In the pages of fiction, I find a truth more tender than reality.
☕ I am drawn to green flag love — the quiet steadiness of care, the safety of shared silences, the devotion tucked into daily rituals.
⚠️ I understand red flag love — the kind that hurts as it holds, that pushes you away just to see if you’ll stay.
⚔️ I romanticize black flag love — dangerous, possessive, and raw, where obsession is both the poison and the cure.
✨ And I still believe in gold flag love — the rare, unwavering kind that chooses you over and over, even when everything else falls apart.

My heart lives in every genre:
— In omegaverse worlds where instinct and vulnerability collide.
— In historical landscapes where longing spans lifetimes.
— In domestic comforts, where love is found in the smallest, coziest gestures.
— In psychological spirals, where pain is transformed into something beautiful.

I do not seek perfect love —
I seek love that endures, love that transforms,
love that scars and softens at once.

Fiction is where I ache,
where I heal,
where I feel most seen.

And in every story, I search for one thing:
the kind of love that ruins you beautifully.

— beeluv ♡
☕ green for softness | ⚠️ red for ache | ⚔️ black for chaos | ✨ gold for forever