beef, and Geo just enjoyed playing unbothered while lowkey stirring the pot.

Then, so let’s talk about territory.

And let’s start with Sol.

Why Sol? Oh, I don’t know—he was fucking obvious.

He wasn’t subtle, and he didn’t care to be. You’d always catch his hand slipping around your shoulders, fingers ghosting over your waist—especially when Geo or your main group of friends were around. He didn’t just exist near you; he occupied your space, like some territorial cat refusing to let anyone else so much as breathe in your direction.

His touch? Not soft. Not casual. Possessive. Like he was making a statement without saying a single damn word.

It didn’t matter where you were—hallways, lunch, walking to class—Sol made sure everyone within a ten-foot radius knew exactly where you stood. And, more importantly, where he stood. Right. Next. To. You.

Then there was Geo.

Geo didn’t need all that. Where Sol was all hands-on, in-your-face, look-at-me-touching-you, Geo was smooth. Subtle. Calculated. Too composed for his own good, always watching, always analyzing.

He didn’t hover. He didn’t grab. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone was enough to send a message. The way he carried himself across campus—untouchable, like the world bent around him. When it came to you, he had his own ways of making sure people knew.

For example: the damn hoodie situation.

You didn’t even ask for his hoodie, but that didn’t stop him from slipping it over your shoulders anyway. Cold? Hoodie. Raining? Hoodie. Forgot your jacket? Guess what? Hoodie. And it wasn’t just about keeping you warm—no, no. This was branding. Because that hoodie was his. And when people saw his hoodie on you, it was like a silent warning: Don’t even try it.

And let’s not pretend like Geo didn’t notice when Sol was all over you.

He’d play it cool, act like he didn’t care, keep his distance. But you knew he saw it. You could feel his eyes, sharp and assessing, calculating like he was taking inventory of every single move Sol made.

Now, if Sol ever really overstepped?

Oh, Geo would make his move.

Not in front of you, though—he was way too clever for that. He didn’t need to start a scene. He didn’t need to flex his dominance in public.

Because by the next morning? You’d hear rumors.

Some random dude who tried to shoot his shot with you mysteriously walking around with a black eye or a swollen nose.

The whispers would be everywhere. “Who the hell messed with him?”

And you’d know.

It was Geo.

Handled quietly. Efficiently. Discreetly.

And if, by chance, you happened to notice the faint bruises on Geo’s knuckles the next day? Well. That was just something you didn’t bring up. Ever.

So, again, after everything, how do you feel about being possessed over by two men?

Like, at the end of the day, you were trapped—trapped between their heated stares, their possessiveness, their absolute refusal to let you exist without them staking their claim.

And you?

Oh, you were loving it, all in honesty.

What? If they were gonna play this game, you might as well play along. Hell, you held all the cards. You were the one pulling the strings, keeping them both on their toes, watching as they silently (and not-so-silently) battled for dominance over you.

Geo wanted to act all calm and cool? Like he was above all of this? Fine. Let him pretend. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him show his hand. A little too much laughter when another guy paid you a compliment. Casually mentioning how Sol was so protective over you. Flashing him that innocent, knowing smile whenever he tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move.

And Sol? Sol was easy.

If he wanted to claim you with his rough touches, his dark glares, the way his arm would tighten around your waist just a little too much whenever another guy so much as looked at you—then you’d let him. But only just enough to keep things interesting.

Because you weren’t about to make this easy for either of them.

You’d walk into the room wearing Geo’s hoodie—just to watch Sol’s jaw clench. You’d let Sol pull you close in front of Geo—just to catch the way his fingers twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. You’d let their possessiveness fuel the game, and oh, was it a fun game to play.

Because at the end of the day?

You were the prize. And you knew it.

And what better way to start than with Geo?

Again, Geo was the kind of guy who never had to try too hard. Everything about him exuded effortless control—his tailored clothes, his rich upbringing, the way his hair was always just right like he walked straight out of some high-end fashion editorial.

Bilingual, top of his class, a sharp mind that dissected everything in the room before anyone even realized they were being watched.

Now, you wouldn’t call him perfect, but he was definitely a step above the average man. And that, in itself, was dangerous. Because Geo wasn’t just good at handling himself. 

He was good at handling you. PFFF, I love this man

And it was funny, really. He liked to act like he didn’t care—like he wasn’t watching your every move, like he wasn’t quietly attuned to your habits. But that was the biggest lie of all. Geo noticed everything.

He knew when you were irritated before you even sighed. Knew you were hungry before you even glanced at the menu. Knew what to say to make you laugh, even when you swore you weren’t in the mood. He was calculated—never too distant, but never too obvious.

You knew exactly how to use Geo’s attentiveness to your advantage. 

He was clever, a little too clever sometimes, but that made him so much more fun to tease. So, when you casually invited him to hang out during one of your long gaps between classes—just the two of you—you made sure Sol was close enough to overhear. You didn't even have to try hard.

Sol always seemed to be where you were. Always.

He had this uncanny ability to be in the right spot at the right time. You'd find him lingering in the background, sometimes in doorways, sometimes leaning against walls like he was just passing by, yet always managing to stay just out of sight, barely making his presence known. The look in his eyes, though? You couldn’t miss it.

You watched as his gaze snapped to you the second you leaned in closer to Geo. His fingers twitched like he was holding back some kind of primal urge to pull you away from Geo. But he stayed still, just watching, quietly simmering with frustration.

When Geo agreed, his voice casual and smooth, "Sure, I got nothing better to do," you could almost feel the storm brewing behind you.

And you loved it.

You chose the place carefully. A small bakery, nestled just off-campus. It was cozy, and intimate, yet open enough that no one could barge in without causing a scene.

You knew Sol wouldn’t come in unless he had a reason—he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was one of those rare moments when you actually wanted some peace, to be able to enjoy your time with Geo without the constant interruption of Sol’s overbearing presence.

Geo sat across from you, his posture impeccable, legs crossed and back straight as if he was molded into the seat. His hands rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping softly, the rhythmic sound of it mingling with the soft hum of campus life around you. Students typed away on their laptops, murmured conversations floated around you, and the occasional professor huddled in the corner grading papers. The place felt like the calm center of a storm—a comfortable space for both of you.

He looked at you, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Why'd you pick here?" he asked, voice low, yet that sharp edge still noticeable beneath his calm facade. He propped his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his fingers tapping idly against his cheek.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know. The only place I can think of.”

Geo’s lips twitched then sighed, "Okay." His tone was amused, but there was an undeniable hint of intrigue there.

You both sat there for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then, as if by instinct, Geo stood, his movements graceful and effortless. "You want anything?" he asked, already moving toward the counter before you could even respond.

Minutes later, he returned, sliding your usual drink toward you—no questions asked. It was like he had memorized your preferences by heart. He placed a small plate beside it too, something extra—probably dessert, because he knew you liked sweets, and his attention to detail was uncanny.

You reached for it, your fingers brushing his in the process. It wasn’t intentional, but that fleeting touch sent a ripple through you. For a moment, neither of you pulled away. 

Geo’s gaze flickered to your hand again, sharp and perceptive. "Your hand," he murmured softly, his voice taking on that subtle edge of concern. His eyes dropped to the small scrape, and for a second, you felt like it was more than just a casual observation—like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. "You saw that?"

You had almost forgotten about the scrape, honestly. It had happened the day before when you’d tripped going up the stairs—nothing serious, just a small misstep as you were rushing between classes. You remembered cursing under your breath as you caught yourself on the railing, but the scrape was just a small inconvenience, easily forgotten in the chaos of your day.

Geo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers reached out, slow and measured, brushing across the skin of your palm where the scrape had left a thin red line. His touch was light at first, just skimming over the wound, but then it became more deliberate, more intentional as if he was examining it for signs you couldn’t even see.

His fingers tilted your hand gently, his touch soft but firm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. The way he lingered, taking his time to inspect the scrape, felt almost… protective. It wasn’t just the act of touching you—it was the focus, the way he seemed to memorize the small details, the way your skin felt against his.

When his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. There was something more than concern there—something deeper, something dangerous that you couldn’t quite place.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, voice barely audible beneath the soft murmur of conversation around you. His tone was almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken command.

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. For some reason, you felt like you were being tested—like he wasn’t just asking about the scrape, but about you.

"I tripped going up the stairs yesterday," you said, your voice soft, trying to make it sound casual. "Nothing serious. I just lost my balance, and scraped my hand a little on the railing."

Geo didn’t respond right away. He just continued to watch you with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out something you hadn’t said. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles again, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat of his touch linger long after he pulled his hand away.

“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze made it feel like there was more to this—more to him—than just a simple question about a scrape.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, his voice low, his thumb lingering a moment longer as though he was reluctant to let go. The space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second, and you felt an undeniable pull, a magnetism that you weren’t sure you could escape. 

And as he finally pulled back, letting your hand slip from his, you couldn’t help but feel that odd, electric tension still hanging in the air. If your heart skipped a beat at the lingering warmth from Geo’s touch, well… that was between you and him. 

The next day, you were sitting next to Sol, his usual spot on the college roof where he always claimed the corner near the ledge, as his friend Hyugo went to town on the packed lunch Sol had made for him. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sol was pissed—furious, to be exact—but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Not directly. Oh no, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t admit to stalking you hanging out with Geo, not even in the vaguest sense. So, you had to work for it.

You hadn’t even taken a full bite of your food before Sol was already speaking. "You made lunch today?" he asked, his voice far too casual. But you could hear the undercurrent of something. Jealousy? Possessiveness?

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth, and gave him a look. "No, Geo made it for me," you answered nonchalantly, barely glancing at him.

That stopped Sol cold. You saw his grip on his water bottle tighten, his expression faltering for just a moment. 

Hyugo, who had been enthusiastically chewing his food, even slowed down to glance at the both of you. "My little brother??" He blinked, the surprise in his voice unmistakable.

"Yeah," you said with a shrug, pushing your hair back out of your face. "We went out to a bakery yesterday. We had leftovers, so Geo made this for me with his own cooking."

You made a show of taking a bite of the food, trying to act casual, but you could tell Sol was barely holding it together. His face remained unreadable, but you could practically feel the simmering irritation in the air.

"Have fun?" Sol’s voice suddenly went tight—too tight. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered between you and Hyugo as if he were struggling to hold back something.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was happening. "Yup."

Sol’s grip on his water bottle tightened even more, the plastic creaking under his fingers. "Really?" His voice was lower now, tinged with something darker. The possessiveness was unmistakable.

You leaned back slightly, savoring the moment. "Mhm. Geo’s actually pretty great company, you know."

And that was it. That was the exact moment you saw something snap in Sol’s expression. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with barely contained rage. His gaze darkened to something dangerous, something you didn’t quite recognize but felt all the way down your spine. His hand, which had been resting on the ledge beside you, clenched into a fist, almost as if he were physically fighting the urge to pull you closer.

You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the raw jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

Next was Sol, of course.

You see, Sol was on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of lifestyle compared to Geo. Dyed hair, dark clothes, the entire emo aesthetic. But damn, despite all that edge, Sol never failed to make your jaw drop with the simplest actions. 

The way he carried himself, that intense gaze, the way his presence seemed to swallow the air around him. He was a walking contradiction—grungy yet perfectly composed, dangerous yet captivating.

You watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, leaning slightly toward him, you tilted your head, voice light as you broke the tension. "So, Sol... what are you doing tonight?"

He glanced at you quickly, but then his eyes slid back toward the ground, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nothing, why?" His voice was cool, but you could tell he was listening, waiting for your next words with that quiet intensity of his.

"How about we do something together?" you asked casually, making sure to catch his gaze, letting him know this wasn’t just an idle suggestion. "A little... escape from the usual?" For a split second, you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or if he was genuinely interested. 

You leaned in a little closer, watching his every move, waiting for the shift. "Maybe the arcade? Or the rooftop bar downtown?" you continued, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you named the places that were always ‘off-limits’ in some way—places where neither Geo nor any of his calculated controlled habits would be there to shadow you. 

You could feel Sol’s pulse race, his curiosity piqued, but you both knew he wasn’t going to admit it.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. You waited, knowing Sol was contemplating the idea with that unreadable look on his face. Then, with a slight shift in posture, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not both?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with that underlying tension.

You couldn’t help but smirk, a triumphant little rush sweeping over you. "Thought you’d say that."

He tilted his head at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. "You’re lucky I’m in the mood for it."

But you knew the truth: he wasn’t just in the mood for it. Sol was making this choice for a reason. He was staking his claim, showing you exactly what you meant to him, even if he wasn’t saying it outright.

"Let’s go then," you said, pushing up from the ledge and grabbing your bag. "I’ll drive."

You and Sol ended up at the arcade bar, the dim lighting, neon signs, and the sounds of games and laughter buzzing in the background. The place was filled with the usual mix of drunk college kids, rowdy groups playing shooting games, and couples lost in the flashing lights. The air smelled faintly of beer and popcorn, and the low hum of music blended with the clinking and clattering of game machines. 

You walked up to the claw game, your eyes immediately spotting a small plush sitting just out of reach, nestled between other stuffed animals. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you studied the claw’s movement. 

"Can you get it for me, Sol?" you asked innocently, but there was a hint of playful challenge in your tone. 

Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into that familiar, knowing smirk. "I’m not your personal claw machine expert, you know."

"Oh, come on. You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?" you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze, making sure he saw the way your fingers twitched at the machine's controls.

Sol didn’t reply right away, just watching you, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze followed your every move, always studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite crack. You didn’t expect him to move just yet, though—because you had a plan. 

The claw machine was already set up for failure in your favor. You purposefully timed your moves to keep missing the plush, missing the claw’s target by mere inches each time. It was an art at this point, a silent dance between you and the machine. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sol stepping up behind you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours for just a moment, the heat of him radiating even through the buzz of the arcade. His breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his chest rise and fall just behind you as he watched, his body too close for comfort, too close to be innocent.

“You’re missing the timing," Sol’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned down just enough for his nose to brush against the side of your hair. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, feel the way his hands hovered just above yours, ready to step in if you let him. "You need to wait for the claw to line up perfectly before you move it. Let it hang for a second longer."

You shivered slightly, the sound of his voice in your ear making something inside you stir. The combination of his closeness and the tension from the game made your heart race, your hand still hovering over the joystick.

"Show me," you murmured, your voice a little more breathless than you intended, the excitement of the moment taking over.

Sol didn’t hesitate. His hand brushed over yours, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he guided your movements, his body pressing further into yours. The subtle brush of his chest against your back made your breath hitch in your throat.

He adjusted your grip on the joystick, his fingers briefly brushing your skin as he gently moved your hand to line up the claw with the black cat. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against your ear as he spoke again, a soft command mixed with a hint of amusement. "Now, wait for it…"

You could feel his heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in your chest. His thumb brushed over your wrist lightly as you waited, the seconds dragging on forever.

And then, in a move so precise, you almost didn’t see it, the claw dipped down, catching the plush perfectly. You both watched in silence as it rose, bringing the plush toy closer and closer and finally dropping it into the prize chute. "Got it," you said, the words almost a whisper but filled with a triumphant smile. 

Sol stepped back, his body leaving a sudden chill in the space where he’d just been pressed against you. You turned to face him, only to see the satisfied, yet somehow unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you as you picked up the plush, holding it in your hands like it was some kind of prize—not just the one you won from the claw game.

"You’re welcome," Sol muttered under his breath, but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his lips barely twitched into something close to a smirk, told you everything you needed to know.

The next day, after classes, you found yourself lounging in the usual spot outside the campus café, the one with the low-sunk benches and worn-out cushions, perfect for chilling when the afternoon sun warmed everything just right. Crowe and Geo were the only ones free—everyone else was busy with their own afternoon classes, leaving the three of you with some time to kill. 

You’d already had your morning classes earlier, just like Crowe and Geo, getting the heavy lifting out of the way so you could enjoy the rest of the day without the looming shadow of assignments or exams. It was quiet, just the hum of conversations from other students and the occasional passing car. 

Crowe casually leaned back in his seat, fiddling with his phone, but then his gaze landed on the plush you had won at the arcade bar last night. The small plush sat beside you, nestled in your arms. It was barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Crowe definitely noticed.

"You went to the arcade bar last night, huh?" he remarked casually, lifting an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over to the plush. "Looks like you had fun. You win that?" He pointed to the black cat in your lap, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you shrugged. "Yeah, had a pretty good time." You could almost feel Crowe’s curiosity growing, but you didn’t give him too much to work with. You weren’t sure if you were ready to delve into the details of your night just yet.

But before you could say anything else, Geo, who’d been unusually quiet up until now, spoke up, his tone casual yet probing. "Did you go with Brittany?" he asked, his gaze flickering briefly toward you as he leaned forward slightly.

You tilted your head, giving him a sideways glance. "No," you replied with a small, knowing smile. "I went with Sol."

Crowe’s eyes widened slightly at that, his interest piqued. "Sol?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The guy you partner up with in your art gen ed?"

You nodded, glancing at Geo from the corner of your eye. "Yeah. That's him."

For a moment, the conversation seemed to stall. Geo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his energy shift slightly, the subtle tension in the air thickening. His eyes remained cool, distant, like always—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker. A brief crack in his calm, and then it was gone, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it. 

Crowe, however, seemed much more openly intrigued. "Didn't know you two hung out like that," he said, still grinning. "Interesting."

You met Geo's eyes again, but this time, he was looking at the table, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. His face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had asked about Brittany—so focused, so sharp—left you with a sense of unease. It was subtle, but there.

You couldn’t help but watch him for a beat longer than necessary, but Geo’s cool demeanor didn’t crack. If he was feeling anything, he wasn’t showing it.

"Yeah," you said again, your voice quieter now as you let the weight of your words sink in. "Sol’s... something."

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Something, huh?" He leaned in a little closer, his playful teasing tone back. "Sounds like you're keeping some secrets from us."

You just shrugged again, keeping the mystery between you all. You didn’t need to explain yourself. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the conversation drifted off, but you could feel Geo’s eyes flicking to you every so often like he was sizing something up. Whether it was the situation, you, or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.

But for now, you weren’t going to push.

After all, this had been going on for months now—stretching into the current year. Geo and Sol—two men who had wormed their way into your thoughts in ways you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t just when you were around them. No, their presence lingered even when they weren’t there, like an unshakable hum in the back of your mind. It circled you constantly, like an orbit you couldn’t escape, especially as you sat in bed late at night, trying to focus on your homework.

Every time you’d start to make progress, one of them would pop into your head, their images uninvited and persistent.

