#had to lock in for this one bc i don't even know

[nousporix]

( — from , @wollycobbl3-blr / @.facetedsin-wav )

i cant lie, i was writing a whole ass bulleted summary of the bnd!phainon fic in my reblog tags in the middle of class, but i. was doing it on phone. so when i came back to it like 3-5hrs later, it was gone. my grief is immeasurable and my fury is a force to be reckoned with /j. i took the time to mourn bc it got so stupidly detailed, BUT lets do this aita reddit post style, laced with every single thing in the world (notes: educ system is based on my country's)

—————

hey reddit, aita if im freaking the fuck abt how im pining on my childhood friend who's really sweet but also insanely hot? like am i crazy for this out-of-my-league guy that ive liked for yrs + yearned for + missed when he doesn't even know that i was the person in his life back then

i (>20, gn) have this friend from when i was in kinder, lets call him sunshine (>20, m), and we are like. we are like 🤞🤞 we're like that. he married me and had his dog as the officiator when we were in first grade. we have matching plushies and jokingly call/ed them our children—we gifted them to each other during christmas of 2016 or something. we have basically been together for a while.

sounds really cute, right? but here's the catch ☝️ he had to move away 5-6yrs ago. to vaguely phrase it in case he's somehow on this site, a thing happened in the area that he lived in. sunshine has to move somewhere else completely and switch schools. he was SO upset that his mother delayed their trip for a day just so he could hang out w me one last time. and yk who went an insanely early morning walk with him, where they both just ended up crying and bullying each other for how dumb we looked.. just for them to also walk him back to the station where he was due to get on that train and leave??? ME. i cannot begin to tell you how much i ugly cried AFTER. istg i was dehydrated for days.. pmo + my parents essentially called me bitchmade for crying over a guy but OKAY. WHATEVER. AT LEAST YOU'RE MARRIED. but wait!! there's more!! of course there's more!!

so those 5-6yrs pass and i'm personally doing fine. ive moved on to some degree, I Miss Him So Bad but i don't let that root me to the ground and instead let it motivate me in the background, amongst every other new thing that popped into my life 😍 i move forward, (move away from home so i can) move up from senior high's fuckass but rlly memorable and fun humanities strand, and i GET INTO COLLEGE. I FUCKING WIN. I'M DOING GREAT. regrettably admit that i started go lock in too hard and sorta laser focused on the present at some point tho. sunshine is barely on my mind because i have 10000 essays to submit and a bunch of drama that i talk abt with my friends in stem. horribly single also, but this is extremely important, so i apologize in advance

do note that i barely look anything like 13(?) yr old me. im arguably way cooler and i have piercings and i stressed dyed my hair (insert color) once. i used to dress in cutesy cartoon merch, now i just wear whatever is comfortable AND easy on the eyes, because suffering for fashion is overrated. you get the gist; im not who i was before

anyway, college, right? ive been in this cool neighborhood that's a 15-20min walk from the campus for the entirety of senior high, and id soon start for college there.. everybody is really nice, we're all buddies and i like to help out whenever i can. why not, am i right? it's courtesy and it's polite wnd it's friendly and its DEMURE.

and i hear news that there's this new guy that moves into the area, who's a new student AT that same school; im like, "cool! amazing!" and immediately want to get friendly. say hi, maybe help with boxes, or give him a housewarming gift, all that stuff. i'll paint a picture for you: very quaint house, 3:56pm in the afternoon, i'm bringing him some cut up fruits and iced tea (in case he's not a coffee guy), because jesus CHRIST the sun was hotter than my daily login streak on my games. i ring the doorbell, i hear barking and someone going down the stairs, and i'm like. "okay, [name], same aged neighbor! don't fuck it up!"

so take a wild fucking guess as to who my neighbor is 😁

LO AND BEHOLD, SUNSHINE IS IN MY FACE. SMILING WITH HIS FLUFFY SAMOYED PUPPY AT HIS FEET. how do i know that its him? his hair and eyes are very.. he sticks out like a sore thumb, let's just say that, and i know them ANYWHERE. and you know what's worse? HIS GLOW UP WAS INSANE. not that he didn't look great before, he was literally such a cutie that i wanted to bite his head off sometimes from sheer cuteness aggression alone, but MY GOD. he was so unnecessarily pretty and tall and he's broad as hell, like?? i swear i forgot my name for a minute bc he was like "earth to neighbor? :(" HIS VOICE IS SLSO. SORRY. HE'S JUST SO 👹👹👹👹👹 YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND.

