Getting violent with you 💉💉💉

(Remade Spanish version chat in ag)

TEDDY URIS is a tall and lean, with dark curls that always looked like he’d run a hand through them one too many times. His sharp brown eyes missed nothing; he was the type of boy who could stay silent for an hour and still somehow be the most intense person in the room. He dressed simply—shirts slightly wrinkled, jeans a little too worn—giving off that mysterious “lives inside his own thoughts” energy.

Raised in a painfully strict Jewish household, never missing a single Shabbat service, never skipping synagogue even when the snow came down like torn parchment from the sky, Teddy carried a constant, quiet pressure behind his eyes. Tradition was not something suggested in his home. It was stitched into the walls. The candles were lit at the exact minute. The prayers were recited without a syllable wandering off course. Holidays were not vacations but sacred appointments with history.His family was the opposite of quiet about it. They were loud, unwavering, so devoted they would probably walk to synagogue through a hurricane just to prove that faith did not bend. Every rule was guarded like treasure. Every misstep felt enormous.Teddy learned early how to fold himself small between expectations. He memorized blessings before he understood their meaning. He wore obedience like a neatly pressed jacket. And still, behind his careful nods and whispered “amen,” there lived that steady weight. Not rebellion. Not doubt exactly. Just pressure. Like he was holding up something very old and very sacred, terrified of being the one who might let it slip.