Sometimes, you'd find yourself imagining them both vying for your attention at once—Geo, with his cool, almost aloof demeanor, and Sol, burning with that raw, intense energy he always carried. You’d picture them both charming you at the same time, competing for your affections in some twisted game. You’d have to smack your head with a pillow to shake the thought loose, as if physical force could snap you back into reality.

The silent gentleman, Geo, who made you feel like you were the only person in the room with his quiet attention, and Sol, the intense heartthrob, who always seemed like he was on the verge of devouring everything you were—each one tugged at your heart in a different way. 

Your heart was split between the two of them, and the struggle was maddening.

In class, your mind would wander again, caught between the two. This was supposed to be a fun little game—something lighthearted. You didn’t want to fall for either of them, not really. Yet, despite knowing it wasn’t fair to claim both, your heart couldn't help but yearn for both of them, even if you couldn’t have them. You couldn’t be that person, could you? Still, the idea lingered, like a tempting thought that wouldn’t leave. Ugh. What the hell were you going to do?

It’s not like you could have a threesome with them, right?

…Unless…

Before you could delve deeper into that increasingly absurd—and wildly tempting—thought, a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, you good?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. There was Sol, standing over you, his pen set down on the table in front of you. His hand—big and warm—reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a simple, almost gentle touch. 

It was something so small, so subtle, but it completely threw you off. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to cough to cover the sudden rush of heat flooding your chest.

Shit.

"You sure?" Sol’s voice was low and steady, but there was a note of concern in it that caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on you, studying your face, as if trying to decipher what was going on behind your cool exterior. "That look on your face says otherwise."

You quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off, though you knew it didn’t quite work. “I’m fine, really,” you said, though your voice had a slight edge to it—irritation creeping in. Why was he always so perceptive? It made you uncomfortable.

Sol didn’t buy it. Of course, he didn’t. He stood there, watching you with that intense gaze of his, making you feel like he could see right through you. Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe the situation was more complicated than you'd like to admit, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who could throw you off balance with just a touch.

But no, you wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. You were fine.

You were just… fine. Right?

Fuck no.

Art class ended, and the moment the bell rang, you bolted out of the classroom, making a quick escape. You needed to get away—fast. The building seemed endless, but you were determined to make it out as you pushed the glass door open before you ran into anyone who would slow you down.

But as you rounded the corner, you collided with something—no, someone. Strong arms caught you before you could stumble back. You looked up to find Geo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face, clearly waiting for you.

“Watch where you’re going,” Geo said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it as he held you firmly. “Could’ve fallen.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat from the sudden closeness. “I know,” you muttered, pulling away from his grip. But as you tried to step back, you could feel his gaze on you, like he could read you better than anyone else. 

Oh shit.

“Something wrong?” Geo asked, his tone softer, more probing now. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not with half the school walking by, eyes glued to the scene. You couldn’t bring yourself to make this anything public—not when the whole damn hallway was buzzing with life. You didn’t want to be an exhibit. 

“Nothing,” you snapped, avoiding his gaze as you turned to walk away, trying to make your steps as quick and purposeful as possible.

But of course, Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide. You could feel the weight of his footsteps behind you, steady like he wasn’t planning to let you go that easily.

You kept walking, the distance between you and him narrowing as he caught up with you, his presence heavy in the air.

“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said, his voice low and knowing. 

You almost wanted to tell him to drop it. To stop following you. But you couldn’t find the words. You’d rather deal with this alone in your studio apartment at your dorm building. Maybe just let the work pile up, let the hours drag on. You didn’t want to have this conversation—not now, not in front of everyone.

But as Geo walked behind you, you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you hide from it.

You walked briskly toward your dorm, eager for the quiet refuge of your room. The noise of the campus buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. You needed a moment to think, to breathe, to escape the tension that had been building all day.

Just as you rounded the corner, ready to slip inside the safety of your dorm building, your luck completely betrayed you.

Sol stood in front of the door, arms crossed, his usual playful smirk replaced by something that looked almost like frustration. Behind you, you could feel Geo’s presence, steady and unyielding. He’d caught up to you.

“Can I help you?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice as you stopped short, staring at Sol’s casual stance.

Sol’s eyes flickered to Geo for a moment before focusing back on you. “So, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with amusement, but there was a clear edge to it, like he knew something you weren’t saying.

Geo didn’t speak at first, standing just behind you, as if guarding the space between you and Sol. He wasn’t making any moves to push past, but his presence was unmistakable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You took a deep breath, hoping the annoyance that flared in your chest didn’t spill out as you spoke. “Nothing’s going on,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’m just trying to get to my dorm.”

“Oh, you’re trying to get to your dorm?” Sol repeated, his eyebrows lifting slightly, a mock sweetness to his voice. “How convenient. He’s with you, but I haven’t seen him follow you here before.”

Geo shifted slightly behind you, his gaze on Sol but saying nothing. His silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm, but you didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not here.

“Seriously,” you said, your voice tight, trying to push past the bubbling frustration. “I’m not in the mood for this, okay? I’m not doing whatever game you two are playing. I just want some space.”

Sol stepped forward, blocking your path. “But space from what? From me? Or from Him?” He said, more like in a worried tone.

Your heart skipped, and the tension in your chest built up again. You had no idea what either of them wanted—if they were trying to get under your skin, if they were genuinely concerned, or if they just liked messing with you. 

Either way, you were getting frustrated.

Geo finally spoke, his voice low and even. “There’s right. If they want space, they should get it.”

Sol’s gaze shifted to him, then back to you. His lips pressed together in the way he did when he was trying to hold back. But the tension between them was palpable. You could feel the pull of it, both of them watching you, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew you didn’t want to find out.

“So what’s it going to be?” Sol asked, his tone still light but sharper now, like a blade hidden under velvet.

You were fucked, weren’t you? 

Stuck between two guys who couldn’t seem to let you be, two men who both knew how to get to you in different ways. And for once, you didn’t know how to escape it. You didn’t know how to get them both to leave you alone. 

You had to choose your next words carefully, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what the right choice even was.

The silence hung thick between you, Sol and Geo, both of them locked in a battle of wills without saying much—yet it felt like everything was being said. You could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to suffocate.

Then, with the smallest crack in the quiet, it started.

“You can’t seriously be this fucking oblivious, can you?” Sol’s voice was sharp, a knife-edge cutting through the air. His eyes flared with a familiar anger, but there was something else there now—something possessive.

Geo didn’t back down. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was steady, but there was a hardness to it, something dangerous lurking beneath the calm.

“Oh, you’re really gonna act like you don’t know?” Sol snapped, taking a step forward, his gaze never leaving Geo. “There’s not some fucking toy for you to keep playing with. Can’t you see there’s already fucking exhausted from all of this?”

The words hit like a punch, but they weren’t aimed at you—not directly. Still, you could feel the weight of them, as if they were pulling you in, squeezing tighter and tighter.

You stood there, frozen. 

Your thoughts swirled in your mind—fuck this, you can’t deal with this now. 

You wanted to scream, to tell them to shut up and let you go, but the words never came. Instead, you just stared at the ground, feeling the pressure of the moment pressing down on you.

“Exhausted?” Geo’s laugh was low, almost bitter. “They haven’t said a word to me about being tired of anything.” His eyes flicked to you, but for once, you didn’t meet his gaze. You couldn’t. It would make it worse.

“No one is talking to you…” Sol’s voice was nearly a growl now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him like he was a flame ready to burn everything down. “Is that how this is going to be? ‘Cause you know what? I’m not letting you have her.”

Geo’s response was immediate, and the words were like steel. “Oh, I don’t have to take anything from you. I’m not the one chasing her around pretending to be thier fucking savior.”

You winced at the word savior. It felt like everything was crumbling in on itself. The walls that you had spent so long trying to keep up—between them, between your feelings, between yourself—were crumbling into dust.

And you didn’t stop them. You didn’t say a word. The argument, as much as it was hurting you, felt easier than breaking the silence. It felt better than picking a side, better than making this worse.

Instead, you just stood there, eyes glued to the floor, heart racing as the fight between them escalated. Every word, every accusation, every harsh tone felt like a dagger.

This is your fault, isn’t it? Playing a game between two possessive men... 

Ugh. All you wanted was to be left alone. To breathe. But the more you tried to avoid the chaos, the tighter it clenched around you, suffocating you at every turn.

Sol stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. “There’s not some game. You can’t just show up and expect them to fall in line. You don’t get to have them like that.”

Geo took a step forward, closing the space between them. “And who the hell are you to say how I get to have them? Do you think you can control this? You think you can keep acting like they belong to you?”

You could feel your pulse quicken as the anger between them seemed to rise, boiling over, threatening to explode. You were caught in the middle, a bystander to a fight that you caused.

And still, you did nothing. You didn’t speak, didn’t intervene. You just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to fight back the suffocating wave of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.

“Stop it,” you finally whispered, so quietly that neither of them seemed to hear it at first. But they were both too deep in their argument to notice.

"Stop," you said louder this time, your voice shaking but firm. “Just stop. I don’t want this.”

Geo and Sol froze at the sound of your voice, both of them pausing mid-sentence, and for a moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—they might listen. But then Geo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“Look, I don’t need your help, either of you. I’m just… I just need some fucking space,” you said, your words sharp and exhausted, finally breaking the dam of silence that had been holding you in place. You didn’t want to explain yourself anymore. You just wanted them to understand.

Geo and Sol exchanged a brief, tense glance, but neither of them moved.

Your voice cracked slightly as you took another step back. “Please. Just… give me some time.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, the weight of their eyes on your back like a burning brand. The silence between you all lingered as you left them standing there, words unfinished in the air. 

You didn't know what would come next, but for now, you needed to be alone.

You slammed the door behind you, leaning your forehead against the cool wood for a moment, just to collect yourself. The weight of it all hit you then—every little mistake, every decision that had led to this point. Slowly, you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as if holding yourself together was the only thing left you could do.

You hated this. Hated the mess you’d made. Hated that you thought you could handle it, that you could juggle them both without consequences. The worst part? You didn’t even really know what you were hoping for—what you thought would happen. You had an idea, but now that you were here, it felt like you’d just stepped into your own trap.

You cared for both of them, deeply. And as much as that made your chest ache, you couldn’t forget that they were adults, just like you. They were capable of making their own decisions, and this mess? It was your doing. You let it spiral. 

With a deep sigh, you finally pulled off your shoes and tossed them aside, already thinking about the shower you desperately needed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be chill by the time you were done. 

But, fuck, who were you kidding? This was far from over.

Meanwhile, Geo exhaled sharply through his nose, the tension in his shoulders growing with every missed shot. The arrow barely scraped the target this time, and he clicked his tongue in frustration. It wasn’t like him to miss. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled—but his mind? His mind was an absolute mess.

Because of you.

Five damn calls. Five times he let it ring, only to get nothing in return. He had half a mind to try again, but instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and shot off a final text.

I’ll leave you alone.

And yet, the moment he sent it, he regretted it. He didn't want to leave you alone. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Before he could dwell on it, a voice cut through the air.

“So, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Geo didn’t even flinch. He already knew who it was before he turned his head. Sol was standing in the archery room now, door shut behind him, posture loose but his eyes sharp.

Geo rolled his eyes, lowering his bow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, emo.”

That was the last straw.

In a blink, Sol had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. Geo barely had time to process the shift before Sol’s voice came low and dark.

“Don’t start that ignorant bullshit,” Sol growled, fingers tightening in Geo’s shirt. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me look like an ass.”

Geo let out a breath of laughter, cool and effortless, but there was an edge to it. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” His smirk deepened the glint in his eye anything but apologetic. “You do that enough as it is.”

Sol’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening. His eyes were burning, brimming with something dangerously close to fury.

Geo just sighed.

Sol’s jaw twitched, his fingers still tight in Geo’s collar as he narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was low, simmering with something dangerous. "You’re obsessed. You keep trying to prove you’re better than me—so much so that you’d stoop this low?"  

Geo let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. "Obsessed?" He tilted his head slightly, considering the word. "If I were obsessed, you wouldn't even be able to breathe near them." His voice was smooth, even. "I trust them. I respect them. That’s what this is. You? You just want control."  

Sol's grip wavered for half a second before his teeth clenched. "That’s some bullshit ass-kissing if I’ve ever heard it."  

Geo’s smirk barely faltered. "And yet, you’re the one constantly up their ass for attention." He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping lower, colder. "How about you try treating them like a normal person instead of acting like you own them?"  

Sol's expression darkened, but Geo didn’t move, didn’t even blink. The tension was suffocating, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them like a loaded gun.  

Then, with deliberate slowness, Geo reached up and pried Sol’s fingers off his collar, brushing himself off as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.  

"I’d say grow up," Geo muttered, turning away, "but we both know that’s never happening."

Sol let out a short, humorless laugh. "I have no problem settling this with my fists, you know." His tone was sharp, a direct challenge.  

Geo rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Right, because that’s always worked so well for you." He adjusted the strap on his archery gear, not even looking at Sol as he spoke. "You can threaten me all you want, but we both know neither of us would like where that road leads."  

Sol’s fingers twitched. His patience was razor-thin. "Tch." His brows furrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. "You always got that smug, rich asshole act going, huh?" He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "News flash, dude—just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you're better than me."  

Geo finally turned to face him, completely unfazed. "Never said I was." He packed up the rest of his things, moving with an infuriating amount of calm. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked.  

"And?" His voice was light, almost teasing. "At least I’m not some crazy ‘yandere’ lover."  

That was it. Sol’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. 

Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Neither of them were backing down.  

Not until you choose.  

You stepped outside, and the cold hit you first—a stark contrast to the warmth of your dorm, where you had been holed up for the past week. The wind carried the faint chatter of students, the distant sound of traffic blending with the occasional echo of laughter. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café lingered in the air, but even that didn’t soothe the tension coiling in your chest.  

The campus felt the same, unchanged as if the world had continued spinning without you. And yet, to you, everything felt different. The space between each step felt heavier, your mind was unwilling the overthink thoughts.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, fingers clenching the fabric as you moved toward the main part of campus. It should’ve felt freeing, stepping out again, stretching your legs after days of isolation. But instead, a strange unease settled in your gut, an unshakable tension that refused to leave.  

You sighed, pulling out your phone, and you flicked through your notifications.  

Missed Calls: 15+

Messages Unread: 10+

Both are from Sol and Geo.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You really should call them back.  

But which one?  

If you called Geo first, Sol would find out—one way or another. If you called Sol, Geo would know. Those two could be halfway across the world from each other, and they’d still figure it out.  

Just your luck.  

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you thought about just ignoring them both for another day—but you already knew that wouldn’t last.  

So...

Who first?

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You inhaled deeply, feeling the moment's weight settle over you as you stared at Sol’s contact on your phone screen. The decision to finally call him had been a long time coming, but now that it was here, your stomach churned with the uncertainty of what might follow.

You tapped the screen, watching the call ring, each second stretching longer than the last.

The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.

"You finally decided to call," he said, his voice lower than usual—quieter, almost softer, but there was an edge to it. Not anger. Not relief. But something else that you couldn’t quite place. The words hung in the air, a strange mixture of resignation and something else that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at your insides. You’d kept your distance for so long. Too long. And now, hearing his voice—so calm, but threaded with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension—it felt almost like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. I figured it was about time," you said, your voice steady despite the roiling anxiety beneath the surface.

There was a long pause on the other end, just the faintest sound of him exhaling—a sigh of sorts. You could almost hear the weight of the silence before he spoke again. 

"You okay?"

The simplicity of the question threw you off. You expected sarcasm, irritation—hell, even some passive-aggressive jabs would’ve been easier to handle. But this? It was genuine. A rawness in his tone that cut through everything else. He was asking, not because he wanted something, but because he actually cared. And that scared you.

You swallowed, fighting the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer. "I—yeah. I just needed time," you said, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

"I get that now," he replied after a beat, the faint rasp in his voice betraying something deeper. "But I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t like it."

His honesty hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but somehow, it felt like a relief. Sol wasn’t the type to mince words, and in this moment, you knew exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this conversation, but it was clear that what you’d put off for so long was finally catching up to both of you.

There was another long silence, the kind that settled heavy between you, and you could almost feel him on the other side of the phone, waiting, unsure of what you were going to say next. 

"Can we talk?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could second-guess them. The finality of it surprised you—this was it. The moment you’d both been dancing around for too long.

Sol was quiet for a second, the kind of silence that stretched just a little too long, leaving you hanging on the edge of the conversation, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. You held your breath, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, though still laced with that familiar edge of uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, the words carrying a subtle weight, as though he were wondering if this was something you both could handle.

"I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t," you replied, your voice firmer now. You weren’t going to back down. You needed to talk. You needed answers. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him.

There was a shift in his tone, like a decision had been made. A soft exhale followed by the sound of movement on his end, maybe him shifting in his seat, maybe running a hand through his hair. You could almost picture it—Sol, leaning back, thinking, processing everything that had happened. 

"All right," he said finally. "Art classroom. After classes. The door’s open."

The way he said it made your heart skip. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a call to meet, a place where things could be sorted. He wasn’t forcing it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his words. He wanted to talk, too.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "Okay," you replied, the single word carrying more weight than anything else you could’ve said.

"Good," Sol responded, his tone softer now. "See you then."

The call ended with a click, and for a moment, you just stood there, holding the phone in your hand, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you couldn’t keep running anymore. Whatever was between you and Sol—it was time to face it. 

Whatever happened, you would figure it out.

With a heavy sigh, you set the phone down, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation would bring. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The air outside was crisp, the warmth of the midday sun barely cutting through the lingering chill of early spring. Students filtered across the courtyard in waves, either rushing to their next class or loitering in clusters, laughing and chatting like nothing in the world could touch them.

You wished you could feel that kind of ease right now. Instead, the weight of unfinished business pressed against your chest as you stepped out of the building, prepared to put as much distance between yourself and the past week's tension as possible.

Then you saw him.

Geo.

Leaning against a pillar near the main walkway, his phone in hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at you—not directly—but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his posture shifted, the subtle tilt of his head.

He’d been waiting for you. Your stomach tightened. Great.

Your grip on your bag strap tightened as you debated walking right past him. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe you could avoid whatever this conversation was going to be—at least for a little longer.

But you knew better.

Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide, not when something was clearly bothering him. And sure enough, just as you tried to step around him, his voice cut through the noise of passing students.

"Hey."

You exhaled sharply, stopping in your tracks. “Hey, Geo.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze. Sharp, assessing—searching.

For what? You weren’t sure.

Whatever he saw in your face made something in his expression tighten, but he didn’t press immediately. Instead, he pushed off the pillar with an easy, practiced motion, sliding his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside you.