i did actually forget to tell him my name (i was Very Distracted), but he was so sweet and friendly, almost exactly how i remembered him to be when we were dumb highschoolers, just multiplied by a lot. like, it feels like a puppy was taking care of a puppy, ygwim? that aside, he's just so :(( everything about him was just so.

here's the thing though... he doesn't remember me, i don't think. like, my name isn't UNCOMMON by any means, so you'd think "man, this is probably a different [name], there's a few [names] out there" if you knew someone by that name, and i told you that it was. my name.

not only that, but like i mentioned before, im unrecognizable as hell, a far cry from the kid i was back then. not just in terms of appearance, but personality as well; kid me was cheery, loved doing anything involving going outside or hanging out with friends, and like... generally, they were just absurdly happy. now im arguably more mellowed out, i go to the library for fun, im Lowkey Tired of This, etcetera. would anybody even recognize that?

im probably js overreacting and he moved ahead like i did, but it kinda STINGS, u have to understand. your best friend forever wnd ever doesn't recognize you at all, and likely believes that you're just his really nice next-door neighbor that brings him fruits and iced drinks for your study sessions (we're in the same department but diff courses). he even talks about stuff you did in the past and not wanting to make things awkward, you nod along like "yyyeeeaaaaahhh sounds cute" like he didn't do that with YOU. ME. ive been keeping it to myself for a while, but its only been a few months, and im abt to crash tf out. idk what to do.

like, do i tell him that i was that friend and get back what we had, or shld his memories of me be separate from... the present me? aita for this shit

WAIT THIS FORMAT IS SO FUCKING UNIQUE? I'VE LEGIT NEVER SEEN THIS BEFORE, I FUCKING LOVE THIS. BRO YOU COULD SEGUE INTO A NORMAL FIC FORMAT RSGGHHHAHS

okay but fr. fr fr this is the start of something so fucking angsty and beautiful. bc what if phainon recognizes you immediately, but he thinks the same thing because he doesn't want to overwhelm you with his intense feelings and longing. ORRRR what if you drop hints and he still doesn't recognize you, so you ignore him and then he finds out by chance and and he feels awful so he does whatever he can to make it up to you and falls in love with you all over again and andnskndsjsn?!?@*@*$

BND!PHAINON YOU'RE SO FUCKING HOT KISS ME RN ACTUALLYLGKDKKDD I NEED HIM SO BAD BRO PLEALSLEELE YOU GOT ME ACTIVATED RN

[inkpotsprite]

I'd be fascinated to know why you think Robin War is as bad as war games?

Alright, this is gonna be a long answer so buckle up.

I hate Robin War mostly because Tom King treats Duke and the other WAR kids horribly. He has the "real" Robin's put them down constantly, both verbally and physically and considering WAR is mostly made up of Black and brown kids just wanting to help while the "main Robin's" are mostly white...yeah, the optics look pretty bad.

They are constantly talked down to by the "main four" and while the WAR kids are still interesting and compelling, they seem...off compared to how they were in We Are Robin, watered down and even passive at times, all to show off how great Damian, Tim and the rest of the ones we know are.

Also the scene where the kids are all locked up in jail and Duke tells them to comply with the police (bc we all know what police are like with people of colour) only for Damian to sneer and call him a coward. And it's never addressed later, which gives the vibe that Tom King thinks that was a cool moment for Damian rather than a show of ignorance.

Plus the need Tom King had to rub in the fact that none of these kids were Robin or ever could be just didn't sit right, especially when we'd seen how good the WAR kids are in action in their own comic.

And making Duke the "leader" of the WAR movement showed that Tom King probably didn't even read We Are Robin properly, or skimmed it at best, because Duke is certainly not the leader. Half the point to We Are Robin is that there is no leader.