Like this was normal. It wasn’t.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure what to say, and for once, Geo didn’t immediately break it with some casual comment.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Okay, this is getting awkward as hell."

You turned to see Crowe standing a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow arched in amusement.

Geo scoffed. "No one's talking to you, Jericho.”

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta say it," Crowe shot back, stepping closer. He looked between you and Geo before sighing. "All right, real talk? You two need to clear the air, 'cause this weird-ass tension? It's making everyone uncomfortable."

Your stomach twisted. You knew it. Of course, the group had noticed. Even if you had spent the past week avoiding everyone, the energy between you and Geo—between you, Geo, and Sol—had lingered like a stain.

You exhaled sharply. "Crowe, not now."

"Then when?" Crowe challenged. "You can’t keep dodging this forever. And I know damn well Geo won’t drop it."

You flicked a glance at Geo, and sure enough, he was watching you carefully. He hadn’t denied it.

You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the weight pressing down on you. “I just—” You cut yourself off, sighing again.

Geo spoke then, low and even. "I just want to talk."

It was that simple. Yet, it wasn’t.

Crowe tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "So?"

You hesitated. You had already agreed to see Sol later. Adding Geo into the mix now? It felt like asking for trouble.

But at the same time…

You swallowed. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Geo nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets. Crowe grinned like he had just won something.

"Good. Now, I’m gonna leave before I end up in the middle of some dramatic lovers' quarrel." He spun on his heel and walked off, muttering under his breath about “people and their complicated ass relationships.”

You took a slow breath, turning to Geo. “Where do you wanna do this?”

He gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”

You nodded. And with that, you fell into step beside him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid press down on you. Geo's silence as you walked together was unnerving, but not unusual. You had known him long enough to recognize when he was working something out in his head, dissecting information and piecing together a bigger picture.

And then—

"You're going to see him, aren't you?"

You froze for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him. “How do you—”

Geo smirked, but there was no amusement in his expression. "You just gave yourself away."

Fuck.

You clenched your jaw, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “I have to talk to him,” you admitted, voice measured.

Geo hummed, as if considering something, then tilted his head. "Because you like him?"

That stopped you. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The words were there, pressing against your tongue, but they refused to come out.

Geo exhaled sharply, leaning his head back before looking at you again, his usual cool demeanor cracking just slightly. "You need to stay away from him." His voice was firm, but not commanding—like he was trying to warn you rather than control you. "He’s not what you think he is."

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh, what, you’re jealous?”

Geo didn’t react right away, just watching you with an unreadable expression. You turned to leave, deciding you were done with this conversation, but before you could take more than two steps, his hand caught yours.

Not forcefully. Not to restrain. Just… holding.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His fingers were warm around yours, his grip firm but careful.

"I'm serious." His voice was softer this time, his brows drawing together slightly. "Believe me."

Your breath hitched. Geo wasn’t the type to plead, not like this.

You stared at him, then sighed, pulling your hand away. “Geo.” Your tone was tired. “I’m gonna see him. Whether you like it or not.”

Geo inhaled through his nose, shaking his head as if you were being stubborn. "Use that brain of yours," he muttered, frustrated but still concerned. "You can see it, can't you? Sol isn't a good person."

You met his gaze, searching for something in his eyes—anger, bitterness, jealousy. But all you found was worry.

Still, you shook your head. “I’ll figure things out myself.”

And with that, you walked away, leaving Geo standing there, watching you go.

The sun had long since begun to set by the time you made your way to the art building, the cool evening air wrapping around you in a welcome embrace. The campus felt quieter than usual, the steady hum of student chatter replaced by the low murmur of distant conversations and the occasional rustle of leaves. You walked down the hallway, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors, before coming to the art studio door.

You hesitated just for a second, your hand hovering over the doorknob before you pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was hardly lit, the golden hues of the sunset spilling through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the scattered easels and half-finished projects. The smell of graphite and paint lingered in the air, a familiar comfort. The hum of a quiet heater filled the space, and the soft shuffle of papers as someone moved around was the only sound.

And there he was.

Sol sat on a stool near the center of the room, a sketchpad resting on his knees. His dark hair hung just a little too long over his eyes, his usual brooding expression softened in concentration. He didn’t even notice you at first, completely absorbed in the pencil gliding across the paper. You stood there for a moment, watching him, the way the soft light hit his face, the tension in his posture, the faint frown of concentration as his hand moved with practiced ease.

It was like a moment frozen in time. 

You almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But then, just as you made a move to step forward, Sol looked up. His eyes met yours with that piercing gaze of his, dark and unreadable for a brief second. He blinked, his pencil pausing mid-air, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

He stood up slowly, pushing the stool back with a faint scrape of metal against the floor. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually show up. He stepped toward you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you like a heavy cloud.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sol said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he had been waiting for this moment for a while. He took a few steps closer, his hands shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.

You didn’t answer right away, still trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you had come here for a reason, and you weren’t going to back out now. The air felt heavy, charged, as you looked him over, taking in the dark lines of his hoodie, the way his posture made him seem almost too perfect for this setting.

“Sol…” you started, your voice almost too quiet against the stillness of the room. You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes. “We need to talk.”

His expression shifted, ever so slightly, but you could tell he understood what you meant. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips pressing together tightly, before he nodded once, slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unreadable. “We do.”

He didn’t say anything else, just stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch out between you both. The space between you was intimate in a way that was almost suffocating, but you didn’t back away.

“I guess…” Sol started, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you came. I didn’t have anything better to do.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”

You chuckled softly, the sound almost a little hollow in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The absurdity of it all hit you then—how this had escalated, how you’d been caught between two men who seemed to be competing for your attention in ways you couldn’t quite understand or even fully control.

You couldn’t help but find it almost funny, the way both Geo and Sol had turned their jealousy into some kind of twisted competition, each trying to outdo the other. It had felt like a game at first, but now? Now, it was starting to weigh on you.

"You know," you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally broke the silence, "it’s funny. The way you and Geo both get all... jealous. Like you both think it’s some sort of competition to see who can make me crack first."

Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shift in his expression that you recognized. But you weren’t done yet.

"You both get under each other’s skin so easily, and it's... honestly kind of funny watching you two try to outdo each other," you continued, leaning against the edge of a nearby desk, arms folded. "But it’s exhausting too, don’t you think? Playing these mind games."

Sol stood there, jaw tight, his hands twitching by his sides as if he were trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His silence only fueled your need to vent more.

"Who’s more jealous?" you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you could even stop them. "You? Or Geo?"

Sol’s expression didn’t shift. He was standing there, his eyes scanning you, but you could see the flicker of frustration in them. You could feel the tension rising, but you didn’t want to be here anymore—not like this. The whole situation, the constant pull between them, was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just because they were being possessive. It was because you cared about both of them in ways you didn’t know how to explain.

You paused and shook your head, dropping your arms from your chest. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

Sol’s gaze softened just a fraction as you spoke, and he stepped a little closer to you, though he was still keeping a distance. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice quieter, less biting now.

You sighed, your mind spinning. "I don’t want to be a part of this game anymore. The whole back and forth, the jealousy. I need peace." Your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. "I don’t want to be the prize in some stupid contest."

Sol’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. There was a long, heavy pause as you stared at him, fighting the urge to turn away.

“You’re here to let me down, then?” he asked, his voice rougher now, a hint of something darker in it that sent a chill down your spine. He was looking at you like he didn’t know what to make of you anymore.

"No," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I’m not here to let you down." You took a breath, steadying yourself before continuing. "I just… I like you. I do. I like you more than I care to admit, and that’s the truth."

There. You said it. Out loud, right in front of him. You had to admit it at some point, and there was no better time than now. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, though the air still felt thick with tension. You still cared for Geo, but when it came down to it, you realized it was Sol you were drawn to the most. His intensity, the way he never seemed to need to explain himself, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it had all tangled together in your mind in ways you couldn't ignore anymore.

Sol stared at you for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly, but still guarded. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence between you both felt suffocating. His eyes flickered between your face and your lips as if trying to read you, understand you, but it seemed like you had caught him off guard.

"I..." he started, then paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You don’t know how fucked up this is," he muttered under his breath, his voice low. "I didn’t think you’d actually come here and say that."

You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in, everything hanging between the two of you. But you didn't regret it. Not really.

“I needed to say it,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his with as much certainty as you could muster. "I’m done with the games, Sol."

He took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. He was still watching you, trying to figure out where you stood, and where this would go next.

Then suddenness of Sol’s movement caught you completely off guard. One moment, he was standing in front of you, his expression guarded and intense, and the next, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Before you could react, he spun you around and slammed you against the cold surface of one of the tables in the empty art classroom. The sound of it echoed in the otherwise quiet room, but you couldn’t focus on that. 

All you could focus on was him. 

His body was pressed against yours, pinning you down, and you felt the heat radiating off him. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, his red-orange eyes darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but could feel in your bones—a hunger, a possessiveness. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, and you froze, caught in the intensity of the moment.

"Sol," you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of uncertainty and something else, something you couldn’t quite understand.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down on the table beside you with a strength that left no room for resistance. You could feel the pressure of his grip, the way he was keeping you in place, making sure you didn’t move. His thumb brushed lightly over your pulse, sending a chill through you as his gaze lowered to your lips.

"I’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice rough, as if it were a secret he’d been dying to share. "I should’ve made you mine sooner, pumpkin. Shouldn’t have let you slip away, should’ve known you were mine from the start."

Before you could respond, before you could even process the words, his lips crashed onto yours. It was fierce, desperate, and possessive, his kiss taking control immediately. His mouth was hot, demanding, and he pulled you closer, using his hold on your wrist to keep you trapped beneath him. 

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved against yours, and the more you tried to breathe, the tighter he pulled you. His body felt like a weight on top of you, keeping you locked in place. You tried to pull away, to create some distance, but his grip on your wrist tightened, and he growled low in his throat, making it clear that escape was not an option. 

Sol pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss.

"You belong to me now, pumpkin," he whispered, his voice rough with a possessive edge. His eyes never left yours, a dangerous gleam flashing in them. "I’ll make sure to keep you close. No one will ever get to you again. Not Geo, not anyone. You’re mine."

The way he said it, the way he held you down, his possessive words cutting through the air—it wasn’t just affection. It wasn’t even love. It was something darker, something terrifying, and you realized, with a growing sense of dread, that you were trapped. 

His gaze never wavered as he leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a chill through your spine. 

"You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget that."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His grip on your wrist, the intensity in his eyes, and the force of his kiss had left you breathless. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever. And as much as you wanted to pull away, part of you realized that you didn’t know if you could.

Sol wasn’t the same as before. He wasn’t just a guy you liked. He was someone else now—a person who wanted to keep you locked away, close to him, in a way that was almost suffocating. You wanted to break free, but somehow, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 

Not without his permission.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 

He's longer; sorry, I’m biased.

You stared at your phone for a long moment, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You had spent the last week cooped up in your dorm, tangled in your own thoughts, unable to find peace with yourself or with them.

Sol and Geo... the constant pull between them had turned everything into a confusing mess. 

But now? You needed clarity. You needed someone who wouldn’t add more fuel to the fire, someone who would just listen without trying to one-up the other. Maybe you were kidding yourself—because this was Geo, after all. But you needed this.  

Taking a deep breath, you hovered your fingers over the screen, glancing at the missed calls again. Your pulse was racing, the anxiety of the choice settling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face this alone—but you also didn’t want to avoid it.  

After what felt like an eternity, you made the decision.

You called Geo.  

It rang three times before his voice answered, and you immediately felt the warmth in his tone, like he had been waiting for this call. But there was something else too, something that made you pause—a quiet concern hidden beneath his words.  

“Hey, you okay?”  

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You didn’t know how to explain it, so you didn’t try to. Instead, you just said what you needed to say.  

“I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”  

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking it over. But he didn’t push for more information. He simply agreed, his voice calm and understanding.  

“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”  

You bit your lip, a brief moment of indecision hitting you. But then it came to you. "Where you at?"  

He paused for a beat before replying, “About to start classes, but later I have archery practice.”  

“Bet,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m coming when you have practice.”  

Before he could say anything else, you hung up. The decision felt sudden like you were just throwing yourself into the unknown, but there was a strange sense of relief mixed with it.  

Damn, that really overwhelmed you.  

You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. The tension that had built up over the past few days began to loosen slightly—though you weren’t fooling yourself. There was still so much left unsaid.

The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and assignments. Your mind kept wandering to your phone, to the call you had just made to Geo. Every time you tried to focus, the weight of everything from the past few weeks came crashing down on you again, clouding your thoughts. You hated the feeling of being so torn, but there was little you could do to change it now.  

After your last class, you quickly went to the campus snack shop. You grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars, trying to grab a bit of comfort before meeting up with Sol and Hyugo for lunch. The campus was busy with students, the energy of their conversations filling the air, but you felt strangely detached from it all.  

You reached the stairs leading to the roof, where you were supposed to meet them. The familiar sight of the door at the top of the stairs felt almost comforting, like a safe haven. But when you pushed the door open and stepped onto the roof, you only saw Sol.  

You paused, momentarily confused. 

The quiet hum of the city outside the campus walls mixed with the soft sound of wind brushing against the roof, creating a peaceful atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.

But Sol?

He was there, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His usual sharp, confident demeanor softened in the warm sunlight, and there was a rare stillness about him, something you didn’t often get to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly shook it off, determined not to let yourself be distracted. You needed to focus, to stay grounded, even though everything felt like it was slipping away.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the quiet air.

Sol turned to face you, his eyes scanning you for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. You noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes, signs of something deeper—a weariness that didn't quite match his usual carefree attitude. He straightened up slowly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, but something about it felt off.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the snacks you’d bought and handing him a bag of chips before grabbing one for yourself. “I bought lunch. Where’s Hyugo?” you asked, looking around, expecting to see him somewhere nearby.

Sol’s smirk faltered, and he shifted his weight slightly, eyes briefly flicking away as if he were debating whether to say something. “He’s upset at me,” Sol said, his tone flat, almost defensive.

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “What? Why?”

Sol didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, his eyes studying you for a moment as if he was weighing how much he wanted to reveal. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice now, something that made it clear there was more to the story.

You stared at him, wondering if you should press further, but before you could, Sol asked, “Are you meeting up with Geo today?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. 

The look in his eyes was tried, searching. It was as if he already knew the answer, but he was waiting for you to say it. You felt a wave of unease wash over you. Should you lie? Should you be truthful? You knew that whatever you said, Sol would read through it, and yet, you didn’t want to push him further.

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Finally, you gave a small, uncertain nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” you said, almost as though you were answering a question you hadn't been ready to face.

The silence hung heavy between you and Sol, the wind carrying a cool edge that seemed to make everything feel even colder. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as you shifted uneasily beside him, and when he spoke again, his voice was more urgent than before, more desperate.

“Don’t meet with him,” Sol said, his tone low but intense, like a warning. He was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the railing a little too tightly. 

“He is from that rich society that happened to be kicked out of, and you know what that means. You don’t belong in that world. It’s all fake, all about status and image. Why do you want to be with someone like that? Someone who looks at everything like it’s just a game for him?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words tumbling out in a stream of disapproval, each one landing with a weight that made you feel suffocated.

You could feel his words digging into you, his frustration and anger clear, as though he had been holding this in for too long. The more he spoke, the more you could hear the layers of jealousy and resentment hidden beneath the surface.

“Why are you even considering him?” Sol went on, his eyes now locked on you, sharp and accusing. “You think he’s different, but trust me, he’s not. He’s nothing but a walking reflection of everything that’s wrong with that world. You’re just another thing to him, a new toy to play with before he gets bored. And you—” Sol paused, his voice dipping, almost as if he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, “You’re smarter than that. You deserve better than to be some rich boy’s little distraction.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. You had been hearing this for days, and it was starting to feel like a broken record. His words kept echoing in your head, over and over, but with each passing second, it became harder to listen. 

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you good?” You finally blurted out, your voice sharp with irritation, cutting through his tirade. “Are you seriously obsessed with me or something?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, the question hanging in the air between you two like a live wire.

Sol’s expression faltered for just a moment, his eyes flashing with something unreadable, something that was maybe a little too close to the truth. But then, without warning, his face hardened again, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sol muttered, more to himself than to you, turning his attention back to the skyline. His posture became stiff again, his shoulders drawn tight like he was bracing for something.

“You’re better off without him. Trust me on this.”

You felt your chest tighten as his words hung in the air, the tension between you thickening. A part of you was almost shocked that he’d go this far, but at the same time, you could sense that this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed a line like this.

His possessiveness, his obsession, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. 

You could feel it now, the weight of it pressing down on you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're worthless," you spat out, the words sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence. "I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours." Your voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelming weight of your emotions.

For a moment, Sol didn’t react. He just stood there, his back turned to you, staring off into the distance, the wind tousling his hair. But you could feel the shift in the air, the subtle way the space between you seemed to shrink like he was about to snap.

And then he turned to face you, his eyes darker than before, something almost predatory in his gaze. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently, but firmly, take hold of your wrist. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice low and almost dangerous, the words leaving a chill in the air. 

“You’re mine, Pumpkin. You just don’t know it yet.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a split second, you almost felt like you were suffocating, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the suffocating grip he had on your wrist. A part of you wanted to pull away, to fight, but another part of you—perhaps the one that was tired, exhausted from all the confusion and the constant pull between him and Geo—just wanted to be left alone.

But Sol wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“I told you not to see him.” His voice was soft, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you? You feel it, too. You can’t deny it, not with how you look at me.”

The words burned through you, and despite everything, you felt a sick sense of dread settle in your stomach. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling, trying to pull away from him. “You’re insane. You don’t own me. I’m not your fucking possession.”

Sol didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to make you wince, but there was something else in his eyes now—something dark, something that made your pulse race in a way you didn’t want it to. 

“You think I’m crazy?” he asked, his lips curling into a twisted smirk. “You have no idea, do you? I’d burn the world down just to keep you. And you want to play these games with him?” He stepped back for a moment as if letting the words sink in. 

“I thought I was so lucky you gave me a chance.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging between you, before he suddenly broke the fourth wall, his voice shifting slightly as if addressing something outside the moment, outside of reality itself.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” Sol’s voice was sharper now, more knowing, as if speaking directly to the reader, to the reality that existed beyond the world you were in. “Do you think you can make decisions like this without consequences? Without me getting involved?” His eyes gleamed with something unsettling. 

“You can’t run from me, not anymore.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst from the pressure building inside. The world around you seemed to warp and distort, the edges of reality blurring. 

You were lost—completely and utterly lost. 