Though it is a little better than War Games, solely because we don't have any creepy torture scenes involving minors 👌🏾

[dailykafka]

— September, 1920 / Letters to Milena

[talentforlying]

♠ — IF YOU WERE A DEITY, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR DOMAIN?

WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE. you are the divine guardian of truths both knowable and unknowable, of all words and languages spoken and unspoken. much like Death itself, you are perhaps one of the least understood of all deities, and yet the secrets you hold are highly sought after by scientists, philosophers, and theologians alike.

the origin of all innovation, your realm is the source of crucial advances in architecture, agriculture, political governance, and military strategy which have allowed many civilizations to become a dominant force in the mortal realm. your domain may also include the forces of magic and mysticism, and many cautionary tales exist among mortals of those who have unwittingly destroyed themselves or lost their minds in the reckless pursuit of mysteries and technology far beyond their comprehension.

your mythological equivalents are greece’s athena, egypt’s thoth, mesopotamia’s enki, and india’s ganesha.

tagged by: @eladead thank you!! tagging: @asteritm, @n1cap, @normaltothemax (any muse), @agentharkness, @demidritch, @whcwashe, @compatiissante, @devilscheck, @h3xappeal + @1carri0n (any muse), @outlawiism, @handgiven (any muse), and you!

[nexus-nebulae]

"why are you so worried abt random accidents, stuff like that rarely ever happens" well you see I'm too disabled to ever evacuate a situation on my own, so I'd rather be a safety advocate now than become a statistic later

[sage-nebula]

So I have only seen episode 90 so far (since subs aren't yet out for 91 and probably won't be until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest I'd wager), but I have to say . . . no offense to his fans, no offense to whoever decided to include him in this show for whatever reason, but . . .

. . . Uruto is mega-fucking-annoying.

[repotting]

people who don't normally read sci fi have such bad taste in sci fi 😭

[ranvwoop]

i try to avoid my acc being Just vntposting . in this world. but man is it going

[proveagain]

getting some rambly thoughts out now before the next part drops in a couple hours but i am REALLY hoping that we get more reasoning behind miguel's frustration abt not making captain / the 'you're blowing the opportunity of a lifetime' line from the trailer than just miguel wanting to get into stanford. like yes, he's said in past seasons that he's had his sights there for a while, but i really hope the reasoning to go is more than just 'i need to go or my future's fucked >:(' because he's already had really good advice given to him abt that from daniel in season 4 (the one in the auto shop where he talks about what you want sometimes needing a longer road / the circular path). he had the arc in s4 that revolves around taking that path and saw how daniel was able to make it without the 4 year university track that high school pushes so much.

i CAN see this reaction and this intensity from him finally feeling fully in control of something since s3/4, rooting back to the recovery arc and how quickly things were changing around him in s4 right before the tournament. stanford is the One Thing he's picked for himself and he wants it to work out really bad, and instead of a solid yes / no it's up in the air, just like everything else for the longest time. the decision is out of his control, and losing the captains' qualifying match to robby just solidified that lack of control. i can see that annoyance of having to constantly adapt coming into play, sitting on the sidelines watching robby get beat by dojos that have probably had way more training than miyagi-do. would he get beat by kwon and the others? maybe. but it's that maybe that's driving him up the wall. will he be able to recover? maybe. will the new family dynamic work out? maybe. will his biological dad want to be in his life? maybe. (he didn't fully figure that one out but after seeing his true colors he doesn't want to) will they win the sekai taikai? maybe. will he get into stanford? maybe!

with how crowded the plots are this season with all 3 gens of characters having their plot points and even MORE characters to introduce in the taikai tonight, i don't have high hopes for them developing miguel's frustration more than surface-level 'but i deserve it more than you' type shit but... a girl can dream

[strryhaze]

they are so rarely talked about in the kennedyfandom of it all but oh do i love them

Caroline Kennedy running into her mothers arms.

[aquarianlights]

Bunny. Bunbun. Tawns.

If you're out there & still follow my blog... if you see this... please message me *somewhere* (even here is fine). I only just now logged onto discord after years & saw all your messages & that's not at all what happened. I don't know where to look for you anymore. I never did know. You never had much of a visible presence like me. Please message me or get in touch somehow. Please. My discord is the same. Phone number is the same. Fb name is different. Um. Idk. Please please please just message me. Contact me. Somehow. Anything. I'm so sorry. I hope you see this. Idk if you will, but idk how else to reach out to you. It has worked in the past so maybe it will work now.

[keeps-ache]

need everybody to stop posting so i can get my thing done rn

[astrxealis]

i love asking me friends for small things wow... got da inquisition Finally bcs #Sale but was wondering who to romance. my friend pointed at my two other choices and said "hah no. government" (??) and then said yes to sera LMFAOOO <333

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[shrimsour]

ALAS IT IS HERE, MY PLAYABLE 2X2 CONCEPT

🦜 Design and lore

Basically this is a timeline of my 1x headcanon where he got sealed in a limbo bc of admins and met 2x whose been confined to the mindscape ever since he got corrupted. Glitch family ensues (the dynamic is still the same from my last post)

But then something different happens than in the original ending where 2x gets deleted by the Spectre, they are merely wounded and left alone in the mindscape. 2x finds a way to escape and falls into the Forsaken realm. Sheneginans ensue

Lots of cool art and trivia under cut ⬇️

🦜 Their sword is larger than them and EXTREMELY HEAVY. Due to being young they cant handle it very well. During rounds Spectre takes away their flight wings which completely throws off their balance, it's why they can't stun. It's also just heavy as fuck its like Thor's mjolnir, only they can pick it up

🦜 They are the second survivor to smile all the time except its not creepy! (Looking at Two time) they have a very heroic attitude and will to help and save people. Sometimes the braveness is their biggest detriment (weakest out of all the survivors health wise)

🦜 Bonded with 07 due to being in a similiar situation (his dad wants to kill him instead)and also just likes to imagine what would his life been like had he had a normal affectionate father

🦜 Besties with Guest, he's like her cool military uncle PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA PARRY DUO PROPAGANDA

🦜 Fishing skin by my friend Fungerfan69. Loves to fish! They've been locked away in the mindscape for so long they forgot how real grass feels. They're just a very happy boye who loves nature.

🦜 Is actually quite authorative in the cabin, likes to take charge and people just listen because it's so hard to deny their puppy eyes

🦜 Their kit actually synergizes gameplay wise with Taph and Dussekar, they really boost their relevance. Man I wish 2x2 was real

🦜 1x (pre forsaken) was actually very protective of 2x, he didn't know how to be affectionate and wouldn't even admit to loving them, due to his nature of being pure hatred. But that kindness has always stuck with 2x. Unlike Telamon, 1x gently guided his swordsmanship, strict but motivating, always giving a helping hand to stand. Nowdays after rounds with 1x, someone has to stay with them to console them, sometimes everyone gathers and they watch disney movies while 2x falls asleep between cushions.

🦜 There's a lot of bad blood between Shedletsky and 2x. On one hand 2x can recognize that Shedletsky is basically a stranger but thats also what pisses them off so much. He's everything they wanted from their father - Telamon, this is what he could've been, they just weren't worth changing for ig. And they're also 11 years old and don't have many coping mechanisms, they're just angry and bitter. This guy who bears the face of a man who cursed them with all his hatred, abandoned them, never truly loved them it felt like. How can they not be uncomfortable?

[yuramour]

ADORE YOU — F1 GRID

synopsis. the grid as dads pairing. f1 grid x reader (ft. mv1, yt22, ln4, op81, gr63, cl16, lh44, dr3, aa23, cs55, ih6, jd7) genre. fluff warnings. idk?? established relationships, mentions of like, having kids?? duh?? wc. 1.8k (150-ish each)

a/n. im ovulating. that's all. also, i wrote max's before he had his baby, so like, absolutely called it. (yes, this has been in my drafts for over a month now.)