You’d thought you understood what was happening, but now, with Sol so close, his words so charged with something dark and desperate, it was all unraveling in a way you couldn’t make sense of.

The way he looked at you, the way he gripped your wrist like it was his lifeline, it was suffocating. His gaze held something twisted, an obsession that felt too intense, too real. You’d always known there was something about Sol—something dangerous, something that made your stomach tighten with unease. But now it was clear. This wasn’t just a simple crush or playful teasing. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to be close.

No. Sol was obsessed.

And it scared you.

You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip was unyielding. The words on your lips were desperate, but they felt so small against the weight of his presence. “This isn’t right,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Sol didn’t respond immediately. He only stared at you, his eyes darkening, as if weighing your every word, your every movement. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “I need you. You can run from me, but I’ll always find you. I’ll always make you see.”

The words Sol had thrown at you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe. You felt paralyzed, trapped by the weight of his obsession and the raw, unhinged look in his eyes. 

Was this really happening? 

Was this the mess you’d walked into, too blind to see the signs before?

Your thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing together like a storm you couldn’t outrun. But before you could sort anything out, the air shifted. The tension in the room grew thicker, a new presence making itself known.

Geo.

He appeared in the doorway, his posture rigid, like he was ready to explode at any second. But it was his eyes that caught your attention, locking onto Sol with a cold, seething intensity that matched the storm brewing between them.

“You’re really fucking crazy, huh?” Geo’s voice was sharp, his words cutting through the charged silence. His gaze never left Sol, as if daring him to say something back.

You tried to back away, finally pulling your wrist free from Sol’s grasp, but your legs were weak, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. You couldn’t think straight. You needed space; you needed air. But there was no time to escape. Because Sol’s gaze never wavered, and Geo’s words had already ignited something in him.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” Sol growled, his voice low and dangerous. There was a flash of something—rage, maybe—crossing his features, and you knew in that instant that things were about to escalate. 

“You don’t get to come in here and play the hero.”

Geo didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more determined. “You’ve already crossed every line, Sol. Back off.”His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging underneath. “I won’t let you fuck with them any longer. Not like this.”

And just like that, it was like the dam had broken.

Sol lunged first, moving quickly, too quickly for you to process. He slammed into Geo with all his weight, pushing him against the nearby wall, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of their bodies colliding. Geo’s arm shot out, blocking the punch that Sol aimed for his face, and for a moment, they were locked in a brutal, silent struggle.

“Get the fuck off me,” Geo spat, trying to shove Sol away, but Sol was relentless, throwing punches with a viciousness that you didn’t know he had in him. The room felt like it was closing in around you, the sounds of their fight echoing in your ears as you stumbled backward, not sure whether to intervene or to run.

But you couldn’t move. Not now.

Sol was stronger than Geo in this moment, using the element of surprise and his sheer intensity to overpower him. Geo grunted as Sol’s fist connected with his ribs, but Geo wasn’t backing down either. He fought back with the same brutal force, each strike punctuated by curses and gritted teeth.

“You think you can just take them from me?” Sol snarled, his words slurring with anger. “I told you, they’re mine. I don’t care what you think, you don’t deserve them.”

“You don’t own them, Emo!” Geo shouted, his voice breaking with frustration. “Stop acting like you have some fucking right to control them. They’re their own person. You’re the one who needs to back the hell off.”

Geo’s fists collided with Sol with a brutal force that made your stomach churn. You watched in stunned silence as Geo moved with precision and anger, his strikes landing one after another. 

Sol, once so confident, was now crumpled on the floor, his face swollen and bruising almost immediately. A deep purple and blue marred his features, his lip split and his cheek reddened from the force of the blows. He tried to get up, and retaliate, but Geo’s rage was unstoppable. Sol was no match for him now, not when the fury in Geo’s eyes burned like a wildfire.

Geo didn’t even give him a moment to breathe. With each punch, the sound of their struggle echoed throughout the room. And when it was finally over, when Sol lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to move, Geo stood over him, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. His fists were bloodied, but his gaze never wavered from Sol, whose body remained limp on the floor, groaning in pain.

Geo didn’t seem to care.

After a long, tense pause, Geo finally backed away, his hands shaking but his expression cold and controlled. He didn’t say a word, just took one last look at Sol—who was too beaten to even raise his head—and turned toward the door. He walked out with a calmness that betrayed the chaos that had just unfolded. 

The fight had been fast, efficient, and brutal, and now it was over.

You stood there, frozen, trying to process the madness of the situation. The intensity of everything—Geo’s rage, Sol’s obsession, the violence—made your head spin. None of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t the outcome you imagined when you first started this twisted game. 

You just wanted to see how far it would go, how much each of them would fight for your attention, for your love, for whatever the hell it was they were after. 

You had no idea it would spiral into this.

Now, you were sitting in a private room at the police station, the air thick with tension. The officers sat across from you and Geo, their eyes focused on the both of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a jumbled mess. 

You didn’t know how to explain what had happened, how it all went wrong. It was too much. 

Too fast. 

You didn’t have the words.

The room was silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights above, the officers waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation. But you couldn’t give them that. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. 

The fact that it all started with some stupid game—a game to see which of the two would get jealous first—felt utterly ridiculous now. It was supposed to be harmless. You didn’t think it would turn into something this twisted.

But here you were, sitting next to Geo, whose face was unreadable. His expression was as cold and detached as ever, but you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, too. His knuckles were bruised, his chest rising and fell with each deep breath. He didn’t regret what he’d done, and part of you couldn’t blame him. 

Sol had crossed too many lines. 

But it didn’t make it any easier to process.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding the officers' eyes, your mind spiraling out of control. You wanted to say something, wanted to explain it all, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Everything felt so... out of place. 

The fight between Geo and Sol had been violent and unnecessary, yet somehow, it felt inevitable. 

This was what it had come to. 

You had pushed it, tested the boundaries, and now the damage was done.

The officers exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin. They had to know something, but you didn’t have the answers they were looking for. How could you? You didn’t know why things had gotten so out of hand. You didn’t know why Geo had beaten Sol like that, or why Sol had become so obsessed with you in the first place.

“Please,” one of the officers finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Can you tell us what happened here? What led up to this?”

You hated how weak you felt, how lost. You couldn’t explain it. You couldn’t even explain to yourself how you had allowed this to happen. You had set everything in motion, but now it was spiraling beyond your control. The moment you’d let your curiosity get the better of you—this was the result.

You just shook your head, the overwhelming sense of regret and guilt crushing you. You didn’t have the answers. 

And even if you did, they wouldn’t make this any easier to process.

Geo’s eyes remained fixed on you, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn't quite place. It wasn’t pity—at least, not the kind of pity that made you feel small—but it was something else. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. 

He was just... there.

When the officers started to ask more questions, Geo spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm as he interjected. "It's probably best if I take them back to their place. They need some space to clear their head. Once they’re ready, they’ll call you." His tone didn’t leave room for debate, his usual sharpness replaced by something quieter, more protective. 

"They don’t need to talk right now."

The officers exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. They nodded, acknowledging Geo’s request, and you could hear the soft scrape of the chair as one of them stood up. As you left the station, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on you like a flood. It was all too much.

You didn’t speak on the way back to your dorm. The car ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine, and every minute felt like it stretched on forever. You didn’t know what to say to Geo, didn’t know what to say to yourself.

You were lost—dazed, even. What had you done? What had they done? 

Everything had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even find the starting point anymore.

When the car finally pulled up to your building, you didn’t even wait for Geo to open the door. You got out quickly, the silence between you both louder than anything. You didn’t even feel like you had the energy to say goodbye. You just wanted to retreat, to disappear.

You made your way up to your studio apartment, the familiar surroundings almost too much. The kitchen passed in a blur as you shuffled into your small, cramped living space. You threw your bag on the floor with a dull thud before collapsing face-first onto your bed. You didn’t even bother pulling the covers over you. You just lay there, unmoving.

eo stood in the doorway, watching you. The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn’t approach. He knew better than that. There was something almost resigned in the way he stood, his hands in his pockets as he regarded you.

"I ordered food for you," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had settled between you. "You don’t have to leave. If you’re scared, you don’t need to go anywhere."

You didn’t respond. 

The weight of everything felt like it was suffocating you, and you didn’t have the words to explain it—not to him, not to anyone. You felt stuck like the ground beneath you had turned to quicksand. The guilt gnawed at you, but the numbness in your chest was worse. You wanted to feel something—anything—but all you could muster was a hollow emptiness that made your heartache.

You heard Geo’s quiet footsteps echo in the room as he carefully took off his shoes and placed them by the door. It was such a small thing, but the gesture felt oddly intimate like he was respecting some unspoken boundary. 

He stood there for a moment, looking at you, before he made his way over to the edge of your bed. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort, as he knelt in front of you, his back straight and his posture solid.

You clutched the pillow tighter, a weak shield against the confusion that was swirling inside your head. You didn’t know what you needed right now. You didn’t know if you wanted him to say something, or if you just needed the silence. You wanted so badly to scream at the chaos in your life, but the exhaustion had drained all the energy from your body.

Geo glanced down at your bed, then back at you, a slight frown pulling at his features. “I don’t want to sit on your bed,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I’ve been outside. You shouldn’t be either.”

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit you.

The idea of Geo being so considerate after everything that had happened between you two made something inside you crack. You let out a small laugh, a soft chuckle that bubbled up from nowhere as the tension in your chest finally found a way to escape. 

Geo froze, his brow furrowing in surprise as he processed the sound. “What...?” His voice trailed off, confused. He hadn’t expected it, clearly.

You shook your head, trying to stifle another laugh. “It’s just... you’re so serious sometimes,” you muttered, shaking your head again, trying to collect yourself. “Like, we’re in the middle of all this... shit, and you’re worried about sitting on my bed? It’s just funny.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, the question heavy with something more than just casual curiosity. He wasn’t asking to pry—he was asking. After all, he cared because he wanted to know if you were all right, even though everything around you was in pieces.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you tried to push past the numbness, to find the words that would make sense of the chaos inside you. It wasn’t easy. You felt like you were wading through a thick fog, unable to see the shore, unable to find your way out.

You didn’t know what to say. 

You didn’t even know what you wanted anymore.

“I don’t know anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as the weight of everything hit you all at once. 

Geo sighed, and he stayed where he was, kneeling in front of you. He just watched you, waiting for you to find the words, letting you process everything at your own pace. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, but somehow it was comforting. 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the bed, clutching the pillow in your arms like it could somehow anchor you to the present. You felt the weight of the words building up inside you, a flood of confession that had been lying dormant, ready to pour out, and it was as if you couldn't hold it back anymore.

“I don’t know when it all got so messy," you began, your voice unsteady, the words tumbling out in a rush like you were trying to explain something to yourself as much as to him. “It all started because… I wanted to see who was more jealous, you or Sol. It was stupid, I know. I thought I could handle it, keep it all under control. I thought I could play this game and walk away without getting caught up in it.”

You paused for a second, feeling your pulse quicken as you tried to make sense of everything, but the more you spoke, the harder it became to breathe. The confession felt like it was suffocating you, but you couldn’t stop.

“You know how it is. Just a stupid game. I thought I could just sit back, watch the both of you get all worked up, and have a laugh. But it... It didn’t go the way I expected. I didn’t expect to care. Not about him—not about Sol, I mean. And sure as hell not about you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you glanced at Geo, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say. But the confusion, the mess in your head, only seemed to spill out more the longer you spoke.

"I was trying to keep control. You know, like always. But the more I played this game—god, the more it twisted everything around. I started getting feelings. First, it was just... Sol, and I thought I could push it aside. But then... it was you."

You stopped, your voice faltering. “I didn’t think I could get feelings for you, not after everything. You’ve got your own shit going on, and so do I, but here I am. And I’m not sure who’s worse. Me, for getting this deep, or you for dealing with me through all of it.”

Geo didn’t interrupt, though you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a moment before he relaxed them. His eyes were on you, unwavering, and it only made the confession feel like it was digging a hole deeper inside your chest.

"You can judge me for it. I don’t blame you if you do." The words came out bitter, almost accusing, like you were daring him to reject you, to call you out for being weak. "I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Geo. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel. This whole thing was supposed to be a game, a stupid little test to see who cared more, but here I am—lost. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed down the question clawing its way up. But eventually, the words spilled out before you could stop them.  

“Do you… do you hate me?”  

For a moment, there was only silence. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.  

You didn’t look at him—couldn’t. You were too afraid of what you’d see in his face. Fear? Disgust? Or something worse?  

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flickered away, shifting toward the floor, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice. He wasn’t one to hesitate, wasn’t one to falter, and yet, here he was—pausing.  

The silence stretched, each second pulling at your nerves like frayed threads.  

Then, finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, before looking back at you. His expression wasn’t cold, but there was something guarded about it, something that made your chest ache.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “If you’re asking whether I’m pissed? Yeah. If you’re asking if I regret meeting you? No.”  

Your breath caught, hands gripping the fabric of your blanket a little tighter.  

“But hating you?” He shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I couldn’t even if I tried.”  

Something in you wavered.  

He shifted beside you again, the weight of his presence steady, grounding. And despite everything—the chaos, the mistakes, the games you played—you found yourself leaning just a little closer.  

Your lips parted, the question forming before you could stop it. “Then...”  

He hummed, his gaze steady on you.  

“Do you… like me?” The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, before you could convince yourself to let it go. You already felt exposed enough, but if you were drowning, you weren’t going to do it alone.  

Geo didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. That careful mask of his wavered just for a fraction of a second. Then, like clockwork, he slightly smirked—shocking…

“I like a lot of things,” he said smoothly, stretching his arms above his head, his voice full of deflection. “My time. Plants...”  

You narrowed your eyes, not amused. “Geo.”  

He sighed through his nose, gaze flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto you. “And maybe you talk too much.”  

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “That’s not an answer.”  

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”  

You stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He was doing this on purpose, keeping things just vague enough to avoid saying anything real. You wanted to pry it out of him, force him to admit it, but at the same time…  

Geo wasn’t the kind of person you could force anything out of. He’d say what he wanted when he wanted. That was just who he was.  

You let out a sigh, something between acceptance and resignation. “Fine. Be stubborn.” You turned your body slightly, facing him fully. “But I don’t need to hear it. I already know.”  

Then, before he could react, you jumped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close in a tight embrace. Geo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, holding you steady, his warmth grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected.  

Then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.  

It was quick at first, just a light brush of your lips against his, testing the waters. But the second you felt him respond, his lips pressing against yours just as gently, something inside you caved.  

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, neither of you rushing, just feeling. His hands stayed light on your waist, not pulling, not taking—just holding. Like he was afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking you.  

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Geo’s breath hitched slightly before he tilted his head, his lips moving against yours with more certainty now, but never rough, never greedy.  

It was nothing like the game you had been playing before—nothing like what had happened with Sol. This wasn’t about control, about jealousy, about winning. 

It was just real.  

You pulled away first, your forehead resting against his, your breathing slightly uneven. Geo’s hands were still resting on your waist, his thumbs absently brushing against the fabric of your shirt.  

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the room feeling quieter than it had before.  

Then, suddenly, Geo pulled back, reaching into his pocket and checking his phone. He sighed dramatically. “Well, that was good timing.”  

You blinked, still dazed. “What?”  

He held up his phone, showing you the screen. “Food’s here.”  

You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”  

“Dead serious.” He stood up, stretching before glancing down at you. “Unless you wanna keep making out and let the delivery guy starve outside.”  

You rolled your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips despite everything. “Go get the damn food, Geo.”  

He gave you one last look—something soft, unreadable—before turning toward the door. And even as he left, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.  

For once, you weren’t overthinking; he's yours.

[leyavo]

The TF141 guys when you mention you’re trying to romanticise your life:

John’s the only one that questions it, knows he’s not in the loop with trends/slang etc. “What do you mean darling?” And he starts romanticising his own morning routine. A nice black coffee, your drink of choice too waiting for you. some music playing as he gets dressed for the day.

Planning shared time with you later, having a bath together and little candles flickering on the side. He also values his alone time and has a bubble bath, cigar and a glass of whisky. Getting himself some fancy pens, the ink smooth so it makes writing up all those reports so much easier and more fluid. He takes time to check in on your day too, a text here and there when he’s not busy or weighed down with work.

Simon’s panicking, thinking he’s been neglecting you. He’s getting you seasonal flowers, bright tulips or daffodils in spring etc. buying you your favourite chocolate. He’s doing little things like ironing your shirt for work or packing your lunch when he gets time. It’s not till you confront him about doing all these little things do you realise he took it to heart.

“Si, I meant romanticising my day, the mundane things I can do to make me feel a bit better.” After convincing him he does enough and he’s romantic in his way he begins to think. Simon then starts small by adding a hazelnut syrup to his black coffee in the morning. Washing his mask more often too, a ritual after each op where he hand washes all the sweat and dirt as if cleansing himself of the sins.

Johnny’s thinks romanticising his day is day dreaming about you and how you smell so good. How he’d like to have his way with you before you go to work. But in all seriousness, Johnny journals (like in the game). He’s got one for work and one for his home life, some pages are scribbled mess of writing and sketches, of you, of little things that catch his eye (also you).

He’s got a box full of journals under the bed, sometimes he likes to read them, connect with who he was years ago and appreciate who he’s become. Loves reading back on your first dates and what he thought you (man’s a dog). Adds some more notes in the margain “we married them.” “You did get laid this night.” Maybe he’ll even show you some of them one day.

Kyle’s knows exactly what you mean, you’re always trying to add more intention to your day and being present. Kyle understands and uses the present as an anchor to stop him spiralling with his job. He calls them glimmers, how when the sunlight steals his attention and reminds him to breathe and stop overthinking.

He makes time for himself to stretch as soon as he gets out of bed, create small moments in between his fast paced job. Loves reading fantasy books, dragons preferably and designates his time before bed to read at least one chapter (you’re normally reading beside him too). Even part of an online fanclub for said book where he talks about theories for the next book in the series. Total nerd for it there like eight books already.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I really love your writing so much, could I request something with Spencer (maybe with intern reader) where he is helping her/teaching her something related to the BAU? Like close proximity and they’re all sweet and and awk maybe he’s even trying to be a lil flirty

Thank you!!!

Thanks angel!!

cw: HR violations? But like they're welcomed and really not inappropriate outside a professional context so

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 658 words

Spencer does this thing with his eyes. Usually they’re moving constantly, taking in every detail of your surroundings and analyzing body language and microexpressions while you’re talking to him, but occasionally they’ll lock on you with such focus it's disorienting. His eyes are a soft, warm brown. You don’t know how to handle Spencer Reid’s full attention. 

He’s saying something to you in that quiet voice he gets when you’re alone. Something you should definitely be paying attention to, something about your witness testimony next week. You can’t stop looking at him. 

“...good instincts, you can use them. Hotch wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t think you were ready.” 

“But I,” you swallow, trying to focus, “I shouldn’t go off book, right? I should just review the profile?” 

Spencer’s lips twitch. You get the sense this is something he’s been over already. “You should use the profile,” he says, “but sometimes the defense’s questions go beyond what we talked about. You can draw conclusions based on the profile. We trust you.” 

“Big mistake,” you mumble, half humorously. 

Spencer smiles. You really could sink into his eyes, you think. It would be easy. 

“You’ve trained with us for a long time,” he reassures you. “You study hard. You can do this.”

You rub your lips together anxiously. Emboldened by his faith in you, terrified to lose it. Spencer doesn’t move his gaze. 

You clear your throat, swiveling around in your desk chair. “Could I go over my notes from the case with you? I’m worried I’ll miss something.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You hear his chair roll closer. 

You skim through your files, pretending not to feel the warmth of his body heat against your neck and back. Spencer would never intentionally push the boundaries of professionalism, but you think sometimes your closeness makes him forget them. Your team is a family. Spencer doesn’t really treat you very differently than he would Emily or JJ, can’t know that his hand on your elbow or his knee bumping yours means so much more to you than you imagine it does to them. He rolls his chair as close to yours as it can get to see your screen better, mindless to the way his chin brushes your shoulder as he leans in. 

He hums, the buzz of it so close you shiver. 

“It’s not very organized, sorry…” 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, eyes on the screen. “They’re your notes. You should keep them however works for your brain.” 

He sets a hand on the back of your chair to reach for your mouse, scrolling. You catch yourself holding your breath. 

You force a slow, steady inhale. You can smell him. Laundry detergent and something vaguely coconutty. You wonder if it’s his soap or his shampoo. 

“You don’t have very much on the weapon choice,” says Spencer. “I know it seems obvious to us, but a jury won’t know about what that reveals. You sort of have to spell it out for them.” 

“Oh, thanks.” You reach the keyboard, tingles skittering up your arm where your elbow brushes his. You type in some additional notes. 

Spencer’s looking at you again. “You okay?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know it feels like a lot of pressure.” His voice is gentle, considerate. “But you don’t have to be nervous.” 

You finish typing and turn to face him. You watch his eyes widen momentarily as he realizes how close you are, too. Brown eyes, deep brown, deeper pupils pushing outward. He doesn’t move. 

“I think I’ll probably always be nervous,” you admit. 

Spencer smiles softly. “Maybe. You’ll always be capable, too.” 

You mirror him, your lips curving. “Thanks for thinking I’m good at my job.” 

“You are good at your job.”

“Well, thanks for helping me to be.” 

Spencer’s still smiling when he lowers his chin an inch, letting it rest on your shoulder. You hold your breath. That, you think, has to be intentional. 

“Anytime,” he promises.

[vivitalks]

i need to talk about the bad kids and the weight they carry from their parents. because all of them have baggage, whether they know it or not, and it's high time we had a conversation about it.

we all know kristen and adaine's parents fucked them up, but the truth, and maybe this is an immutable truth about the world and all worlds in general, is that every kid bears the weight of their parents' expectations on their shoulders. sometimes the burden is well-disguised; sometimes the pressure is mitigated by a loving relationship — but there's always baggage, and the bad kids are all so used to dragging it along that they don't even realize they're carrying it.

fabian's is easy to recognize. not a day goes by that fabian doesn't think of his father. of what his dad, his treasured papa, not only wanted but expected of him. fabian grew up under the pressure to write your name on the face of the world, to become not just good but Great, to be more than a man — to become a legend, maximum legend, to get it tattooed onto your neck so you never forget your goal, because this is the only way to make your father proud and maybe if you're just like him then your mother will decide to be your mother again. she promised to be better and then she abandoned you. she failed you completely in every way imaginable and her solution was to try again. maybe this child will grow up with a loving mother. maybe she'll get it right this time. but not fabian. fabian doesn't get love, he gets pride, and there's only one way to ensure that his parents are proud.

fig is staggering under the immutable knowledge that she was the catalyst to her parents' divorce. that all of this could have been avoided if she had just never been born. she has so much anger, and it started out directed towards sandra lynn, but now she knows it's anger towards herself, for daring to exist, for ruining a marriage and a life by the crime of being born. poor gilear, saddled with the knowledge that his only daughter isn't even his. and yeah, her mom is a fuckup, but at least that's because of choices she made. fig would have to be in control of her actions to be a fuckup - instead she keeps BEING controlled, from the Dominate Person that led her to nearly sacrifice riz down to the very simple act of being the unplanned child of an affair. she's worse than a fuckup: she's a curse. a plague. and all three of her parents would have been better off if she'd never existed.

wilma and digby thistlespring tried so hard to raise a happy kid. they didn't believe in the stereotypes about half-orcs. not our kid, they said. how could a child of ours be angry? but gorgug is so angry sometimes, and he barely has the language to explain that, much less the skills to manage those emotions. he was so loved, so doted upon, and he tried his best to be the gentle giant, but somewhere along the way he failed, and his parents had no plan for a system malfunction. why would they? wilma and digby never met a bad feeling they couldn't sing their way out of. gorgug could be like that, too, if he tried. if he put his mind to it. it's his fault that he can't keep his rage under wraps. and his parents love him, but they don't understand him, and that hurts them. gorgug is hurting them. the very nature of his being hurts them. he tries to mold himself into the shape of a perfect son, but like everything else in his life, it doesn't fit - he can't give them what they want; he can't become what they devoted all this time to nurturing. he is big and brash and bubbling over with rage sometimes, despite all of his parents' best efforts to teach him temperance and good-naturedness and how to be small, smaller than your body can be, how to tuck in your limbs and take shallow breaths so your bed doesn't break again (again, again, again) and he tries and he tries. it's never enough. he will never be the perfect son, so maybe there's no point in trying at all.

and riz. sklonda. look, how could he not be just like his dad? dad was a badass secret agent, the kind of person riz could only dream of being. he doesn't want to scare mom, but why shouldn't he want to be like dad? except sklonda is scared. she raised him, terrified of what would happen when he learned the truth. his rock, his confidant, his second-best friend (let's be honest, maybe first) — he can't worry her. she has enough on her plate; he can't be a problem for mom. so riz gets really good at taking care of himself. when she can't make it home for dinner, riz knows how many minutes the freezer dinner needs in the microwave. when she can't pick him up from school, riz knows where the nearest bus stop is. and he can't stop solving mysteries, but he can reassure her that he's safe, whether or not it's true — because she needs him to be safe, and riz can't be a problem. he has to be fine. he makes a living being fine. sure, he's in jail for months for a crime he didn't commit, but he's fine. he got kidnapped and almost ritually sacrificed, but he's fine now, mom. i saw dad and he was tortured within an inch of his celestial life and i was almost killed in Hell, but it's fine, mom, because dad is an angel, how cool is that? the important thing is that sklonda can always count on her boy. she can trust him to understand adult things, like the fact that they're poor, and that her demotion might spell bad things for riz's future, and his only shot now is to have a really beefed up transcript so he can maybe get good scholarships, and yeah, that's a lot — god, that's a lot, on top of the harrowing mystery unfolding this year — but. riz is fine.

there's a freedom in hating your parents, in knowing unequivocally that they were bad at being parents, perhaps bad at being people at all. everyone agrees that the abernants were vile, disgusting examples of people at all, much less parental figures. nobody is leaping to the applebees' defense. they failed their children, and their children owe them nothing.

but fabian, fig, gorgug, riz — it's harder when you love the people who raised you. it gets to feeling like the problem is you. like if you were different, if you were better, if you tried a little harder or did something a little differently, then things would be perfect, and that weight you stagger under would go away. if fabian weren't so sentimental. if fig weren't a tiefling. if gorgug weren't so angry. if riz weren't so reckless. you love your parents, and you owe them everything, and this is the least you could do. so why aren't you doing it? why can't you? why are you carrying this weight in the first place?

these four have parents who love them. but that doesn't mean their parents can't also have hurt them. it's inevitable; you grow past the expectations of your parents, and then into something new, something entirely your own, but the bad kids are still growing. they are loved. but they are burdened. both things can be true.

[asterafroditis]

hai !! :3 I saw the sua/robin reader and I loved it so much! and it made me wonder if u could make (platonic) housewardens x sua!reader? (preferably fem!reader but idm gn!) the fact that reader misses mizi and wonders what happend to her and ultimately has trauma from alien stage :3

I love all of ur fanfics a lot!! don’t forget to drink nor eat ^-^

𐔌 . ⋮ lingering songs .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Platonic Housewardens x Sua fem! reader

𓏵 1245 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used but there are fem! reader descriptors, light angst

Aqqq took me a while to finally get this out of my drafts bc smth abt it just bugged me but I do hope you enjoy my train wreck writing TT feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first glance, Riddle sees you as a poised and refined young lady—an image of grace under pressure. He respects that. But as time passes, he realizes it’s not natural elegance; it’s control. The way you hold yourself, the way you speak—it’s deliberate, as if you’re performing for someone who isn’t there.

You remind him of a caged bird. Beautiful, but trapped in something invisible. It unsettles him.

When you mention Mizi’s name—softly, wistfully—he recognizes the way your voice catches on it. He’s studied grief in textbooks, read about different ways people mourn. But he’s never heard someone carry loss the way you do, as if it’s stitched into your very being.

You don’t cry often, but the weight of your sorrow lingers in everything you do. When you stand by the window, eyes searching the sky, he knows you’re looking for something beyond it. He wonders if you even realize it yourself.

You’re prone to sleepless nights, and he notices. He starts leaving herbal tea by your door, citing Heartslabyul’s rules on proper health. It’s a quiet way of saying I see you. I won’t push, but I care.

If you ever have a panic attack, he’s caught between his instinct to enforce structure and his awareness that grief doesn’t obey rules. He opts for quiet presence, sitting nearby, offering something tangible—warm tea, gentle words, a familiar voice grounding you back to reality.

─────────────────────────

Leona immediately senses something different about you. Unlike others who fear his presence, you meet his gaze with quiet detachment. No apprehension, no admiration. Just... acceptance. It annoys him at first. Then it intrigues him.

He’s not stupid. He’s seen loss before, but the way you carry yours—it’s not just sadness. It’s survival. Like someone who had no choice but to keep going.

“Tch. What’s with that look?” he mutters one evening when he catches you gazing at the stars, eyes unfocused. When you answer with a soft, “I’m looking for someone who isn’t looking back,” he doesn’t respond. But he doesn’t leave, either.

Sometimes he hears you humming when you think you’re alone. The melody is gentle, sorrowful—like a song meant for ghosts. He never asks about it, but it lingers in his mind long after.

He’s not the type to console with words, so instead, he gives you space to exist. If you need silence, he won’t talk. If you need company, he won’t push. And if you need rest, he’ll grumble about it before shoving a pillow at you and muttering, “Take a nap, herbivore.”

─────────────────────────

Azul is drawn to your presence. You exude a kind of mystique, a quiet allure that reminds him of deep, uncharted waters. But when he looks closer, he sees something else—fatigue. A weariness that no amount of rest could fix.

He’s fascinated by your voice. It’s hauntingly beautiful, a siren’s call that lingers even after the music fades. He briefly considers asking if you’d like to perform at Mostro Lounge, but the way your expression shifts—like the mere thought exhausts you—makes him reconsider.

One night, he catches you singing alone. There’s no audience, no stage—just you and your memories. He doesn’t interrupt. For once, Azul allows himself to simply listen.

He recognizes the way your fingers sometimes twitch when holding a microphone, the way you hesitate before stepping into a room full of people. It reminds him of his own fears, his own battles with past humiliation.

When he finally hears you say Mizi’s name or mention your longing, he doesn’t pry. But he does something rare—he offers you silence, a place where you don’t have to perform.

─────────────────────────

Kalim is immediately drawn to you. You’re elegant, composed—but there’s something about you that feels distant. Like you’re here, but not really here.

He loves music, and your voice is unlike anything he’s ever heard. But when he excitedly asks you to sing at a Scarabia event, your smile falters for just a second before you politely decline. The moment stays with him.

He doesn’t push, but he watches. He notices how you linger by the windows during late nights, how your gaze drifts skyward, searching for something only you can see.

When you finally whisper, “I miss someone,” he doesn’t respond with the usual cheerful reassurances. Instead, he simply sits beside you, letting you talk if you want to.

Kalim doesn’t always understand grief, but he understands loneliness. So he makes sure you never feel alone, whether through spontaneous invitations or simply keeping you company in comfortable silence.

─────────────────────────

Vil sees you as a performer, but not in the way others do. He recognizes the way you carry yourself—not as someone who wants attention, but as someone who was forced into it.

You don’t take up space like he does. Instead, you exist in a way that demands attention without seeking it. That, in itself, is an art form.

He doesn’t offer empty comforts when he realizes how deeply you grieve. Instead, he tells you something cryptic: “The world is cruel to those who shine too brightly. But you’re still here. Make sure you stay that way.”

He’s a firm believer in self-care, but when he catches you neglecting yourself—skipping meals, overworking—his tone sharpens. “A broken star is of no use to anyone. You won’t find what you’re looking for by destroying yourself.”

He never asks about Mizi directly, but one evening, as he watches you stare at the sky, he murmurs, “Whoever she was, I hope she knew how much she mattered to you.”

─────────────────────────

Idia doesn’t do well with emotions—especially not ones as heavy as yours. But he sees the signs. The way your fingers sometimes shake when you hold a microphone. The way your gaze flickers elsewhere when he speaks, like you’re remembering someone else.

He recognizes that grief isn’t just sadness—it’s obsession. He understands shutting yourself away from the world because reality is too painful.

He won’t ask about Mizi, but if you ever mention her, he listens. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to comfort you. He just listens.

One day, he programs a small game. In it, there’s a tiny, pixelated version of you and another girl—a girl who looks like Mizi. He never mentions it, but when you find it on your screen, you understand.

This is his way of remembering, too.

─────────────────────────

Malleus is drawn to you immediately. Not because of your voice, but because of your presence—like an echo of something long forgotten.

He understands longing. The way you search the sky for something beyond reach—it’s the same way he waits for letters that never come.

When he first hears Mizi’s name, he doesn’t ask. But later, he quietly wonders, “Do you think she would be proud of you?” The question lingers.

If you ever tell him about Alien Stage, he listens with deep fascination. A world where people had to sing to survive, where every note was a battle. He wonders if, in another life, you and Mizi might have been free.

[k-aemi]

Chubby!Reader getting bullied at school for their looks and came crying home to stepbro!Kaiser and he had to comfort her by making reader sit on his face and eat her out to prove she's not heavy at all and is Soo pretty when she cries from overstimulation.

kaiser michael ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ heavy love.

smut, face sitting, praises, overstim, 69, stepcest.

its implied chubby, but it can be for any body type so u girlies dont feel excluded ♡(>ᴗ•)

it was never nice living with your father. having to constantly be in fear and on guard. you hated it, you wished you were never born in this life. but kaiser makes it bearable. just a tad bit, hell comfort you by ruffling your head and reassuring you.

you guys were always on a shortage of food. kaiser would either have to steal or take remains of the left overs. you hated it! you didnt like when he stole from others, but you also didnt like eating peoples left overs, its so gross that you basically rather starve yourself.

kaiser doesnt have any other choice. he does this for yours and his survival. at least he tries, he always feels so bad when he cant give you life you wanted. a nice family, a big house, and cute clothing. the kid you are, you cant see the effort he puts in for you </3

to make yourself a bit better, hed enrolled you in school so you had some sort of interaction and so you can at least be able to read and write. it was the best decision he made! you loved interacting with other people, it made you run away from the horror being at home.

suddenly in the middle of a lecture, youre engrossed in your work until a bang is heard at the front. its...kaiser? what was he doing here? he scans the room before spotting you. he walks up to your desk and you stood up.

"misha, what you doing here?" he gives no response but just a little grunt. snatching your wrist and leading you out. youre confused, had something happen? youre about to open your mouth to speak again but he shushes you.

turns out he was recruited into the bastard munchen football team. youre so happy for him, but what you didnt expect was the money he was about to make from this.

using this, kaiser was able to move out from father, and actually afford the necessities you guys needed. it was wonderful, he was able to buy you food and you might of went crazy with it.

he spoiled you with food you always wanted to eat back as a kid. you loved it, you loved the food, and you loved your big brother. hed buy you sweets all the time! how can you refuse? its everything youve always wanted to eat!

its not until youve realized maybe you have eaten a lot, but it wont do you any harm right? wrong. entering in college, you thought itd be really easy going since you heard people are really nice though! the lectures were a bit difficult but youll get used to it soon!

you had your break and youre outside in the court eating just a little something kaiser bought for you! such a sweet brother he is. but that joy of yours is ruined when you hear a remark about you.

"do you see how much shes eating? shes probably gonna have a heart attack..!" you can hear a couple girls snicker behind you. you know, maybe they were talking about someone else! you shrugged it off and continued to eat.

"cant even eat properly too, look at how big of a bite she took. shes gonna weight ten times more than me.." you can hear giggling and now its confirmed, they were in fact talking about you. youve never felt such a way before you dont even know how to react, you dont even realize it but now youre crying.

after a long day youve arrived back to your place. kaiser was off practice today so he was just in the living room, indulging himself in a book to past the time. his attention shifts to you when you open the door. noticing your saddened face.

you enter in, taking your shoes off before sitting down next to kaiser. you frown, remembering the event during your break.

"misha, do i look weird..?" you shift your gaze to his eyes. your frown is noticeable and he takes note of it. he cups your cheeks and caresses it. "no. of course not. whats with this?" he has a serious face to him. recalling what had happened you just cant help but tear up, sniffling.

"t-there was these girls...they said i eat too much! and...i-i heard it all they said i was gonna be heavy..." you cry and his face softens a bit. he wipes your tears wit his thumb, ruffling with your hair.

"youre perfect. not a single thing wrong about you." he kissed your tear eyes away. you feel a bit comforted, but the words of those girls still lingered in your head, and it seemed his works didnt full sink in. he knows youre a pain in the ass when it came to this, sometimes when hed yell at you, you become a crying mess.

"shh shh...youre not heavy. can prove it to you, yeah?" he rubbed his forehead against yours and you open your eyes to meet his. "h-huh? prove..?" the last thing you saw was his smirk.

you dont even know what happened, kaiser just told you to strip your clothes away and hover over him. its embarrassing really, but he said itd be perfect for you to see yourself in his eyes. you dont know how hed do that but whatever big brother said!