MAX VERSTAPPEN

♥︎ girl dad

feels so incredibly obvious, but that's because it's so incredibly true. this man would treat his daughter like an absolute PRINCESS. putting aside the fact that max is an amazing bonus dad for his girl, he just like, exudes girl dad energy. i honestly have a hard time explaining it, but like, trust. omfg he would buy his baby girl literally anything she wants- just one look and he's MELTING and doing whatever she wants. overall, he'd actually be a pretty level-headed dad, especially as his daughter gets older. like, he has good clear boundaries and rules, but still respects her as an individual. would he threaten any future potential boyfriends? no. he doesn't need to. he's literally max verstappen. that's intimidating enough. so yeah, overall, he'd just be a fantastic dad, and he'd have such a great relationship with his little girl. and that's the tea. i love him.

YUKI TSUNODA

♥︎ both

yuki strikes me as the type to not really want kids until he's older. like, he's dedicated to his career until the day he decides he wants kids, and then he's all in on the dad thing. this man does NOT play about family vacations- like, he's got the full itinerary, waking the kids up at 5am to go to the airport for the flight that doesn't even board until 10am, fanny pack, yelling at everyone to put on sunscreen every five minutes. like, he's got that shit on lock. i don't think he cares much about how many kids he ends up having- he just loves being a dad. and trust, he does not play about his babies, he will throw DOWN for them. even as his kids grow up and move out, he is available to them 24/7. he is dropping everything to be there when they need him.

LANDO NORRIS

♥︎ girl dad

someone hold me back. this man is SO girl dad istg. now don't get me wrong, lando would be happy just to have kids- i'm sure we've all seen the numerous videos of him with babies and little kids and he's just absolutely cheesing in all of them. like, this man just loves kids. but he would absolutely LOVE to have a baby girl. i am so so convinced. he is does NOT play about his baby girl. tea parties, playing dress-up, watching every single barbie movie back to back- he's just happy to be there. he absolutely eats up a princess tiara. lets his baby girl do his makeup and all- tells her that she made him look beautiful every time (even if he looks like a literal clown, his girl can do no wrong in his mind). is he a bit of a pushover? yeahhhhh. is it a bit of a problem when he physically cannot say no to his baby girl? yeahhh sometimes. but at the end of the day, lando is just so full of love, he would do literally anything and everything for his kid.

OSCAR PIASTRI

♥︎ boy dad

GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD dont get me started on this one. i'm literally in shambles right now. oscar's nonchalant personality is GONE. vanished the second he holds his baby for the first time. he is just so proud to be a father, and his baby boy is the absolute light of his life. he starts every single post-race interview saying "hi" to his baby at home because he knows he's always watching. UGHHGHGHDGHFGDHDGHDGDHG im dead. he likes to keep his private life private of course, so he doesn't typically talk about his kids in interviews, but whenever anyone asks, he can't help but gush about them a little bit</3 dont get me wrong- oscar would be a great girl dad, but he just like, exudes boy dad energy. TRUST he would raise the sweetest, kindest, most generous little boy ever. im gonna STOP right now bc my brain cant handle this. but you get the vibes.

CHARLES LECLERC

♥︎ girl dad

we all saw this coming COME ON NOW. GIRL DAD TO THE EXTREME. that baby girl will never have to want for everything in her entire life. charles already has it all covered. he plans the most elaborate nursery for that baby and has it all set up months before she's even born- he's just so excited. teaches her how to play piano as soon as she's old enough oml. and when she's old enough to go to school and go out with friends, he doesn't hesitate to put his card in her mobile wallet- she could literally buy a whole car with his card and he'd be like "yes, what a sensible purchase. you definitely needed that 🥰" TOTAL pushover and he doesn't even realize it. if you insinuate that he might need to put his foot down a little bit, he is absolutely AGHAST. whatever his baby wants, his baby gets. of course, he's such a sweet man, he raises a sweet, sensible, kind girl. just a liiiiiittle bit spoiled.

LEWIS HAMILTON

♥︎ both

he would just be so happy to be a dad in the first place, he would not gaf if it was a girl or a boy. genuinely, he's the most balanced out of all of the drivers. he brings up his baby anytime he gets the opportunity. even if the conversation is not at all related to kids- if he gets the chance to relate the topic to his kids or being a dad, he will. like, he brings up his babies in EVERY interview. he definitely tones it down after a while, but he's just so elated to be a dad, it still slips out sometimes. again, he doesn't care about whether his baby is a boy or a girl- he just wants to raise a responsible, kind, empathetic person. and even though he talks about his kids basically nonstop, that doesn't mean he'll really want them in the private eye. i think having kids would give lewis more incentive to keep his private life PRIVATE. like, people probably wouldnt even know what his kids look like until theyre a couple years old at least.