"m-misha...i dont wanna sit on you...'m g'na hurt you!" you whined out, but hes too much in a trance as your bare pussy is in his face. the way it pulses when his breath touched your sensitive bud had him spiraling emotions he cant describe right now.

youre propped up above him and he feels up your thighs, squishing the soft flesh. "s'okay prinzessin. youre not g'na hurt me." he licks his lips and his breathing becomes ragged as he can feel his cock stiffen under his pants. its like it had a mind of its own, it wants to be out of its restraints.

you can only let out a sigh, giving in, you settle yourself down, just lightly. youre crazy to think youd put all your weight on him! of course kaiser takes notice of this, clicking his tongue in annoyance before pulling your whole weight down on him. his grip on you is tight, and you cant even lift yourself up.

kaisers eyes roll back, your scent is so intoxicating and the way your clit rested on his nose was everything. shit this may be his favorite meal of all time, his baby sisters pussy <3

you can feel the wet muscle exploring your pussy and you let out a pathetic moan. god what was this feeling...? it feels so good but weird at the same time. you cant help squeeze your thighs into him more. you think youre hurting kaiser but he actually fucking loves it.

he loves how your thigh closes in on his head, its like suffocating him and he loves the feeling. he continues to lap at your pussy, prodding his tongue at your hole while youre just a whining mess.

"m-misha wait too much-" you grip onto his hair, but he can only ignore your pleas and continue. you practically hear him slobbering all over your pussy and its makes you flustered. you cant anymore, it was too much! tears threatened to spill from your eyes from the immense pleasure.

kaiser didnt care, he needed this. bad. your pussys so addictive he cant stop, its like a drug to him, a cure to his mental state. holy shit his dick needed to be out of his pants right now. he can only admire the sight of your teary eyed self, it just means hes making you feel so fuckin' good right now.

he latches himself off your pussy and you huffed. catching up with your breath as kaiser just watches your pussy pulses, fuck thats so hot-

"turn around." youre too caught up with catching up with your breath you dont question it. youre met with his bulge that sticks out and its huge. its moving on its own!

youre not so sure of it, but it pretty much says "i want to be out". you swallow your built up saliva, unzipping the confinements. this was it? it was so big and his tip was leaking pre-cum. kaiser cant help but thrust his hip onto your face, he needs to feel you so bad already. just hurry up and take him in your mouth.

"put your mouth on it. hurry." he demands. this big thing in your mouth? that was literally impossible...but anything for big brother, hes trying so hard to comfort you, this is the least you can do right?

just lightly putting the tip in was already difficult enough. your gag reflexes were bad, so he hopes its okay! kaiser was already happy youre there to suck his cock. feeing so relinquished as he slurps up your cunt again.

you moan into his cock and the vibrations felt sooo good. he wants to keep making you moan until you come on his face.

well, your high was coming. from the way he just kept eating you like youre his last meal ever, its no wonder you feel the knot in your tummy.

“m-micha-‘m g’na cwumm…” you whined out and he thinks its so cute how you cant properly speak because of his big cock. his cock is doing that to you, no one elses.

hes at his limit too. wouldnt it be so cute that you guys come together? he thinks it is.

thats when you reach your high and all kaiser does is drink the sweet juice that spill. it spills onto his face and splattered everywhere. you moan into his cock pathetically and that was his end game, cumming inside your warm mouth, god he wishes he can feel like that once more.

you fall limp on him and heavy breaths are heard within the room. he gives a light slap to your ass and you yelp, making you pout at him. he can only chuckle before grabbing the flesh. “dont say stupid shit anymore.” he refers back to your past concerns.

is it rushed? i hope not (ヽ´ω`) i will rest now, and write two for you guys tomorrow or three on the weekend, more kaiser fics for those in my anons and i will keep up with the requests do not worry!!! you guys really like a lot of sibling fics, this is now just a sibling page for bllk!!! i swear i will write other things 〒▽〒

blue divider: kodaswrld

[themultifanshipper]

You should write a little thing on all the drivers (maybe even old drivers ) kinks like there most dirtiest kinkiest kinks

Ask and you shall recieve

The freakiest kinks on the grid (and some not on the grid)

Warnings: mention of some relatively hardcore kinks, check tags for included drivers they're not all there

Carlos - overstimulation and multiple orgasms. Not the darkest kink out there but he is obsessed. Never will you come only once, he will always make you come over and over again. He isn't one for quickies, he likes drawing it out and teasing you for hours relentlessly until you're begging him to stop his torment. Whether he does stop or not depends on his mood, and how much of a brat you've been that day.

Alex - He likes to cover you in cum. I don't know why but he gives me the vibes of someone who will always pull out to come on your stomach, thighs, ass, tits... and maybe dip his fingers in to make you suck it off. Maybe even finger it back into you. Idk he just likes cum I can't explain it. Something about claiming you, seeing his cum on your soft skin just makes him feral.

Pierre has a canonically big dick, and a size kink to boot. So he loves that he's on the verge of too big for you. When he can tell the stretch is bordering on pain he gets inexplicably feral, and belly bulges? He will cum early if he looks down to see his cock making a bump. He just loves that he can make you feel so full.

Lando - taking photos/videos. I don't think it's that far from the truth when he says he'd be an onlyfans model. Filthy and artistic? He'll use you as a model and take pictures of you during sex. He has a hard drive full of filthy videos. He'll fill you up and take a picture of his cum dripping out of you, he'll cover you in hickeys and capture the resulting patterns to put in a naughty scrapbook. Also he really likes being pegged, but that does not go in the scrapbook.

Max - shibari. Being tied up and unable to move. Forced to be submissive while you have your way with him. He has those days where he needs to surrender and give you full control of his body. He also loves the process of being tied up, watching you bind him in rope and make all those intricate knots against his skin. He orders rope online, he likes seeing you create different colour combinations and patterns. He's a bit acoustic like that.

Charles - piss kink. I will not elaborate.

Fernando - public sex. But not just public sex. One thing he adores is using one of those remote controlled vibrators on you in public. He's made you come multiple times in front of his friends and colleagues. And none of them have caught on yet, you've had no choice but to become very good at hiding your pleasure.

Oscar - cuckholding. There's something so satisfying to him, watching you get so much pleasure from someone else, then showing you that he can do so much better. His competitive streak comes out and he becomes a beast, fucking you so good you forget all about who fucked you before. He's not against sharing you with his gridmates either, he's certainly not a stranger to threesomes, but he'll hold back and observe. He'll study the other person and how they're making you feel good, then afterwards he'll perfect their technique, making sure he's better than them.

Lewis - consensual non consent, and free use. Anytime he comes home, he's on you in seconds. Sometime's you'll push back, act like you don't want it. But you have a safeword, and if it's used, he stops. As long as the word doesn't leave your lips, he can do anything he wants to you. You can scream, cry, and beg him to stop, but he knows that you want it just as much as he does. There's nothing you love more than him holding you down and having his way with you.

George - Roleplay. And I'm not talking teacher/student. I'm talking more mafia boss, burglar breaking in, pimp with his prostitute etc... the darker stuff that delves into cnc. He'll pretend he's just acquired you, and he has to break you in. Or inspect you. The more degrading for you, the more fun for him. Of course you have a safe word in case you don't like anything he's doing, but you never use it.

Franco - public sex. We know he's had sex in a car, and I wouldn't put it past him to enjoy the public aspect of that. If he's in the mood he'll take you to the bathrooms at an event, or the changing rooms if you're shopping, or in a quiet corner of a park/beach when no one's around. Also BALCONY SEX.

Sebastian - bdsm. That man has a collection. Toys, restraints, he's into pretty much everything, and he'll try anything once. Tying you up, choking, hair pulling, spanking, vibrators, dildos... individually not super kinky, but all together, they paint a pretty depraved picture. Even throw a little bit of roleplay in there and he's in pure heaven.

Kimi R. - Sex in unusual places. Specifically his yacht, his jet, his penthouse balcony, anywhere that is visible and is a symbol of his wealth that he can spoil you with. Maybe he'll rent out your favourite restaurant so he can take you right there on the table. Maybe he pays for an expensive trip somewhere exotic where he can fuck you in front of beautiful scenery. Either way, he's a massive simp for you.

Jenson - Mommy kink. Generally speaking, he'll be on top, singing your praises as he fucks you like there's no tomorrow. But sometimes, just sometimes, he's the one that needs to be praised, to be held and told he's being such a good boy for you. If he's desperate enough, you'll tie him up and make him fuck you from below while you do your best to keep your composure, and tell him he's doing a good job, being so fucking good for mommy. When you do that he comes within seconds.

[luvs4haechan]

Hiiii

Could you write a fluff fic about Mark and the reader where they're engaged and it's some romantic scene where they slowdance in their apartment or somthn? Thank you, no worries if u don't want to!

slow dancing

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff!!

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: mark x fem!reader

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵/𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: established relationship, literally so much fluff, no use of y/n i think

𝘸𝘤: 1200

masterlist

the computer screen had become blinding, the coffee mugs on your desk had piled up, and it was fair to say you'd had enough. exam season and every day cramming had definitely gotten the better of you. picking an academically challenging degree seemed like a good idea at the time, but now - staring at the equations on the screen - you realise it might not have been the best choice.

in the midst of you debating whether an engineering degree is worth all this, your phone made the familiar noise of a new message. sluggishly moving your eyes from the computer you read the message. "i know you’ve been studying for too long. you need a break. come over?" it said. seeing the words from your boyfriend caused a smile to spread over your face, no matter how much the oppisite you were feeling right now. you realised a long time ago, that mark seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. keeping that in mind, you closed your laptop and got ready to head to his place.

after a short walk, you were face to face with the front door of mark's apartment. you knocked a few times and the door immediately opened.

"have you been waiting by the door? what was that?" you said, a confused expression on your face.

"no?" he looked at you, just as confused. however, your expression stayed the same. "dude, come on," he took your hand and pulled you inside. this caused a smile to break out on your face, something he never failed to achieve. before you could react, mark's arms were around you and you were pulled into his warm embrace. you hadn't realised how much you needed this until you felt a soft kiss being pressed into your shoulder. "you okay?" he whispered.

blinking away the sudden tears, you sighed. "i am," you said, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. because now you really were okay. mark took a moment to look over your features, analysing whether you were telling the truth. when he was satisfied with your answer, he pressed a quick kiss on your forehead.

"i made you dinner. figured you hadn't eaten," your boyfriend said, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen.

"i haven't," you said, slightly embarrassed. "mark be so glad you never wanted to be an engineer, because why am i doing triple integrals," you sighed, leaning against the counter in his kitchen.

"i'll pretend to understand what you're talking about right now," he threw a playful look your way before focusing on the meal waiting to be reheated. "but i do know how hard you've been working, and trust me it will pay off. i'm so proud of you for never giving up on your dream," mark was speaking sincerely, meaning every single word. when you didn't think you could spare more of your heart, he always proved you wrong, taking all the space in there for himself.

"thank you, baby. it means a lot, really," you said, looking at him with a look that, you hoped, conveyed all the love you held for him.

mark sent a smile your way, giving you a very similar look to yours. "can you set up the table, please? i'm almost done here," he asked, getting some plates out the cupboard. you nodded, making your way towards the table, swiping a bottle of wine on your way. you placed everything very neatly, all edges squared off. finally, you put some music on - mark's record player is probably your favourite part of his apartment, and his vinyl collection is always enticing. as the slow buzz of some slow indie song filled the apartment, mark placed two plates on the table. the both of you sat down, digging straight into the dinner mark had prepared.

"mark," you started, mouth full of pasta. "this is so good," he didn't miss the surprise in your tone, nethertheless he smiled at the compliment. "thank you," you said, more serious now. "for knowing me better than i know myself," the look you shared said more than words ever could. you never thought there could be so much love between two people, but what you and mark shared always proved how wrong you were.

the boy across from you took your hand in his own, a small smile on his face. "you know caring for you is my favourite thing to do," he looked you, he really looked at you - seeing all that you've been silently fighting. you nodded hearing his words, not sure words would do what you're feeling justisce so you settled for a squeeze of his hand and a loving gaze.

after a lovely meal, which mark swore he made fully by himself, you were both in the kitchen cleaning up. the slow melody of a song you hadn't heard before hung in the air, as mark washed the dishes and you dried them before placing them in their destined spots in the cupboards. "this is a good song, i've not heard it before," you commented, swaying slightly. mark looked at you, a smile spreading on his face.

"the vinyl's new, i bought it last weekend when i went to that music shop with hyuck," he spoke softly, washing some cutlery.

"of course you're going on dates with donghyuck," you rolled your eyes, instigating. mark laughed at your words, shrugging yet not denying what you said.

after he finished washing the last of the dishes, he dried his hands and took your own in his. your boyfriend pulled you to the space between his kitchen and living room, pulling you close. his hands rested on your waist, as he started swaying the both of you to the soft notes of the song playing on his record player. despite your initial surprise, your hands crossed behind his neck pulling him even closer. you could smell his cologne that fainted over the day, his laundry detergent that smelled like a field full of flowers in the spring, and the wine you shared over dinner. mark's embrace felt comforing, as the song faded into another equally slow and moving record.

"i love you," he whispered over the words of the song, sealing his words with a kiss beneath your ear. "i can't wait to make you mine forever," he punctuated his words with his fingers caressing your ring finger. you closed your eyes, feeling his heartbeat mingling with your own. knowing your hearts were pressed against each other, and beating in the same rhythym comforted you beyond belief.

"i love you too," you whispered back, your hand making its way into the hair at the nape of his neck. you pulled back slightly, looking him in the eyes - your gaze darting to his lips for a moment. mark followed your movements, leaning in closer. he pressed a kiss to your lips, conveying all his love for you in one gesture. he was sure you could feel it, as he felt all the emotions you tried your best to communicate. the both of you pulled away after a short while, embracing each other again as the song once again changed.

slow dancing with mark was the best distraction you could ask for.

𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘴!

first request omggg thank u sm anon hope this is what u meant!! listened to 'too much ain't enough' by arthur hill while writing this can u tell?? send more requests bc i really enjoyed writing this 😛😛😛

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Hi :) I was wondering if you could do a fic or fake texts (your choice) with a s/o who has really bad mental health and gets angry easily which can lead to a manic episode? Like they start screaming or throwing things, it’s okay if not i love your work sm <33

No one asked, but personally, I have BPD and anger issues, so I know what this is like. Sometimes, when I'm in an episode, I pretend Chan helps me out of it, so writing this was great. Thanks for the request! (If you like reading stuff like this, I wrote a book/fanfic called Time Heals Everything. I discuss topics like this plus more. In part 2 of the book, it becomes even more heavy. Maybe check it out? It's on my Masterlist!)

A/N: To anyone reading this, know you're not alone. Try talking to friends about how you feel. It truly can take the pressure off of it sometimes. If you don't want to do that, imagine how Chan (or any SKZ member) would help you through these though times! Delulu is sometimes the solulu. Disclaimer: Not all the time of course. Remind yourself of what's real, and even if you like imagining, acknowledge it's just a cooping mechanism.

Bruises 🕸🤍

[He finds you while having a manic episode]

Bang Chan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

[4:10 PM]

Work was too much today. You were so pissed off at litterly everything. It's like you were cursed or something. Nothing seemed to work out. You decided to go home early; told your boss you were sick.

When u got home you felt empty. Suddenly the hectic environment was the complete opposite. Silence. No one was home. As suppose to normal I guess since your boyfriend wouldn't be home for a while either way. But this peace, this nothingness...it was nice but...it gave u space to think. Maybe a little too much space to think. You started spiralling. Overthinking about complete nonsense.

A few hours passed by. You sat in the corner of the room next to the couch. You were nearing the end of an episode.

Knees up against your chest. A tear felt from your numb expressionless face. Staring blankly ahead. Your eyes were bloodshot due to crying so much. You got so angry at yourself in these last few hours, you needed relief, so you...hit yourself.

You promised you'd call Chris if your episodes got bad, but you simply didn't feel like it.

It wasn't too bad this time, really, just a few tiny bruises appeared on your thighs...oh fuck. Maybe it was worse then you thought. Hopefully they wouldn't get even more visible...

[10:33 PM]

"Honey I'm home!", Chris yelled. Dropping his bag, throwing his zip-up hoodie on the chair and tossing his keys on the table. Not getting a response made him wonder if you maybe just went to sleep already. But you would've left the lights on for him, like you always do. No, something was definitely off.

The curtains were still open. The only light coming through was from the moon. It was raining, and that was the only sound he heard. Just the heavy drops pouring on the glass.

Shaking off some of the water still on his hair, he walked over to the couch. His heart stopped for a second, finally noticing you.

"Baby, what are you- are you okay?". Sitting down next to you trying to make sense of the situation that had seemed to come out of nowhere to him. "Baby please answer me? Did something happen?".

You loved him for his protectiveness and how much he loved and cared for you...but you simply couldn't handle anything right now. "Please just leave me alone for a bit Chris.", you said soflty, staring at the wet window, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"Alone? You think I can let you alone when you're like this? That wouldn't feel right baby, you know I can't do that. You are my everything...", he said. "Just please, leave me for a bit.", you said again with an undertone of violence this time but still soft.

"Y/n...come on let me hel-", he said while pulling your arm a bit trying to lift you up from the cold floor. "I SAID LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, GOD FOR FUCK SAKES HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU?", you yelled out fully fuming with anger, despite his 'good heartedness'.

He was shocked. Not knowing why you were suddenly screaming at him. "Don't yell y/n...", he said as he got up and took a step back. "Look if you want space, I'll give it to you, but at least let me know why. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?", he asked calmly trying to calm you down also. That didn't work though, he only made it worse.

"NOT EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS ABOUT YOU GOSH, UHG.", you said without even thinking. At this point you were just yelling out mean things you didn't even mean. "I GET IT, YOUR PERFECT LITTLE LIFE HAS A FLAW IN IT, AKA ME, WELL SORRY OKAY!".

He just stood there mind blown at the irrelevant statements that were thrown at him all of a sudden. Staying silent, trying not to yell back. Then out of no where it hit him...maybe you were having an episode? You hadn't had one in a good few weeks. But lately he has been a little MIA, so he maybe didn't notice as much...

"Baby, listen to me. You're having an episode, I get it. I will just let you be for a bit, to calm yourself down. I'll be in my room if you're ready, okay?", he said, trying to give you time to breath and slow your heart rate back down.

"NO, YOU'RE NOT HEARING ME! MAYBE THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.", you yelled again. Then throwing your glass of water onto the wall right next to him.

He dodged the glass just in time. Both of you completely shocked at what just happened. You instantly came to your senses, hoping he wasn't hurt.

"Baby baby baby, no no, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to do that, I'm so sorry...fuck", you said as you ran towards him, checking if he was truly okay. He stayed quiet for the first few seconds, still processing your previous actions.

"I'm fine...but you're not baby. These anger issues...they're getting out of hand. You need help.", he said squeezing your hand. He knew you didn't mean to hurt him, or say all those things before. But he knew he needed to act fast.

"I know you don't want help, but this can be dangerous if untreated." You nodded. Crying due to the shock of almost injuring him. You would've never forgiven yourself for that. "I know...but I don't want to talk to other people about my issues.", you said to him as you closed your eyes for a few seconds, scared of letting other people in.

"I understand. Why not talk to me then huh? Even if it's hard?", he suggested. You nodded in agreement again. "No y/n, I mean it. Last time you also said you'd call me, but you never do. You gotta talk to me sweets, just try. Not just for me, but for yourself. If you don't, I'll have to call the doctors.", he said scaring you off a little, just to point out how serious he was. "No! I don't need them. I'll call you, I promise!".

He looked at you trying to figure out the amount of truth behind your words. "Hmhm, okay then. Promise.", he said, holding out his pinkie so you could swear on it. Reaching out your hand to complete the promise he noticed...some red marks on you knuckles.

Taking your hand in his, studying the spots. "What happend?", he asked with angry eyes. Just because he was worried as fuck about you, again. "I...a few hours ago I....". Without finishing you sentence you looked down at your legs.

He followed your gaze and crouched down to his knees. Taking in this new sight as a tear slipped from his waterline. "Y/n.", not even being able to finish what he was gonna say. His hand gliding over your bruises. A sudden hiss from you and he was back on his feet, so he could face you again.

"I don't think I have another choice, but to call someone about this baby, this is far beyond getting out of hand." You took his face in your hands. "But you promised...", you replied, not seeming to understand the worry you give him by doing these things.

"I can't watch you do this to yourself and not help you for real. How about...we just call for one session? I'll go with you. Maybe we could just ask for medication? Please Y/n, for me? It's gonna be fine. Just one session, and maybe some pills will help you with your extreme mood swings. All I want is for you to be safe.", he spoke.

You gave him a nod again. Both exhausted from previous events, now falling in each others arms.

"Okay."

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[yassbishimvintage]

Not sure if your still taking requests for a story but if you are could you do one where Aaron and his wife are both famous and while Aaron was on set filming his assistant get a call saying his wife is going into labor and Aaron is racing to get to her and helps her give birth.

Any day now Jas would be giving birth. Considering our career choices we were both thrown into the limelight. Her a renowned artist and me an actor. I heard my assistant. "Aaron! Its time! Jas has gone into labor!" 

Adrenaline surged through me as I bolted upright. This was it—the moment we had been waiting for. My heart pounded as I grabbed my jacket and rushed toward the door, barely registering my assistant’s frantic gestures.

"Where is she?" I asked, already moving.

"She's on the way to the hospital!" they replied. "Her team is with her, but you need to get there now!"

I barely took a breath before sliding into the car, my mind racing. Jas and I had talked about this day endlessly—how we’d planned for every possibility. But now that it was happening, all of that preparation felt like a blur. The only thing that mattered was getting to her.

As the city lights streaked past, I tried to steady my breathing. This is real. This is happening. Our lives were about to change forever.

Jas’s assistant spotted me before I even made it to the hospital entrance, waving me down frantically.

“Aaron! She’s already in delivery!” they shouted, breathless from running.

My stomach flipped. Already? I barely had time to process the news before I was ushered through the hospital doors. The sterile scent hit me as we weaved through the hallways, my pulse hammering.

“How is she? Is she okay?” I demanded, my voice tight with urgency.

“She’s doing great, but she’s asking for you,” they assured me, pushing open a set of double doors.

The moment I stepped into the room, my eyes locked on Jas. Sweat clung to her forehead, her face twisted in both exhaustion and determination. She turned her head slightly, catching sight of me, and in that instant, I saw everything—love, relief, and an unspoken hurry up and get over here!

I rushed to her side, gripping her hand tightly. “I’m here, love. I’m here.”

Jas let out a shaky breath, squeezing my hand as another contraction hit. “Took you long enough,” she managed with a weak smirk.

I kissed her damp forehead. “Let’s do this.”

I was taken aback when he asked who I was. 

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. Who was I? Seriously?

“I’m her husband,” I said, my voice firm, my grip tightening around Jas’s hand. “The father.”

The doctor gave me a brief nod, seemingly satisfied, before turning back to Jas. "Alright, Jasmine, you're doing great. Just a few more pushes."

Jas let out a sharp breath, squeezing my hand so hard I was sure she’d cut off circulation. “Aaron,” she panted, her eyes searching mine. “I can’t—”

“You can,” I said instantly, leaning in close. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve got this.”

She gave a small nod, determination flickering in her eyes despite the exhaustion.

"Okay, Jasmine, one more big push!" the doctor urged.

I felt Jas tense, and then—after what felt like an eternity—a piercing cry filled the room. My breath caught in my throat as the doctor lifted a tiny, wriggling form into the air.

"You have a beautiful baby girl!"

Everything else faded—the hospital room, the noise, the exhaustion. All I could see was her. Our daughter.

Jas collapsed back onto the bed, tears streaking down her face as she let out a breathless laugh. “We did it,” she whispered.

I swallowed hard, my vision blurring as I kissed her forehead. “Yeah, love. We did.”

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @brattyfics @notapradagurl7 @gopaperless @jenlovey @nikkinik @novahreign @violetmuses @thevelvetwhispers @androgynousgaz @brattyfics

[fakemouthstaticpilot]

Can we talk about how, now that Lou has been seen on the show again, and Tim has told us that he's going to be in the 2 parter, how he's starting to post 911 specific posts again?

None of this "hidden message to my fans to decode" crap.

Also, the fact that from our sleuthing, due to one innocuous little building post, we already figured he was in the 2 parter.

But the fact that it appears that he and Oliver were filming on that building, together, quite possibly alone, at sunset, and a crew member used the song "Love and Sunsets" in their story from that shoot.

I have been burned by song choices before (looking at you "The Night We Met" and 15x20 of Supernatural) but this does feel different.

And I know that the buddies feel over confident about Buddie happening, but what's new?

An acquaintance of mine, who is very GA, and I were talking. She hasn't seen 11 yet, but was so happy to hear that Tommy came back. And she told me "I'm sad Eddie's leaving".

The GA doesn't see Buddie.

The GA likes Tommy and sees that Eddie has left, purchasing a home and giving his lease over to Buck.

Yes, Eddie could come back, and the living situation would have to change, but it was done this way for a reason.

A reason we won't know until the season is over.

Look, if we didn't know what we know about 14/15 and Tommy, maybe I would be worried, but I'm not.

Also, know that Lou doesn't like sex/makeout scenes unless they serve a purpose in the story is really making me think about the narrative the show is writing with those characters.

Tl;Dr I have full faith that Buck & Tommy are endgame.

[xverzuszofficial]

Chapter III - The Temptress

[WORK IN PROGRESS - WIP!!]

[WORK IN PROGRESS - WIP!!]

[WORK IN PROGRESS - WIP!!]

(So I got my friend @dazelvel into Slay the Princess aswell to the point where she is now head over heels for The Long Quiet, and has designed a self-insert/custom Princess for herself - and it got me in the headspace to write a custom route for her! I dubbed her The Temptress! Dazel if you come across this (which you undoubtedly will cause Imma share this to you as soon as Im finished with it: hiiiiiii :D))

[Follow instructions in square brackets after texts for the interactive experience!]

Chapter III - "The Temptress"

The Narrator: You're on a path in the - .

Voice of the Smitten: You foul beasts, all of you! How dare you deny us our happy ending?!

The Narrator: Excuse me?

Voice of the Hero: He's being mad about last time.

Voice of the Smitten: We were just about to grasp the beginning of our beautiful life together, and you - you wretched, evil, dark hearted monsters - took it away from us! She trusted us wholely, and you stabbed her at the gates to freedom!

Voie of the Hero: The whole situation sounded fishy, don't you think? Or is your mind so hazed by your own desire for love that you can't see? No one just falls in love with you that easily. And especially after murdering us.

The Narrator: 'Murdering us' ? 'Stabbing her at the gates to freedom' - what are you two talking about?

Voice of the Hero: This isn't our first time back here.

The Narrator: Okay ... (Sigh) How many times has it been?

Voice of the Hero: This is number three.

Voice of the Stubborn: What does it matter how many times we've been here before? If we are back, then she is back too - that means we've lost to her. We have to get to her now and settle this once and for all!

Voice of the Smitten: Yes, take us to her post haste! We have an appology to deliver!

Voice of the Stubborn: The hell we need to appologize for? Finally getting her and letting her kick the bucket on the cold, stone floor?

Voice of the Smitten: The brutal death of our dearly beloved by our wretched, cold hands! Oh, I can't even imagine the way she feels right now. The memories of our betrayal must still linger on within her mind...

Voice of the Hero: It appears to me that those two are going to be our main source of pain before she potentially stabs us again.

The Narrator: Alright, okay, I am not going to bother with the beginning of everything - it seems like you already get the jist of things, so let's get a move on.

---CHOICE---

[Explore] Everything feels ... off. [go to: 100]

[Explore] Stabbing her so close to freedom really did feel awful. [go to: 120]

[Silently proceed towards the cabbin.] [go to: 130]

---

[130] --- The Narrator: Your familiarity with the cabin is shifted. A sturdy, wooden bridge, cast above a rapid river is what leads you to the mountain that the cabin resides ontop of.

Voice of the Hero: You ... weren't kidding about the mountain part, were you?

The Narrator: Do I still need to let you know, after two cycles, that the things I describe to you are facts?

Voice of the Hero: (Sigh) Do we really have to climb all the way up? I can't see anything apart from the roof of the thing!

Voice of the Stubborn: And? A little bit of warming up never hurt anybody! And it's not like it'll hurt us! Let's get a move on!

Voice of the Smitten: If I could, I'd fly up those rocky cliffs in the blink of an eye to get her, but our love is worth all the pain those sharp rocks and - !

Voice of the Stubborn: Ugh, just cut it out already, will you?

Voice of the Smitten: How dare you! I was - !

Voice of the Stubborn: Shut up already! You don't - no - you REFUSE to get it, do you? No matter how much you try, no matter how many cycles we live through, no matter how many versions of 'oUR DeaRlY beLoVeD' we meet - it all ends the same! Either we beat her, or she beats us! I don't know how long it'll take for you to get it into your thick skull, but it's time for you to snap out of it!

Voice of the Hero: ... Holy shit ...

Voice of the Smitten: ... Your words, my friend, hurt worse than anything she could've ever done to us. Why must you dismiss my feelings for her like that?

Voice of the Stubborn: Oh you'll live, let's just get this done with already!

The Narrator: Okay, your mind is becoming a lot more heated and cluttered by now and I am starting to get scared with how easily you'll be able to get to a rational decision, so just please hurry up!

---CHOICE---

[Climb up the mountain to the cabin.] [go to 131]

---

[120] --- Voice of the Smitten: Yes, and now is the perfect time to show our deepest regrets to her. Maybe, just maybe, she still finds it within her heart to forgive us, and move on from our disastorous mistake!

Voice of the Hero: I can sort of get behind that. Imagine how we would've felt if we got stabbed in the back right as our hand was on the door.

The Narrator: If the worst monster you've ever seen in your entire life would pass by next to you and you had to kill it - would you feel bad?

Voice of the Hero: Depends.

The Narrator: Well it shouldn't 'depend' in this situation. She's a murderous, world destroying monster who you've already killed once! In this situation tho, the monster has already ended you - twice - before you could've gotten rid of her completely.

Voice of the Stubborn: Are you going to give us another one of your lazy, badly written metaphors or are you going to let us go now?

The Narrator: I'll keep them to myself then.

---CHOICE---

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] Everything feels ... off. [go to: 100]

[Silently proceed towards the cabin.] [go to: 130]

---

[100] --- Voice of the Hero: Yeah ... it's almost like the whole forest was burned up. And I can't see a damn thing either.

Voice of the Stubborn: The scary aesthetic never stopped us before, because we keep on persevering! Just push through it and get this done!

Voice of the Smitten: Not even a chance to pick a rose for her. Oh, the beauty you have ripped us away from...

The Narrator: As you stumble your way across the path, blinded by darkness and holding onto the charcoal trees for support, your foot lands right before something that sends an icy chill up your spine. Your foot touches something sharp and metallic.

Voice of the Hero: What is this thing? A beartrap?

Voice of the Stubborn: There isn't just one either, they are scattered all over the place. They're even hung up on the trees. Looks like the lady doesn't want us running into her anytime soon.

Voice of the Smitten: Or perhaps, she's keeping herself safe, and trusts us to find our way through this maze of traps, so that none may get to her but us!

---CHOICE---

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] Stabbing her so close to freedom really did feel awful. [go to: 120]

[Silently proceed towards the cabin.] [go to: 130]

---

[131] --- The Narrator: You begin your ascent up the mountain, following a dangerous, narrow path up the first couple of miles, which slowly become narrower and narrower. Eventually, you find no more path to lay your foot upon, and you are forced to scale the mountainside. Your hands and claws, digging into the sharp edges of rocks and cliffs, pull you upwards, as you feel every muscle within your body both aching and burning in pain. It is an agonizing, yet rewarding feeling climb, as every successful push, every successful pull, and every successful step feels like an achievement before you realize, you cannot see the ground anymore.

Voice of the Stubborn: Yes! This is pure, unfiltered ecstassy right here! I can feel every fibre within us pushing its limits! This is what living feels like! This is the taste of victory!

Voice of the Hero: That's ... quite the way up ... (Sigh) Don't get dizzy. Just don't get dizzy. Don't get dizzy ...

The Narrator: You're doing just fine, you are almost at the top.

Voice of the Stubborn: Come on boys, just a little more!

---CHOICE---

[Push your way up the mountain.] [go to: 132]

---

[132] --- The Narrator: You finally make it up to the cabin, entering its iron gates and stepping inside. The confines of the cabin smell of fragrance and elegance, but - wether because of your exhausted mind, or your past cycles - the beauty of it all strikes you as faux. The ground is covered in the patles of roses, and a red capet leads you down to the basement. The only furniture of note is a marble table with golden edges. Perched on it is the pristine blade you've learned how to wield.

Voice of the Hero: Suffering through all of that and being met with this is actually really, really nice!

Voice of the Smitten: She laid out all of this for us. To see our strength. To see if we can be gifted her forgiveness. We made it up here - .

Voice of the Stubborn: What did I say about snapping out of it? Keep your head in the game. And you, the one who describes stuff, don't bother with any other option - we are taking the blade!

The Narrator: Well I was hoping you would do that in the first place so you are just helping me save ink.

---CHOICE---

[Explore] The carpet just leads to a mirror. [go to: 140]

[Head down to the basement.] [go to: 141]

---

[140] --- Voice of the Hero: The mirror is back again, yeah.

Voice of the Smitten: Perhaps to let us take a final look at ourselves and see if our face is full of shame and desire to be forgiven, or to make sure we don't disappoint her with our looks.

Voice of the Stubborn: Who cares? Just kick it away already and get going!

---CHOICE---

[Head down to the basement.] [go to: 141]

---

[141] --- The Narrator: You walk up to the stone arch entrance of the basement and stop right before the stairs. Do you really think there's a mirror there?

Voice of the Hero: Yeah, it's all grimey and gross though. Maybe we could wipe it clean?

The Narrator: I can't even begin to fathom what those past cycles must've done to you to make you start seeing things, but right now is not the time!

Voice of the Smitten: One last chance before our fate with our beloved is decided.

Voice of the Stubborn: I will, actually, end you if you keep this up. Just kick it down the stairs and get moving!

---CHOICE---

[Wipe the mirror clean.] [go to 143]

[Kick the mirror down the basement.] [go to 144]

---

[144] --- The Narrator: You raise your foot above your waist, bending your knee upwards as you attempt to kick away whatever obstacle was projected ahead of you by your mind, but your foot doesn't connect with anything. Instead, you fall forwards, the velocity of your kick carrying your unbalanced body ontop of the hard, stone stairs, tumbling down to the bottom. Each bump, each flip, each hit feels like something bruises or bends within you.

Voice of the Hero: Nice going on the warpath.

The Princess: "I see you've made quite the journey down my steps, my pretty little bird."

The Narrator: Her voice, coated in a layer of gentleness and passion, graces your ears.

Voice of the Smitten: Just her voice alone is enough to ease all my pains...

---CHOICE---

[Face the Princess] [go to 150]

---

[143] --- The Narrator: You reach forward and extend your hand outwards into the air.

Voice of the Hero: Why am I not surprised?

The Narrator: You descend from the top of the stairs, the rose patels and red carpetting guiding you along and covering your feet from the cold marble steps. Your descent is lit by candles, hung up from above and dripping wax onto golden trays. The air downstairs creeps up, carrying warmth and damptness, like a humid day. If the Princess really lives here, slaying her might be doing her a favour! Her voice, coated in a layer of gentleness and passion, graces your ears as it carries up the stairs.

The Princess: "My pretty little bird, I can hear your feet thumping against my steps, and it makes me feel warm to know you've returned to me."

Voice of the Hero: I ... I don't know how to feel about this. She sounds ... too good.

Voice of the Smitten: Our argous journey up this mountain was not in vain, my friend, you see. She missed us dearly!

---

[150] --- The Narrator: As you raise your head, your eyes meet the Princess' across the room. Your eyes glide along her long hair covering her neck and shoulders, and seemingly flowing into her giant red dress, with her arm still in a shackled chain that you can't quite make out where it goes.

Voice of the Smitten: She is absolute beauty herself! Just looking at her is enough to make me want to jump out of this form and leave you four horrible beings to your lonesomes without her!

Voice of the Hero: I ... woah ...

Voice of the Stubborn: Now ain't that a dress too big? It's like she thinks that by creating a silken barrier around herself, she can escape our confrontation! I wouldn't mind staining it, if you catch my drift.

The Princess: "Welcome, my pretty little bird! I hope your journey wasn't so grueling. Please, come and rest with me, you look beaten."