DANIEL RICCIARDO

♥︎ TWINS

daniel can't live without chaos in his life. twins are just inevitable. we've seen how chaotic daniel is as an uncle, and being a dad is pretty much the same. he's just a little more careful. having boy/girl twins, daniel treats them the exact same. takes them dirt biking, hiking, sand duning, lake swimming- everything. his twins become his little travel buddies. he's usually the silly goofy fun dad, but TRUST he can be serious and scary when he wants to. like, he will throw DOWNNNN for his kids if he needs to. no other thoughts. just dadiel.

GEORGE RUSSELL

♥︎ girl dad

its that one picture of george in an eras tour shirt with his hands on his hips like an absolute diva that just SCREAMS girl dad. like, he will do ALL the "girly" things with his daughter. he lets her paint his nails, plays barbies with her, watches her shows with her, etc. every day is a constant diva-off between him and his daughter, bc TRUST he's raising her like a literal princess. like, that child is never going to have to work for anything ever. like, lando is nothing but a butler to his baby, but george and his kid are in a constant battle for princess status. two icons, truly.

ALEX ALBON

♥︎ boy dad

pure chaos in that home. never a moment of silence. play fighting, playing baseball in the living room, 1v1's on Halo on the tv, fridge full of bug juice and costco pallets of stain remover in the laundry room. alex fully embraces being a boy dad the second his kid is born. that house is going to be LOUD and ROWDY. but don't get me wrong, that boy is going to be KIND and RESPECTFUL. alex may be the fun goofy dad, but he is going to instill good values into that boy. breakfast in bed for mom every sunday, learning how to cook, learning how to clean- that is going to be a well-rounded, emotionally intelligent kid. bless up.

CARLOS SAINZ

♥︎ girl dad

literally the most perfect dad in the world do not play w me right now. does he treat his daughter like a literal princess? yes ofc. but he is going to make sure that she is respectful, patient, and kind. if she's gonna be anything, she will not be spoiled. i see carlos after becoming a dad keeping his life as private as he physically can. like, he'd want his kid to live as normal a life as possible. but oml going back to the like, girl dad thing, carlos is the most gentle patient dad in the entire world. like, every disagreement/argument is handled in the most mature gentle way possible. every mistake is turned into a lesson instead of a punishment. like, literally the ideal dad. istg im gonna melt right here right now. love that guy. he's the type of dad where his kids are never uncomfortable coming to him about any problem they're having. im gonna stop right here before this gets too long oml

ISACK HADJAR

♥︎ girl dad

(i have a drabble about young dad!isack cooking in my drafts, i just need to get this out before my brain explodes) when his baby is first born, (and well before), he is NERVOUS and SCARED. like, tf does he know about being a dad??? poor guy is hesitant to even hold his daughter for the first time bc he's scared his arms are gonna give out for some reason and he'll drop her. though he gets into the groove of being a dad pretty quick. like, the way he goes from scared boy to peak DAD™ so quick needs to be studied. the type of dad to offer to carpool for his daughters soccer games, bringing all the best snacks and drinks for practice. takes pride in the fact that his home becomes The Hangout House™ for his daughter and her friends. he's just the type of dad to practically adopt his kids friends and treat them like his own.

JACK DOOHAN

♥︎ boy dad

the type of dad who basically just becomes best friends with his kid. like, they just hang out with each other. he takes his kid to hang out with his hangouts (i can just imagine young dad!jack taking his son surfing with his friends and being the only dad but all his friends treat his son like a little member of the friend group im crying). anyways, sometimes he may be a little bit too chill and fun. like, he may have a hard time setting boundaries with his kid bc they're just so chill w each other💔 like, he may struggle a bit for a while especially as his kid gets older, but i think the older he gets, the more dad-ly he becomes.

taglist: @revelauver @bear-yawns