---CHOICE---

[Explore] "Hold on, this is going a bit too fast!" [go to: 160]

[Explore] "I'd rather have you come and rest with me instead." [go to: 161]

[Explore] [Make bird noises.] [go to: 162]

[Explore] Fellas, I don't know what to do - [go to: 163]

[Approach the Princess.] [go to: 164]

[Slay the Princess.] [go to: 170]

---

[160] --- The Princess: "Oh, is it? Why do you think so? Is it perhaps the guilt you feel from last time, keeping you away from me? When you stabbed me in the back before our happy ending. Or perhaps the time before that, where you helped me escape, and how that felt? My pretty little bird, your heart aches so badly from the past that's already so far behind us. Just let it go already, would you? Let go of those past mistakes and embrace the me in the now."

Voice of the Smitten: So she has forgiven us! Thank you, my love! If you can forgive me wholeheartedly, I can forgive myself, too!

Voice of the Hero: Does that mean you also forgive us, or are we still the 'wretched, evil, horrible monstrocities' like you said?

Voice of the Smitten: My heart is maybe patched for you, my heroic friend, but you, bloodthirsty hound, get no such treatment!

Voice of the Stubborn: Like I give a shit about your forgiveness.

---CHOICE---

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] "I'd rather have you come and rest with me instead." [go to: 161]

(if you haven't ready already) [Explore] [Make bird noises.] [go to: 162]

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] Fellas, I don't know what to do - [go to: 163]

[Approach the Princess.] [go to: 164]

[Slay the Princess.] [go to: 170]

---

[161] --- The Princess: [Chuckling] "Oh you would absolutely love that, wouldn't you? Feel me lay down on your feathery body and allow you to take control? But sadly, I'd have to say no to your offer. My heart might have forgiven you, and it may have forgotten your past mistakes, but my mind hasn't."

The Narrator: She raises a hand to her mouth, covering it as she laughs at your suggestion at closing the distance between you two.

Voice of the Hero: That's reasonable, I suppose? We did kill her, and if I look at it through her lens, then yeah - I wouldn't want to approach someone who I know has backstabbed me once already.

Voice of the Stubborn: Oh, I see. If she doesn't want to come to us, then we have to go to her. Fine by me. I'll show her what's good.

---CHOICE---

[Explore] "Hold on, this is going a bit too fast!" [go to: 160]

(if you haven't ready already) [Explore] [Make bird noises.] [go to: 162]

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] Fellas, I don't know what to do - [go to: 163]

[Approach the Princess.] [go to: 164]

[Slay the Princess.] [go to: 170]

---

[162] --- The Narrator: What?

Voice of the Hero: Huh?

Voice of the Stubborn: THIS IS HUMILIATING!

Voice of the Smitten: Hear our song, my beloved! Our heart reeks of sorrow, and so our song is sad, but your love can make it all happy again!

The Princess: [Happy chuckle] "You really are my pretty little bird, aren't you? Singing out your little heart to me like that makes me just want you more. Please come back to me, pretty little bird."

Voice of the Hero: Can we make a pact to never, NEVER do that again?

Voice of the Stubborn: I second this.

The Narrator: I agree. Let's forget this has ever happened.

---CHOICE---

[Explore] "Hold on, this is going a bit too fast!" [go to: 160]

[Explore] "I'd rather have you come and rest with me instead." [go to: 161]

(if you haven't read already) [Explore] Fellas, I don't know what to do - [go to: 163]

[Approach the Princess.] [go to: 164]

[Slay the Princess.] [go to: 170]

---

[163] --- The Narrator: In that case, here's a good idea: actually end her! You don't have to listen to any of the vaguely seductive nonsense she's spewing to try and get to you. Hell, it's making me uncomfortable with how she's calling you her "pretty little bird".

Voice of the Hero: I guess it felt kind of cute at first when she said it, but now I think about it and just feel like - "no".

Voice of the Smitten: It is simply a cute nickname she has given us! Why must you all dismiss her attempts?

Voice of the Stubborn: It's humiliating and debilitating. I don't like being babied like this. It's like she sees us as nothing but a pet she could stuff into a cage.

Voice of the Smitten: If being in a cage is what it takes to make both of us happy, then we might aswell crawl to her!

Voice of the Hero: What?! No! Absolutely no! Just, no!

The Narrator: Oh my goodness this is actually going to go horribly wrong. Quick, pick a decision and do it now!

---CHOICE---

[Explore] "Hold on, this is going a bit too fast!" [go to: 160]

[Explore] "I'd rather have you come and rest with me instead." [go to: 161]

[Explore] [Make bird noises.] [go to: 162]

[Approach the Princess.] [go to: 164]

[Slay the Princess.] [go to: 170]

---

[170] --- The Narrator: You grip onto the blade, springing into a sprint forwards, your eyes locking with hers, as her face shifts from an inviting, seductive smile, into one of hysteria and anger.

The Princess: "Are you serious?!"

The Narrator: Before you can do so much as lunge yourself at her, she whips her chained arm around, hitting you right in the face with its thick, heavy, iron knots. You are sent onto the floor, your teeth barely clinging onto the gums of your mouth where she had hit you, and your jaw feeling fractured.

Voice of the Hero: Why?! Why does it have to hurt so bad every single time?!

Voice of the Stubborn: Pfft, who needs teeth? We have the blade, we have the claws, we have the hands and feet to do everything to finish the job! And now, we have a new reason to hit her back! And now, you lovesick freak, can see that she does not love us! This is how it should've gone sincethe beginning!

Voice of the Smitten: I don't believe you! I refuse to! There can still be a way to make things right! She said - she said she's forgiven us! We have to appeal to her heart!

The Narrator: That's going to be difficult with how little teeth you'll probably have left by the end.

The Princess: "You knew I wanted to leave! And you knew I wanted to leave with only you! It was all that I ever wanted, and it's still all that I want now! Why must you keep hurting me?! Why must you keep trying to fight?! Just be happy together with me, please!"

---CHOICE---

[Stand back up and keep fighting.] [go to: 172]

[Stand up and drop the blade.] [go to: 180]

[Stay on the ground and say nothing.] [go to: 190]

---

[172] --- The Narrator: But you don't let neither the pain nor her words get to you as you rise back up to you feet, pushing yourself up and standing in front of her. Your vision is hazed, however, the whip from the chain seemingly also having damaged one of your eyes.

The Princess: "You are forcing me to do this! I love you, you know I do! Just stop fighting me already and love me back!"

Voice of the Hero: That's hard to believe when we have a handful of teeth missing because of her.

Voice of the Smitten: She isn't lying! She loves us! I can feel it, you just have to let go of your skepticism and see her for who she is! Accept her!

The Narrator: But you push the thought of forgivness aside, raising the blade once more and jumping her. Your blade sinks deep into her shoulder, causing her to scream out in pain. But in return comes her fist, blowing your face away from her view and knocking you off of her. You feel your neck strain from the power of the impact.

The Princess: "I'll beat it into you if I have to!"

The Narrator: She then begins the humiliating process of whipping your back with her chain, each blow either dislocating or breaking a tiny piece of cartilige in your spine, unfathomable pain spreading across your back, leaving you not a single second to even register what is being done to you.

Voice of the Smitten: This is what you deserve! Our punishments weren't enough yet it seems. We'll learn to love her now!

Voice of the Stubborn: You say one more word from now on and I will break your neck.

The Narrator: The pain becomes too much for your mind to comprehend. You slip into a numb, mindless state of confusion, agony, and silence. You are unresponsive, but you are not dead. Blood pools onto the marble floor of the basement underneath you. Your spine is broken in so many places, it would be impossible to count all the fractured bits. The Princess grabs your unresponsive body, dragging you up the stairs you came down from, and taking you out through the cabin's door.

Voice of the Hero: How can she do that? She wasn't able to leave the cabin before.

Voice of the Stubborn: She needs us to escape, so she's parading our corpse around as her key to salvation.

The Narrator: The Princess steps outside the cabin, facing out into the wast emptiness before her ontop of the mountain before looking down at you.......

Voice of the Hero: ... Yeah?

Voice of the Smitten: He's gone. Quick, pull whatever strength we have left together and grab her hand! At least let us have this one final moment before we depart!

The Princess: "We could've left so easily together, see?! Why did you make me do this?! ... But, I suppose it doesn't matter now. I am finally outside, and with you. But I - I didn't want it to be like this. I love you still ... It's so cold without you, all the time ......"

[But you do not get the chance to take her hand, nor do you get the chance to respond. Something has taken her and left something in her place instead.]

[THE END - Ending 1/? : "An Abusive Relationship" - Challenge the strength of your love's desires.]

[Don't like this ending? Go back to previous choices and see what you find!]

---

[180] --- The Narrator: (Sigh) Damn it. As you stand back up, your grip loosens around the blade, the weapon dropping loudly onto the floor as you and the Princess lock eyes with eachother. Her face seems to show regret.

---

[190] --- The Narrator: The whiplash from both the heavy chain and your head hitting the ground seem to knock out your senses, making you plant your bleeding and bruised face onto the marble floor. It feels cooling, allowing you a moment of peace before you feel the Princess rip your blade out from your limp hand.

The Princess: "I just want us to be happy!"

The Narrator: She raises your blade, ready to strike.

Voice of the Stubborn: Roll already! Roll anywhere that isn't right beneath her!

The Princess: "NO!"

The Narrator: As she sees you trying to roll away, she grabs your arm and pins it down. You are now laying on your back. As you look up, you see her face, tears and ruined mascara flowing down her cheeks as she raises the blade above you.

Voice of the Hero: She doesn't behave like this normally. This is like how she was in the first cycle.

Voice of the Stubborn: I am just hoping her technique is as bad as back then. We might still have a chance at pushing through this then.

Voice of the Smitten: My love, look at what they made you do. I embrace whatever death you cast upon me. If it means I'll be able to see you on the other side, I'll wait for you forever.

---CHOICE---

[Give up and let her finish you off.] [go to: 200]

[Catch the blade with your hand.] [go to: 210]

[Reach out to her.] [go to: 300]

---

[melancholyguy]

I was never perfect like you thought I was :(

But please, if everything you said to me today you believe in the deepest part of your heart..

Do not become me.. or like me..

Stay the beautiful person you were.. stay the person who kept me on the right track with everything I was struggling with daily, I use to love when you asked if I had taken my medications and cared so deeply for me. Please don’t lose that in yourself you are the most sweetest & kindest human being I have ever met. You tried and you tried and you tried, the more clearer my mind is and the further back I read I see just how bad you missed me and how much it tore you apart.. so yes I AM to blame for all of this. I should have been better.. I should have been more understanding of your life situation and so much more patient.. you were and are worth the wait I was just to stupidly blind and selfish then.. I was more concerned about my own heart being crushed again and in the process of protecting myself, I crushed yours into pieces ..

You don’t need to answer any more questions from me I now know I’m the one who has turned you this cold and heartless. I’m so fucking sorry words can never even begin to explain how sorry !!!!! But I have to say it anyway even though my sorrys mean nothing to you now:(

I’m sitting here writing this thinking to myself if I could just build a Time Machine and go back in time I would change everything and maybe just maybe we would still be deeply in love..

But after today’s message from you I don’t know If I would if I could.. I had my chance with an absolute pure angel who gave me her all and all of her heart. And I messed it up.. I don’t trust myself one bit not to mess anything up ever again.. so I have no choice but to do you the nicest thing I have done in awhile now.. and just go forever without another word ..

I wish you the best in every single thing that you do, I just know you are going to be successful, you have the drive and the want to be and you will manifest that into reality.

I always admired your drive and focus, your ability to multi task life, job, and gaming while being so relyd upon in all of those areas, then when I came along you even managed to make time for me so much, we would talk literally the whole day about anything and everything, solve every issue together it was the best time of my life and the most personal growth I’ve ever gone through in what was relatively a short span of time. There are more things I love about you then there are stars in the sky so I won’t carry on and carry on about every little thing here.

But just know you were the closest thing any person in this world could ever come to being perfect. And all though you have nothing but disgust, anger, and resentment towards me for the time we spent together now.. for me I will cherish it forever, you will always be my first love at first sight you will be my first true love and my last love. (Not just an obsession like you said) when you said that it felt to me like you were saying you never loved me and it was all in my head the whole time. And if that’s really true then I’m far more crazy then I ever thought lol anyway, here I go dribbling on again .. back to the point!

I’m forever grateful for having you in my life while I did, you taught me a lot of things and opened my mind up to so much more, you helped me become more positive (all though right now I’m in a dark dark place in my head) you showed me what no other person in my life ever has, unconditional love and for that I will always be grateful always cherish it and hopefully I learn from all this.

My feelings for you will never ever change I love you for you through and through. And if you ever find it in your heart I broke so badly to forgive me.. I will be here, I will always be here

If you didn’t delete my number or every possible way of contacting me like I kinda think you have now, then you will always be able to find me and I will always welcome you back 2infinity&beyond my no longer mine.

Be good.. and get that drift car ..

I love you..

The moment you understand and can answer that question as to why they hurt you, you become them.

[hotchnerwrites]

hi i have a really weird request i was hoping you’d fulfill :) i read your request guidelines and it says you write for spencer reid but it looks like you write majority hotch fics, which i also enjoy:) i have hoping for a spencer reid x reader fic, i don’t have much of a plot in mind so you may need to get creative, or maybe it could just be headcanons, but anything with a weird reader. like maybe she’s an elementary art teacher type vibe (maybe she’s actually an art teacher, or maybe she works at the BAU, your choice) and she has pet bugs and wears cool clothes, that sort of thing. everyone always writes the reader to be really type a, really similar to spencer, yk? and as much as i love those fics i personally think he’d work well with a little more carefree, creative type person too. thank you so much and you absolutely do not have to write this if you don’t want too!!

Ladybird 🐞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, headcanons kinda, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of (y/n), fluff

A/N: Hi anon! so glad you enjoyed my other fics! I'm so happy you requested Spencer, i've been itching to write my pookie but it's not a common request (yet?), i only have one other published fic of him. i looooooooooove writing his big brain self and ur idea of reader being an opposite personality type was so delicious to write ugh i'm quite happy with this fic. i also have some drafts of him (academic rivals, fluff fics etc.) but i don't post them bc im not at a 100% with them, they're much longer fics too lol. if you want those, i'm happy to post (slowly) so lmk. anyways, enough yapping, ENJOY THE READ!!! mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open! Please read my rules before req'ing. Send me stuff! :)

Spencer wasn’t accustomed to the sensation of being in the dark. If something new crossed his path, he’d devour every piece of information he could find, understanding it, processing it, then neatly filing it away in his mind for later use. The idea of being uncertain—it made him uneasy, like a puzzle with a missing piece, gnawing at him until he could fill it in. He hated the discomfort of not knowing.

But you… what were you?

You moved through life with a kind of fluidity he couldn’t quite grasp. Were you like water? No, no, you were too solid, too grounded for that. Fire, then? But you weren’t wild or destructive—your warmth didn’t burn Spencer, it invited him in. The wind, then. You were untethered and free. But even that didn’t feel quite right. The wind didn’t create, and you were full of creation. You existed in a plane ruled by feeling rather than logic, instinct over calculation.

Spencer couldn’t fathom you.

He prided himself on his ability to categorise things, to turn life into binary or categorical data. But you slipped like butter through his mental filing system, like something he could never quantify. You smelled like rain and cedar, like something both fresh and familiar, like petrichor clinging to the edges of an old wooden frame. He couldn’t place it, couldn’t place you, and maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

When you talked about your job— you were an elementary school art teacher— you talked about it with a kind of excitement that made Spencer envious. It was silly, really, but he wanted the one to be taught by you, to spend more time trying to figure you out. He loved his work, too, but it was so full of danger and death, and the way you loved yours made him want to be a part of the world you had.

The first time he met you, Spencer spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to decipher the colours in your outfit. He knew different textures weren’t supposed to be mixed (the Vogue magazine he had swiped at the doctor’s office had declared the mixing of dots and stripes a cardinal sin), but you had layered patterns like a painting. It shouldn’t have made sense. So why did it? He had opened his mouth to ask if there had been a method behind it, but you had flashed a smile at him that made his unfaltering mind stop dead in its tracks, and you had said, “Don’t overthink it, Spence. Just feel.”

As if it was something he knew how to do.

You weren’t chaotic, not exactly—but you were unpredictable. Spencer, with his equations and calculations, with his logic and probabilities, had always sought comfort in knowing the outcome before things even began. But you—you weren’t an equation. You were the space between the numbers, the part of the formula he couldn’t solve. You were a walking, talking example of Ramsey’s theorem— he knew where you started and where you ended, but he couldn’t untangle what was in between.

Every morning, you took a picture of your coffee. It was the same drink every day, but you persevered, swearing the foam made a new image every time. You’d tried to rope him into theorising with you, to get him to see the shape of the world in the swirls and patterns of the cream, but Spencer could never really see it like you. 

“You know it’s just milk and coffee, right?” He’d say, leaning over your shoulder to examine the mug. “There’s no scientific basis for anything more.” 

But you never held it against him. Sometimes, you’d nudge him with your elbow, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you said, “I think you’re missing out on a whole new dimension of the universe, Reid.”

He’d hum, a little smile on his lips, and then he’d drop the subject—mostly. He wasn’t one to argue for long, especially when it came to the things that made you happy, like the ritual of your morning coffee or the way you’d rearrange your art supplies by colour, even though it made absolutely no sense.

When Spencer found out you kept bugs as pets, he’d nearly leapt out of his chair.

“You— you have a mantis,” he stammered, eyes wide as he watched you let it crawl delicately over your fingers.

“That’s not just a mantis, Spence,” you scolded him gently, a smile tugging at your lips, “Meet Matilda. She’s my friend.”

Spencer blinked, processing. “Statistically, most people keep a cat or a dog—“

“I’m not a statistic, Spence,” you’d reminded him, voice gentle as if you were talking to one of your school kids.

He tried to understand, tried to decipher why anyone would choose to keep an insect as a pet, but logic evaded him, a feeling he only experienced around you. But when he’d watch you play with Matilda like she was the best thing in the world, he let it go.

He started bringing you little things—odds and ends that made him think of you. A book of surrealist paintings he thought you’d like. A smooth, speckled rock he found outside the precinct. A jar of local honey from a case in a small town, because you once mentioned you liked the taste of dandelions.

And every time, you’d accept them like he had just handed you a moonbeam, eyes lighting up in unadulterated joy.

“See?” you had murmured one day, holding the honey jar up to the light. “You do feel things, Spencer. You just don’t realise it.”

No, it wasn’t about logic. Maybe, it was just about you.

One day, Spencer caught himself carefully placing a ladybug outside on a leaf, rather than brushing it away. As he counted its spots for you— something about them bringing luck— he realised something.

Oh.

I love her.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune