#groundhog day au

[starker-sorbet]

It started as a day like any other for Tony Stark. Deal with the board and any pesky meeting before heading over to R&D to talk and joke around with his people, making sure to spend a bit longer with the new hire Peter in the desperate hope the other will see his interactions as the flirting it was, then spending the rest of the day back to his personal lab until he goes to sleep. That was until he woke up the next day and found the meeting gave him a distinct feeling of déjà vu, not that this meant much as Tony never really liked paying attention at these things as the board members were annoying and JARVIS provided a much more succinct overview of the points made afterwards. But it wasn't until he went to R&D and saw the same projects being worked on without any of yesterdays progress that he realised something odd was going on. Something had reset Tony's day. And it was resetting his days over and over again. It was only after several repeated days of tearing his hair out trying to solve what was happening to him that Tony finally decided to tell someone else. He called Peter to one side and told all. It took a few more goes to memorise all his possible reactions so as to finally convince the younger man but he did it. The pair didn't make much progress (none really) until on the final day Peter saw how exhausted his boss was and took him to a quiet bar to relax in what it felt to Tony was years. It was as they got slowly buzzed from the alcohol that Tony threw caution to the wind and confessed his felling to Peter. He was going to remember it after all. That was when the biggest surprise he could have gotten happened. Peter had a crush on Tony too. Soon the pair found themselves making out in the elevator to Tony's room before falling onto Tony's bed. Not that anything happened between them. The long term stress and recent relief regarding his feelings had tired Tony out more than he already was while Peter had drunk decidedly more than he should have and the couple were soon asleep in each others arms. All too soon Tony found himself once more woken by the incessant beeping of his alarm. This time however he also hear someone else next to him moaning and telling him to turn the damn alarm off.

#starker #groundhog day au #a-z challenge #g #ceo tony #employee peter #getting together #moodboard #my moodboard

[miryum]

Sweetheart- Chapter 1

Summary: Jason Todd finds himself in a Groundhog Day situation and it won't stop until he finds his soulmate who's going through the exact same situation. But will you two stop being idiots long enough to too see what's in front of you? Not even the author knows...

Reader and Jason Todd have to repeat the same day until they realise they're soulmates, but once they do so, a soulmate mark will appear and their lives continue

Disclaimer: I know very little of the DC Universe (having never watched/read any of the movies/comics...) so please feel free to correct me on shit, but again, I took liberties with the ages and jobs (like, I know the majority of the Wayne kids aren't high school age and Bruce would never hand his job off, but I will stab canon until the pages of this fanfic run red with its blood)

ao3 link

Principal Gordon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What is it now, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. Mr. Queen just doesn’t like me.”

“Or is it that you were being disruptive in his class and harassing Ms. L/n?” Principal Gordon raised a brow.

Jason chuckled and crossed his arms. “Harassing her? I wouldn’t call it harassing. Just some harmless flirting.”

“Mr. Queen said you were throwing crumpled pieces of paper at her that had inappropriate pick-up lines written on them,” Principal Gordon said. “You also disturbed Mr. Allen and Ms. Grace?”

“Bart and Artemis are exaggerating,” Jason’s leather jacket hung around him and he shoved his hands in the pockets. “Just some friendly banter. They’re too eager to rat me out. I would take their words with a grain of salt.”

Principal Gordon rubbed his eyes. He was counting down the days until Jason either graduated or dropped out- whichever came first. “Mr. Todd, this has been the… what? Fourth time you’ve been in my office this semester?”

“Fifth, if you count the day you were out sick and Mr. James had to deal with me,” Jason added. Principal Gordon hummed and nodded in agreement.

“You’re a good kid and you know how I know that?”

“‘Cause of my dad and my brothers and sister?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“No,” Principal Gordon shook his head and he softly smiled. “Because of your grades,” he pushed Jason’s transcript towards the boy. It showed near-perfect marks. “And because of your behaviour- excluding things like this.” Jason looked down at the floor and scuffed his shoe on the tile. “It’s not just Mr. Wayne who’s convinced you’re a good kid. It’s Mr. Kent and Ms. Prince, too. You help your siblings and are extremely protective of them. You have compassion and loyalty, Jason. You simply exhibit them in different ways.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks, Gordon.” Jason stood and avoided the principal’s stare. “Now, if you don’t mind, the bell’s about to ring and I don’t wanna miss any more education than I need to. You know me- need to fill up this big brain with as much information as I can!”

Principal Gordon huffed, his moustache twitching, but waved him away. Jason grinned, gave him a salute, and dashed out of the office, slinging his backpack over a shoulder. Once he was out of the door, he let the smile drop, blowing a piece of hair out of his face. Jason’s eyes flickered to the clock, and on cue, the bells sang throughout the school. Automatically, doors opened and the halls were filled. Jason weaved and pushed through the students, intent on locating one person.

“How was ol’ Gordon?” An arm was slung around his shoulder and Jason groaned and pushed Dick off. 

“How’d you find out?” 

“Cass texted the group chat.” Jason dug out his phone and swore at the numerous messages he found waiting for him. Dick and Cass were gleeful, Damian was being a little shit, Tim hadn’t said anything, and Alfred and Bruce were overwhelmingly disappointed in him. 

Jason shoved the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the messages, and scanned the halls. 

“Idiot little brother,” Dick dramatically sighed, hooking an arm around Jason again. “But I don’t know if you’re more stupid in academics or romance.”

“Can you shut the hell up?” Jason asked, punching Dick in the torso. He rounded the corner and there you were. “Cass! Can you not rat me out next time?” He directed his attention to his sister who was leaning by your locker. 

“Jason! Can you not interrupt my conversation next time?” Cass retorted, pushing off the lockers. You shot Jason a look of disgustment and he winked back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason saddled up next to you. “Did’ya like my notes?”

“Did’ya like the principal’s office?” you shot back. “They might as well give you your own chair from how much time you spend there. What’re you clocking in? Four hours a day? Wouldn’t you say that deserves some compensation?”

“You would think so,” Jason said. “But it turns out I need to join the union first.” You closed your locker and started off towards your next class. Jason wrestled your books from you and you begrudgingly let him. “What’s that?” His voice lowered and his eyes fixated on a point on your arm. 

“Hmm? Oh, the doctor had to draw some blood a couple days ago. They couldn’t find the vein right away so it left a bruise.”

“No one touched you, yeah?” He lifted a brow and you shook your head in reassurance. “Good.” He shifted your books to one arm and his muscles flexed. Not that you were looking. He ran a finger over the bruise. “You know you could tell me?” Cass rolled her eyes to Dick who snickered.

“I know, Jason. You’ve been adamant about that. Now, if you could give me back my necessary textbooks, I would love to go to Science.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead, sweetheart. Now where’s your desk?” 

“Mr. Todd,” Mr. Kent exhaled as Jason entered the classroom. “Didn’t you already grace me with your presence today? What are you doing back?”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Kent!” Jason grinned. “Just dropping off my girl and then I’ll be outta your hair.” 

“Not your girl,” you corrected, though you knew it was futile.

“If you’re not dating anyone, you’re my girl,” Jason shot back. “And as I don’t see a soulmate brand on your wrist, you’re still mine.”

“Hello Ms. L/n,” Mr. Kent tried to hide a smile at the antics of his students. 

You sat down at your desk and greeted your neighbour, Roy. “Hello Y/n. Jaybird… ” Roy gave a shit-eating grin to his friend. “How was Gordon?”

“You asshole,” Jason griped. A warning bell rang and he slowly started backing up towards the door. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you in English.” You hummed noncommittally in reply. “Goodbye, shitface!” he called to Roy, throwing up his favourite finger. Roy blew him a kiss.

“He is whipped.” Your desk partner whistled. 

“No, he’s not,” you said. “I don’t know what we are, but I’m surprised he even looks at me, and certainly not in a romantic way.”

“Have you seen him hold anyone else’s stuff? That boy would burn the entire school down if it meant your safety.”

“Have you seen him with his girlfriends? Plural.” You opened your notebook as Mr. Kent started his science speech.

“And when was the last time he had a girlfriend?” Roy rested an elbow on the desk, completely ignoring the teacher. 

“Why the fuck are we still talking about this? Science and stuff are more critical than my non-existent relationships.”

“Y/n, I think your love life will always be the single-handedly most important thing to me ever,” Roy said honestly.

“Pity that there’s nothing to be interested in.” 

“You realise you inadvertently belittled yourself.”

“Yes, Roy, I’m aware.”

------

Jason woke up to screaming and shouts. Another ordinary day. “Jason! Get up!” Tim banged on the door. “You’re gonna be late!” Jason groaned and covered his head with his pillow. 

The door flew open and Cass waltzed in. “I think I left my book in here last night.” She started rummaging around the nightstand. 

“Get out!”

“Come on, you’ll be late to see Y/n!” Dick called from the doorway before running off to shower.

Jason paused. Dick was right. He needed to get up so he could meet you at the school doors. Not that you wanted to meet him, but he was always there anyway. 

“Oh, there he is,” Cassandra laughed. “That lovesick fool.”

“Ah, shut up. What’s for breakfast?” Jason slowly stood, stretching his sore muscles. He had spent last night at the gym in front of the punching bag. The rest of his siblings had eventually joined him in the Wayne gym. Damian had challenged him to a sparring match in which Damian and Tim teamed up on him and barely managed to win. He was going easy on them.

“Albert made pancakes.”

“Sweet,” Jason tugged on his clothes and signature leather jacket. “Do you ever find it weird that Alfred is the owner of a multimillion dollar company and he still makes us pancakes?”

“Do you ever find it weird that Bruce is the economics teacher at our school and you still wind up in Gordon’s office every other day?” Cass found her book and started out of the room. Jason followed after her.

“Do you ever find it weird,” Damian called from the bathroom, “that Dad quit his job to start teaching the youth of Gotham City and handed his company over to his butler after I was born? Clearly, we know who the favourite is.”

“Do you ever find it weird that you guys are interrupting my shower?!” Dick stuck his head out of said shower, motioning for Damian to close the door.

“Do you ever find it weird that in a house of idiots,” Tim hopped down the stairs. “I’m able to stay sane?”

“Dude, same.” Cass fistbumped Tim and they shared a secret handshake.

When the family finally arrived at Gotham High, after Jason’s bacon being stolen by Damian, Tim absent on account of before-school extracurriculars, and Alfred flipping pancakes while sporting an apron over his suit, Jason couldn’t help but scan the crowd. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to.

You were stepping off the bus, talking to Artemis and Kori. “Go on, loverboy,” Dick snickered.

“Fuck you,” was his reply.

“Hey, Todd,” Cass called. “When we get back home, I’m gonna re-dye your hair. You’re losing the white streak.”

Jason groaned. “Fine,” he grumbled, biting back a remark that it wasn’t dyed. He had lost that battle a long time ago.

“What’re you reading today, L/n?” He snatched your backpack away from you, intent on keeping his chivalrous streak alive.

“The Fault In Our Stars, a reread,” you said. 

“You don’t have to prove it to me, doll,” Jason said. 

You took a breath at the new nickname, but were quick to bite back. “Prove it? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t need to tell me you’ve read it before to prove you’re smart. You’re telling me it’s a reread cause you’re showing that you could be reading harder, more complex books but you “settled” for this one. But don’t worry, doll, I know you’re smart. Might even have to get you to tutor me.”

“I’ve seen your grades, Jason. You don’t need a tutor.”

“How sweet,” Jason placed a hand over his heart, pretending to swoon. “The Lady L/n thinks me as smart as she.”

“I never said you’re as smart as me,” you corrected.

“Care to make a little wager, then?” Jason held open the school door for you. Artemis rolled her eyes when he let it swing shut after you and she pulled it back open for her and Kori. 

“No,” you deadpanned. “Because I know whatever idea you have concocting in that little brain of yours will be degrading.” You paused at your locker, tugging your bag back. You said your goodbyes to Artemis and Kori, promising to see them later without a parasite named Jason clinging to you. 

“Get a better score on the English test today,” Jason proposed. “And I’ll leave you alone if you ask me to. But if I get a higher score, I get to call you my girl.”

“Absolutely not.” You shut him down but couldn’t help your competitive spirit spark up. “However,” you swung the locker closed and you could see a glimmer alight in Jason’s eyes. “If you win, I will allow you to take me on a date.” Jason’s lips parted and his tongue shot out to moisten them. His head tilted up, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe you’ll finally get over your obsession with me.” Your throat closed up at the prospect. Not that you would ever admit it, but you liked the attention Jason was giving you. He made you feel special. He made you feel loved.

“Obsession?” Jason whispered. He adjusted his jacket, fiddling with the zipper. “Is that what- you know what, yeah.” His supposed confidence returned. “But I’d be worried, Y/n. I’m not sure I’d be able to get rid of you if you go on a date with me.”

Rid of you. “Yeah, sure. And this is on the likelihood you’ll get a better score than me in English? That is where I thrive, Todd.”

“Same, actually.” Jason smirked. “It’s my highest grade.”

“Then let the best student win.” You stuck out your hand and Jason shook it, ignoring the warmth in his chest he got from touching you. 

“I will.”

“Funny. I was just about to say that.” 

Jason brushed a hand over your bruise. “When you’re done with Fault in our Stars, have you read The Count of Monte Cristo?”

“No. Would you recommend it?”

“Highly.”

You hummed and grabbed his hand to pull him out of the way of a group of theatre kids. “I’ve always wanted to go to Monte Cristo.”

“Sweetheart, that’s an expensive first date,” Jason joked, gripping your hand tighter when you tried to tug away.

“Eh, maybe as a fifth date.” Jason felt his face ignite at your words. He would kill for the prospect of a fifth date with you.

“I have to ace this test, first and foremost.” 

“An impossible feat.” You elbowed the boy in the side before winking at him and darting into your first class. You collapsed into your desk, your smug demeanour collapsing too. When was the last time you had openly flirted with someone? 

“I can’t wait to plan the wedding!” Kori squealed. You groaned loudly in response.

Outside the classroom, Jason couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “You finally got an in.” Tim appeared out of nowhere and clapped him on the back. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.” 

Jason couldn’t find an insult to throw back, something that in itself spoke volumes. “How was Coding Club?” 

Tim frowned. Did Jason ever ask about his extracurriculars? “It was good…” he said slowly. “We’re designing this robot to-” he started rambling as Jason sauntered down the hall, looking as if he’d won the lottery. And he hadn’t even taken the test yet.

------

Jason glanced over at you. You had finished the test a couple minutes ago and were now reclined in your desk, copy of The Fault in our Stars propped up and Jason could almost trace the crease between your brows at your concentration. He shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts and tried to focus back on the test.

Explain the significance of John Proctor proclaiming, “God is dead!” and then reciting prayers before his execution.

 Jason started scribbling out a reply and was soon caught up in his response.

Ms. Prince surveyed her students closely, looking for any sign of cheating. Her eyes locked on you. Ms. Prince always had a soft spot for you. You communicated and spoke up in class and definitely weren’t afraid to advocate for your beliefs. But she also noticed how you and Jason tested and battled each other. She noticed how the two of you willed each other to be better. You kept each other on your toes. Maybe that was one of the reasons she sat you next to each other. Maybe she could see the harbouring feelings. Maybe she just wanted to see some drama during the 160+ days she was stuck in school. 

Jason snickered to himself and Ms. Prince silently prayed to her gods that he kept his responses appropriate. She also prayed that you and Jason would figure out your feelings before the end of the school year. She wasn’t going to sit through your countless arguments and flirtatious comments for nothing.

The class eventually came to an end and Ms. Prince announced, “the scores will be released by nine o’clock tonight. Good job and good luck.”

Jason swept out of the room, giving you a wink akin to the one he received earlier that day. 

“He’s an annoying little bitch,” Cass muttered.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, ‘cause he’s your brother, but yeah,” you agreed. “Incredibly cocky and self-absorbed.”

“Amen,” she slapped you a high-five before bidding you goodbye. Soon, one sibling was replaced by another and Damian ran up to you.

“Y/n!” he crowed, latching himself to your arm. “How’ve you been? Good? Good. Listen, do a guy a favour, will you? I’ve been with you this entire time.”

“What the hell did you do and am I going to get in trouble for it?” you hissed, but automatically pulled him on the inside of you, instinctively shielding him from any oncoming danger.

“Nothing, nothing,” Damian promised. He had learned early on that the answer to everything was deny, deny, deny. “But Dad may be finding glitter in his desk drawer right about now.” 

“Damian,” you groaned. “That’s a fantastic prank and I love you for it, but your Dad is not the type of person who wants glitter in their files. Next time get Mr. Kent.” 

“Ooh, good tip.” The boy let out a laugh that sounded a bit too evil for your taste and you refrained from smacking him upside the head. 

“Damian Wayne!” A shout came down the hall.

“Shit,” Damian clutched your arm. “Remember, I’ve been with you the entire time.” 

“I know the drill,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ve been graced with your presence far too much to not know how to act.”

Damian paused and studied you. You quizzically stared back. “I like you,” the freshman suddenly decided.  

“Thanks? I thought that was already established.” 

“I can see why Jason adores you.”

“Excuse me?!” 

“Oh, this is my class!” Damian beamed. “Gotta go before Dad catches me! Bye, Y/n!”

“Bye? But what do you mean-” The boy ran away before you could demand answers. 

“Y/n?” You turned around to find Mr. Wayne in front of you. “Do you happen to know where my youngest went?” 

“Your youngest? As in Damian? He was with me the entire passing period, but just went off to his next class.” The lie came easily.

Mr. Wayne sighed and ran a hand down his face. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Y/n. If you weren’t friends with my children, I would have half a mind to put you in detention.” 

“But you like me,” you reminded him, smiling widely. “So… you won’t.”

“As long as you accept my invitation to join us for dinner tonight,” Mr. Wayne negotiated. “It’s been too long since Alfred fed you and he’s starting to worry that Jason scared you off.” 

“I assure you, Mr. Wayne, Jason hasn’t done anything of the sort. And yes, I would be happy to join your family for dinner.”

“Good,” Mr. Wayne said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to track down my spawn.”

“Bye, Mr. Wayne!” You managed the rest of the day without any more surprises from the Wayne family. In History, Mr. Curry was clearly nursing a hangover, so he put on the “historical” movie Night at the Museum. During Gym, Mr. Allen (Bart’s father, a fact that the boy always lorded over you for no apparent reason) was adamant on playing baseball. Luckily, Kori and Bart were both on your team, so with the combined speed-Bart- and strength- Kori (you were always shocked at how much muscle she packed under her bubbly personality)- your team won by a wide margin. Other than the bet with Jason, it had been a normal day, one you quickly wrote off in the books. Ms. Quinn, the librarian, bid you an enthusiastic goodbye at the end of the day. 

“Hey, Alfred,” you said as you entered the Wayne Manor.

“Miss. Y/n!” Alfred smothered his smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. How’ve you been, my dear?”

“I’ve been good. And you? How are things at Wayne Enterprises?”

“Mr. Wayne left the company in good condition, albeit I’ve been making some changes with staffing and schedules. Our stocks have been rising and I can safely say that the company is in good hands.”

“That’s fantastic, Alfred. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. After running this household, running a company can’t be too hard.” 

Alfred was about to retort when Damian ran up to you. “Y/n! Thank god you’re here! I need help with my homework.” 

“You literally have four older siblings and a teacher as a parent. I don’t think you need me,” you said. 

“But, Y/n!” Damian whined and you questioned if he was a freshman, giving how he was acting like a kindergartner. “You’re my favourite!” 

“I can’t argue with that,” you conceded. “What do you need help with?” 

“Science! Dr. Isley is kicking my ass.” Alfred shot the boy a glare and Damian corrected, “She does not like me.” 

“Isn’t Tim better at Science? Or Cass?” After some debate, you finally gave in to the boy’s pleads. “How can I help?” Damian slumped down at the kitchen table which was already occupied by Dick and Tim. You figured that Cass was tucked in her room, independently doing her homework, and you pushed the thought of Jason out of your mind.

“I don’t know… just, help!” He opened his folder and extracted a worksheet filled with equations on density and force. You grimaced. You hadn’t done this in two years and wondered if you could coax the information out of the darkest depths of your mind. You had thrown the equations in the literal and metaphorical trash the second you stepped out of that class. 

You started walking Damian through the questions, simultaneously working on your Maths homework and frequently checking your email to see if your English score had been released. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” a smooth voice sang in your ear. You elbowed Jason in the gut and he let out a groan. 

“More like, look what your brother dragged in.” 

“The scores just came out, sweetheart,” Jason smirked. “Shall we see who’s the victor?”  Cass groaned as she walked in, heading for the snack cabinet. 

“No! I need help from my future sister-in-law!” Damian cried. Jason turned red and looked away. Dick laughed loudly and even Tim pressed his lips together to stop a laugh.

“Damn right,” You held up your hand and Cass slapped it. “Cass and I are getting married and none of you are invited to the wedding. Except Alfred, of course.” 

“Of course,” Cass agreed.

“Just show me your score,” Jason tried to return to the topic at hand. 

“Fine,” you pulled up your email, a glistening new message from Ms. Prince in your inbox. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel nervous. You would be fine with either outcome, knowing you would never tell Jason to leave you alone. But he didn’t know that. Jason’s nerves were haywire, worried that the second you got your scores, you would tell him to piss off. “What’d you get?” 

“A 97, but technically a 92.” Jason proudly said. “I got extra credit.”

“Ms. Prince doesn’t give out extra credit!” you exclaimed. “What the hell?!”

“If you ask incredibly nicely and tell her it's for a good cause,” Jason said. “Then yes, she does.”

“You fucking told her about our bet, didn’t you.”

“Why yes, yes I did.” Jason looked incredibly proud of himself and you wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky simper off his face.

“What bet?” Mr. Wayne strutted into the room.

“Nothing,” both you and Jason answered at the same time Dick launched into an explanation of the wager. Mr. Wayne side-eyed both you and his son before peeking at Alfred. Alfred gave him a small shrug in response. 

“Just make sure no one gets emotionally hurt, Jason.” Bruce said. 

“How come you’re telling me and not Y/n!” Jason stood up, looking aghast. 

“Because Y/n is smarter than that,” Mr. Wayne said simply. 

Ignoring his father, Jason rounded on you. “Seriously, doll, what was your score?”

You glanced down at the number on your screen and a silent war raged on in your mind. On one side, your pride stood tall, but on the other, your heart begged for something else. “95,” you blurted out. 

The room went silent. Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance and Bruce immediately took out his phone and started typing away. Cass looked over your shoulder and hummed. Tim let out a low whistle and Damian cackled. Dick closely watched his younger brother with a pleased smile. 

“Wait, actually?” Jason asked. 

“Yes, Todd,” you sighed. “Actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bruce show his phone to Alfred. Alfred raised an eyebrow and you had an inkling of who Bruce had texted. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Jason continued. “Did you throw the test on purpose?” 

“Just take the date, Jason.” You said, “I wouldn’t dwell on it. Though I am expecting you to pull out all the stops.” 

“You won’t be disappointed, sweetheart.” Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead and you pushed him away, ignoring the twists and turns of your stomach.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #dcu #dc x reader #dc universe #red hood #red hood x reader #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #high school au #groundhog day #groundhog day au #soulmate au #soulmate #academic rivals #batsiblings #batfam #batkids #fluff #mutual pining #protective jason todd

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

have you talked at all about the animorphs going through a groundhog day/new game plus kind of time loop before? it's one of my favorite tropes / aus.

• Jake wakes up.  It’s a Southern California day like any other: sunny, 70, chance of aliens.  He showers, slumps downstairs, pours himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes.  Does his best to ignore the controller sitting across the table and staring at him.  Brushes his teeth.  Catches the bus.

Jake goes to Homeroom.  Jake goes to Algebra.  Jake goes to French.  Jake goes to U.S. History.  Jake goes to lunch.  Jake goes to Remedial English.  Jake goes to Biology.  Jake goes home.

“Remember,” Marco says, as they’re heading out.  “Tonight.  The usual place.”

Jake sighs, nodding.  It seems like that’s all they do these days, meet and try to talk their way up to going on the next mission.

He’s tired.  They’re all tired.

Maybe none of them more than Rachel, who is already grinding her teeth when she walks through the door.  “I can’t tonight,” she says.  “My mom needs me to babysit Jordan and Sara again.”

“Seriously?” Marco asks.

Jake knows why — this has been happening a lot lately.  It’s unlike Rachel to put off a mission, and yet.  It’s the yeerk pool.  None of them want to go back, even her.  Even if it means destroying an entire kandrona shipment Erek has pointed them toward.

But Jake’s in charge.  It’s Jake’s job to say “Fine.  We’ll try again tomorrow.”  And so he does.

• Jake wakes up.  He showers, he eats his sugar-covered corn, he does his best to hope he hasn’t caught the wrong kind of attention from the thing that looks like Tom.  He leaves for school.

Algebra seems like it’s been getting easier lately.  In French, he finishes a sentence correctly the first time the teacher prompts him.  Maybe he’s been getting better at balancing it all.

Or maybe it’s just been forever since they’ve been on a real mission.

“I can’t tonight,” Rachel says, when they’ve barely started the meeting.  “My mom needs me to babysit Jordan and Sara again.”

Marco’s response is sharp and sarcastic.  Jake curls his head forward, pressing it against his knees.  He gets why Marco’s annoyed.  This keeps happening.

“Jake?” Cassie asks softly.

He lifts his head.  “If this happens again tomorrow, we might need to plan to go without you,” he tells Rachel.

«That makes no sense,» Tobias says sharply.  «We can’t go without our strongest fighter.»

“Tomorrow.”  Jake can hear the tiredness in his own voice.  “We’ll make a decision tomorrow.”

• Jake wakes up.  He goes to school.  He sits through classes, through lunch.  He confirms with Marco that they’re still just meeting in Cassie’s barn for tonight.

“I can’t tonight,” Rachel says.  “My mom—”

“We know.”  Jake speaks more sharply than he means to.  He’s just.  He’s tired.  It feels like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“She’s just really busy right now,” Rachel mutters.

«Yeah, dude.»  Tobias glares, or maybe he just looks Jake’s way.  «Chill.»

“We go tomorrow,” Jake says.  “No matter what.  Tomorrow.”

Marco salutes.  “Tomorrow it is!”

• Only they don’t go the following day.  Jake suggests it, and the others all shout him down.  It’s just one night, Rachel and Tobias keep telling him, it’s just for now.  The kandrona shipment can wait one more night, Ax says.  Cassie suggests they all just take a breath, take a break.

• Jake messes up.  They don’t go the next day either, and this time it’s Jake’s fault; he fell asleep during what felt like the world’s most repetitive History class, and got detention.

“You doing all right?” his dad asks, picking him up after school that day.

“Yeah.”  Jake stares dully out the car window.  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“And...”

Jake can tell, by the change in tone, that they’ve gotten to the real reason his dad started this conversation.

“And Tom.”  Steve clears his throat.  “Has he seemed... off to you, lately?”

Yeah, Dad, he seems like he’s been replaced by a fucking alien, thanks for asking.  Jake wants to slide off his seat and onto the floor.  He wants to curl up in the footwell of the car and cry himself to sleep, right there on the spot.  “I don’t know,” he says.  “He seems fine to me.”

• The following day, Jake gets to the barn early.  He doesn’t like going on this mission without Rachel, but there’s a difference between waiting for a day and waiting for... he doesn’t know how long.  Several.  It’s been forever.

“Hey.”  It’s Cassie, standing in the door.  “You ready to go tonight?”

“Yes.”  Jake pushes to his feet.  “Yes.  Even if Rachel’s busy, we need to get this over with.”

Cassie frowns.  “Rachel didn’t mention being busy.  I know she’s had to babysit a lot lately, but she shouldn’t need to tonight.”

Jake snorts.  “No kidding, she’s had to babysit a lot.”

The doors of the barn swing open.  Rachel’s there, Marco trailing behind.  Two raptors land in the rafters, one after the other.

“Okay,” Jake says.  “I talked with Cassie, and we go ahead no matter what.”

“I can’t tonight,” Rachel says.

“Wow,” Jake mutters, “how did I know that was coming.”

Everyone stares at him.

He stares back.  “No one else is getting frustrated with this?”

“My mom’s just really busy right now.”  Rachel crosses her arms.

“When is she going to get un-busy?”  Jake knows he sounds mean.  He knows it.  But it feels like they’ve been having this conversation since... Since... He doesn’t know when.

“Definitely by this weekend she’ll be fine,” Rachel says.

“Weekends.”  Marco sighs, flopping his wrist against his forehead.  “I remember what those were like, back in the days of yore.”  He’s overdoing it, trying to break the tension.

“What...”  Jake frowns, a sudden uneasiness saturating his stomach.  “What day is it today?”

“It’s Thursday,” Rachel says.  “So the weekend starts tomorrow.  I promise, it’ll be fine.”

“Thursday.”  Jake looks at his watch, not that that’s any help.  “I could’ve sworn it was...”  He trails off, looking into space.  He’s never sure what day it is anymore.  And yet, that answer doesn’t sound right — this whole thing doesn’t feel right — for some reason he can’t put his finger on.

«Let’s just go tomorrow, yeah?» Tobias says.  «We can’t go without our strongest fighter.»

“Yeah,” Jake mutters.  “You keep saying that.”

Still, they go home.

• Jake wakes up.  He doesn’t feel rested, but at least he doesn’t remember dreaming.

“Jake?” his mom asks over breakfast.  “Have you seen Tom this morning?”

Jake shakes his head, hoping that’s not a bad sign.  He leaves for school.

“Remember,” Marco says, as they’re heading out.  “Tonight.  The usual place.”

It’s not like Jake was at any risk of forgetting.  This is their third? fourth? meeting in a row.

He goes to Cassie’s barn.  “I can’t tonight,” Rachel says.  “My mom needs me to babysit Jordan and Sara again.”

“I thought you said she’d be free by Friday,” Jake points out.

“Yeah, and today’s Thursday.”  Rachel crosses her arms.

“It can’t be Thursday, yesterday was Thursday,” Jake snaps.  “We’re already at the weekend.”

“Weekends.”  Marco sighs, flopping his wrist against his forehead.  “I remember what those were like, back in the days of yore.”

Jake stares at Marco.  His whole brain is tilting, spinning, horizon losing its contours.  It’s not unease he’s feeling.  It’s dread.  Panic.

“Hey Ax?” Jake says, voice very small.

«Yes, Prince Jake?»

“N...”  He takes a breath.  “Never mind.”

• Jake wakes up.  He checks the level of the Frosted Flakes.  He should’ve gone through the box, and yet...

“Hey Mom,” he calls, still inside the pantry.  “Did you replace these lately?”

A shadow falls over the door.  Tom is blocking the opening, staring hard at Jake.  “Why are you asking that?”

Jake tries for a natural smile.  “Just wondering.  Did Mom ever find you?  She was looking for you yesterday.”

“Wait.”  Tom’s eyes narrow.  “What?”

The shelf impacts Jake’s lower back, which is how he knows he stepped back.  “Just wanted to make sure that...”

“Jake?” his mom calls.  “You said my name?”

He grabs the cereal box and runs.

When he gets to school, they’re still on integer-valued polynomials.  And conjugating “tournoyer.”  And Chumash-Mexican alliances.  And split infinitives.  And the krebs cycle.

“Remember,” Marco says, as they’re heading out.  “Tonight.  The usual place.”

And for the first time in his life, Jake doesn’t even bother to go.

• Jake wakes up.  Jake stays in bed.  He’s tired.  He’s tired, and he’s starting to understand what’s happening here.  If his mom asks, he’ll fake sick.  But either way, fuck school.

• Staying in bed gets old fast.  Jake spends an entire day actually teaching himself the one-hour lesson on polynomials.  And then another day on regular conjugation of multipart verbs.  And then two more, one each for the Chumash and Mexicans.  And then skips another school day, because he doesn’t give a damn about infinitives, and then finally the krebs cycle.

• He hasn’t been on an Animorphs mission in...

A while.  It’s been a while.

And he’s feeling fine.

• “I’m telling you, if you even tried kidnapping Spider-Man and adding him as a Robin,” Marco says over lunch, “then Aunt May would just go out, buy a shotgun, and cap Bruce Wayne’s ass.”

Jake stares at him.  He’s been letting this conversation wash over him, but now... “Don’t you ever get sick of talking about this stuff?” he asks.

Marco’s face does something complicated.  It takes less than a second, before his smile is back in place.  It has an edge now.  “It’s not like we can talk about anything real here, you absolute gravy stain,” he says through his teeth.

Jake nods.  He pushes to his feet.  And then he stands up on the table.

“Marco!” Jake says, and the cafeteria falls silent.  “Marco Sant-Alonso Grant Dominguez, will you marry me?”

There’s laughter, and then there’s whispering, and then there’s booing.

And then there’s detention, for breaking the school’s policy against homosexual conduct.

It’s something different, anyway.

• Jake lives.

• Some days he walks out of the house before anyone else is up.  He goes flying, and spends the day with Tobias and Ax.  He morphs wolf, runs out to find Toby, and spends the day there instead.  He attends a Sharing meeting, walking uninvited to its back room and noting as many faces as he can before they drag him back out.

• Maybe it’s not fair to everyone else, Jake thinks on some days.  Maybe they deserve to live and grow.  But maybe they deserve to not be at war, and maybe they’re not, not really, not while they’re in this holding pattern.

• Jake thrives.

• “Detention, young man,” Chapman says, because Jake hasn’t bothered to go to English class for quite a while now.

Jake whirls around, staring him down.  “Did you just try to put my host in detention, Iniss 226?” he demands.

Chapman’s face freezes.  His whole body is caught between one motion and the next, mouth hanging halfway open.

“That’s what I thought,” Jake says.  And then he spins back around and walks out the door.  He’s laughing by the time he reaches the sidewalk.  Laughing uncontrollably, laughing with stupid little snorts mixed in.  Laughing like he hasn’t since...

A while.  It’s been a while.

• Jake goes joyriding in his mom’s car.  Jake goes joyriding in a stolen Bug fighter.  Jake’s lonely, but Jake’s been lonely for a long time.

• “My name is Jake!” he announces, the next time he feels like standing on a cafeteria table.  “And I’m an Animorph!”

• Jake messes up.

“Hey Jake?” Jake’s mom says over dinner one night, the way she often does.  “Cassie called a few times.  She sounded worried about you.”

Jake stirs his food (he’s so so sick of stuffed cabbage), not looking up.  “Don’t worry,” he tells his mom.  “She’s annoyed because I’m not planning our ten thousandth attempt to bring down the Yeerk Empire.  But it started to feel pointless after a while, you know?”

His dad asks if this is something to do with a video game.  His mom asks if he and Cassie are dating.  His brother’s face is blank, twisting into horror.

Jake throws Tom a wink, and waits for the explosion.

It never comes, to his surprise.  Instead Tom stares at him in silence for the rest of dinner, not eating, not talking.

The yeerk must be — and Jake laughs aloud at the thought — planning on doing something about it tomorrow.

• Jake wakes up.  He wakes up, because he can’t breathe.

There’s a hand pressed over his nose and mouth.  There’s a two-hundred-pound human body pinning him to his bed.  There’s a knee jammed into his diaphragm.  Any one of these could account for Jake’s drowning-man struggle, clawing at Tom’s wrist as his body starves for air.

“Don’t worry.”  Tom’s voice is silky-low in his ear, and Jake doesn’t care because THERE’S NO AIR.  “I’m not going to kill you, you little shit.  Then I’d be alone in this loop.”

He lets go, sitting back.  Jake sucks in a breath so violently his whole chest arcs off the bed.

Jake sits up.  They stare at each other.

Yeah, Jake fucked up.

“Hi,” Jake says at last, hoarse.  “My name's Jake.  You are?”

The yeerk doesn’t try anything cute, like claiming to be Tom.  “Ardek 5851.  Sub-Visser Two-Oh-Nine.”

Jake nods.  “You’ve been in the loop... how long?”

“For me, this is the eighty-sixth time it’s been Thursday, May tenth,” Ardek 5851 says.  “What about you?”

Jake has no freaking clue how many days it’s been since he noticed, and he has a nasty suspicion it took him at least a week to notice at all.  He settles for shrugging.

“Fine.”  Ardek sits Tom upright, cross-legged on the end of Jake’s bed.  “On to the elephant in the room.  You’re helping the andalite bandits.  And so is Cassie Moises.”

Jake is aware that he’s the stupidest person ever to live, thanks.  There’s no need to point it out.

“Well?” Ardek raises Tom’s eyebrows.  “I gave you my name and rank, midget.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jake snaps.  He shoves to his feet, fists clenched, chest aching.  “And yeah, I’m helping them.”

Ardek snorts loudly.  “Clearly they’re not helping you, or else you wouldn’t still be here.  What, no Time Matrix on loan for their lowly human ally?”

Jake shrugs.  He has to play this carefully.  The variables have changed overnight: now his survival is likely to hinge on that of this creature.  This is bad.  “Maybe I like it here.  Maybe I haven’t bothered telling my andalite contact, because I don't think it's worth the trouble."

Ardek squints at him.  “If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were telling the truth.  Since I do know you, midget, I know you’re telling the truth. Damn.”  He laughs, shaking his head.  “I mean, I knew you were fucked up, because Tom knows you’re fucked up.  But this...”  He shakes his head again.

“So.  Guess we’ll go back to how it was, then.”  Jake shrugs again.  “You do your thing, and I’ll do mine.”

“Jake.”  The name seems like a deliberate choice.  “Jake, you know we can’t go on like this forever.  Work with me, kid.  If you don’t want out, what do you want?”

Jake lets his gaze flick to Tom’s body, and then back up to his eyes.  “I think you know.”

Ardek grimaces.  “Fine,” he says.  “Agreed. He sucks as a host anyway.  But you can’t let him go blabbing the truth after I give him back.  And you let me go my own way."

"Fine."

"There’s this bod I’ve had my eye on anyway, this local cop who’s also a ranked weight-lifter.  Shouldn’t be too hard to grab.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” Jake murmurs.

“Hey, you get Tom, I get Officer Jenna Richards.  Everyone wins.”

“Just...”  Jake presses his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose.  “Tell me what you've already tried, to end the loop."

• When they part ways, Jake doesn’t go to Ax.  The part about not wanting to trouble him was true.  And after their little trip to the Cretaceous, Jake is pretty sure Ax has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to sario rips.  Instead, Jake finds Erek.

He doesn’t start by asking about time loops, but with “You remember when we helped you guys fix the pemalite ship?”

Erek nods, because of course Erek remembers.

“Okay,” Jake says.  “So this is going to be one hell of a return favor, but...”  He smiles weakly.  “How do you feel about breaking the space-time continuum?”

• Jake wakes.  Ardek is sitting on the end of his bed again.

“Rise and shine, little bro!” he says.  “Who’s ready for some breakfast?”

Jake groans, rubbing a hand over his face.  “I’m not your brother.”

“And I’m guessing Tom got better sleep on the last-ever May ninth than you did.”  Ardek grins at him.  “So?”

“My contact didn’t get an answer right away.  I’m supposed to come back.”

“So Prince Whoeverthefuck can start running the calculations again?  From the top?”  Tom’s fists are tight on the bedspread.

“Yep.”  It’s Jake’s turn to grin obnoxiously at him.  “So I’d better get over there, don’t you think?”

Ardek flips him off, and stalks out of the room.

• Erek starts from the top, every morning.  Usually after an hour’s worth of exhausting the same suggestions he made yesterday, with Jake shooting down each one at ever-increasing speed.  Erek hits a dead end, every evening.  And he gives Jake something to memorize and recite back to him the following morning.

• Jake comes home to find Tom splayed out on the floor, the whole room stinking of strawberry schnapps.  Ardek is vague-eyed, loll-headed.

“What are you doing?” Jake says slowly.

“Livin’...”  Ardek hiccups.  “Livin’ like there’s no tomorrow.”

Jake considers.  And then he sits on the floor next to Tom.  “Strawberry schnapps, huh?”

“Yep.  Dad’s got shit taste.”

“He’s not your dad.”

“Thank god for that.”  Ardek hands over the bottle.

Jake takes it. “No tomorrow, right?”

Ardek fumbles behind himself in the pantry, comes up with cooking sherry this time.  “No tomorrow.”  He toasts with it.

Jake sips the schnapps.  Yep, even more awful than it smells.  He sets the bottle on the floor, grateful when Ardek doesn’t push the issue.

“So how’s the world’s slowest war-prince doing for you?” Ardek asks.

“‘Slow’ is about it.”  Jake doesn’t sip again.  “Why can’t you ask any of your fellow sub-vissers for help, while we’re waiting?”

Ardek snorts.  “I wish.  Cooperation within the Empire isn’t...”  He trails off.  “It isn’t.  Period.”

“Sounds like a pain.”

“Okay, so.  You got Visser Three, stomping around on his itty-bitty hooves like he hung the stars and we should all be kissing his ass.  You got Visser One, whose deal is...”  Ardek blows a raspberry.  “I don’t even know.  Scary-ass lady.  And you gotta pick one or the other or else your ass is grass.  But you’re stuck either minioning for Visser Three, or betting everything on some alleged revolution that inn’t even going to come through ‘cause...”  He hiccups again.

Jake chuckles.  “Sounds like politics.”

“Y’know, every time I try to tell people my host used to live next door to Visser One’s host, they think I’m making it up?” Ardek says.  “That I’m trying for, like, the position of kissass-in-chief.”

“Would you take it, if you could?” Jake asks.  He takes another wincing sip.

“What, a vissership?”  Ardek slurs the word, stopping to work Tom’s mouth when he’s finally got it out.  “In an instant.  An instant.  It means being safe, being visser.  It means not having to kiss up anymore.  It’d mean no longer having to deal with this...”  He flicks Tom’s finger against his temple, like getting rid of a bug.  “And getting a nice, quiet, voluntary host instead.  I’ll kiss all the ass in the world for that.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way before,” Jake says quietly.

Ardek snorts.  “Like you’re not kissing the ass of some war-prince, just to be allowed to be in the war at all?”

Jake hums noncommittally.  Sips again.  Wonders if he should try to hide the bottles before his parents get home.

Let them ground Tom.  It’s not like it matters.

• Erek makes little progress.  Ardek comments on it constantly, but Jake still won’t let him come along to meet this contact.

• Jake wakes.  This time, it’s because he’s been dumped out of bed and onto the floor.

“Hey.”  Ardek crouches next to him, straightens up, bounces on the spot.  “Hey, hey, asshole.  I tried your idea, man.  I tried your brilliant damn idea of, of, asking our technician about time loops.”

Jake sits up slowly.  “And?”

“I died, man!”  Tom’s voice rises into a screech.

Now Jake scrambles to his feet.  “You died.  Yesterday.  Last loop.  You—”

“Those utter grass-munchers reported me, said I was losing the plot, and of course they didn’t want to deal with me, we’re already over budget and understaffed, yadda yadda, so they shot me!”  Ardek is still bouncing, wide-eyed, manic.

“They shot Tom,” Jake says.  “And you both died.”

“Yes, you stupid human, he died too!”  Ardek makes a dismissive gesture.  “I’ve done the drills, we’ve all done the drills, on how to get out of the skull in an emergency, but all the blood was coming out everywhere, and all the circuits were shutting down, and the stupid host was screaming, and...”  He wraps both arms around himself, shuddering.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Jake says slowly.

Ardek punches him in the arm.  “Damn straight you’re sorry.  ‘Why don’t you try asking your people’s technicians?’” he says in a truly awful imitation of Jake’s voice.  “‘See if they can help.’”

Jake gets a hand around Tom’s bicep.  Gently pulls Ardek down to sit on the edge of the bed.  Ardek curls forward, both hands pressed over his face.

“You people aren’t even worth it, you know that?”  Ardek speaks through Tom’s fingers.  “You don’t have blades, you fall over all the time, and pretending to be you involves wasting so much time on the most inane crap...”  He lifts his head.  “You know, if you’d take one tenth the time and resources and brainpower you people spend on this shit—”  He plucks at his shirt hem — "and ditch the clothes, you’d be shuttling to deep space and outgunning the andalites by now.”

“Probably,” Jake says.  “Why are you here, then?  If we’re such a crappy species.”

“No choice,” Ardek says dully.  He flops back onto Jake’s bed.  “If you try to not go to whatever shitty backwater planet they assign you and recruit the locals, you end up...”  He shudders again.  “Like me, yesterday.”

Jake never expected to feel this much sympathy for a yeerk.  Much less the one currently puppeting his brother.  “You could stay,” he offers.  “In the loop.  Just... hold.”

Ardek rolls onto his side.  “I,” he says slowly, “have not eaten—” He pokes Jake’s leg.  “A single drop of kandrona.  In one-hundred forty-three fucking days.  I was scheduled to go first thing, the morning of May eleventh, but nooo.  I haven’t talked to my friends in that long either, because I can’t exactly pick up the phone and do a check-in, now can I?”

Another angle Jake has never considered before.  “Do you even... want a host at all?” he asks slowly.

“Beats being stuck in the kandrona tank twenty-four-seven,” Ardek says.  “I don’t like eating that much.”

There’s something in there, something about all the yeerks feeling like there are only two choices and both suck, that... Jake has a half an idea.  Less than.  He has to run it by Cassie, and then...

And then have Cassie forget the whole thing, over and over again.

“Why is this happening to us?” he asks Ardek, flopping next to him on the bed.  “I mean, why us?”

“Extremely localized sario rip went off in the basement,” Ardek says immediately.  “Caught us both sleeping, sent us into a loop that’s spiraling slowly down until we both die.  Like that... Jacob’s Ladder movie.”

Jake hums.  He’s already lived that one out, in Brazil, and he’s pretty sure this isn’t it.  “Wouldn’t it have collapsed when you died, then?”

“Yeah.”  Ardek sighs.  “For the longest time I thought it was something you andalites did to us, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.  What about you?  Any thoughts?”

“Crayak.”  It slips out almost before Jake means to say it.

“What’s that?”

“Cosmic being.”  Jake stares at the ceiling.  “Doesn’t like me.  Would pull crap like this, most likely.”

“Then why am I here?” Ardek whines.

Jake doesn’t answer.  And then he figures there’s no harm in answering.  “I think... he wants me to make a choice.  The same one he’s been pushing me toward for a long time now.”

“And that is?”

Jake rolls over enough to look Ardek in the eye.  Enough to look into Tom’s eyes.  “I’m working with the andalites.  You’re a controller.  Figure it out.”

Then he stands up, and starts getting dressed for school.  One more round of infinitives won’t kill him, and if his suspicion about how to get out of the loop is correct then it beats the alternative.

• Erek works out a shorthand for himself.  Jake teaches it back to him every morning, and memorizes a page of notes written in the shortened code every evening.  He deserves extra credit in Algebra for this, even with his new expertise on polynomials.

• Jake’s parents keep catching him to ask about Tom.  They’re worried — he’s stayed in his room all day today.  All day today.  All day today.

“I’m close.”  Jake stands in the door of Tom’s room.  Ardek is curled in a ball on his bed.  “I swear, I’m getting close.”

Ardek lifts Tom’s head.  His eyes are dull.

Jake has been there.  Jake knows.

He shuts the door when he leaves.

• “Forget all of that,” Erek says, ten seconds after handing Jake today’s notes.  “Forget all of it.”  His auto-generated voice sounds excited.  “How long do we have?”

“The loop resets at midnight,” Jake says.

Erek nods.  He’s grinning.  “We’ll be cutting it fine, but I think you can do this.  Because it all fits, if you just add in the Neuguyn Equation and drop the exponential term—”

“—over lambda,” Jake finishes.  “Because then it’s symmetrical, and simplifying it takes half the time.”

Erek raises his eyebrows.  “Dude, how many Thursdays have you had?”

Jake shakes his head.  “Neuguyn Equation.  Teach it to me.”

• Jake wakes up.  Jake throws himself out the window, hitting the ground hard.  But he’s up, morphing to Homer even as he goes at a mad sprint for Erek’s house.  Neuguyn Equation, in place of the exponent.  Neuguyn Equation, in place of the exponent.

• Jake throws open his front door, three hours later.  “Ardek!” he yells.  “Ardek, we’ve got it!”

“Jake?”  His mom’s straightening up from where she was working in the living room.  “Shouldn’t you be at school?  Tom’s home sick, are you also...?”

Jake ignores her.  He’ll apologize tomorrow, if there is a tomorrow.  “Ardek!”  He pounds on Tom’s bedroom door.

Ardek yanks it open.  “You have an answer?”

Jake nods.  “We got it.”

Ducking back into the room, Ardek yanks on shoes and socks.  “Yes, yes, yes!”  He leans down the stairs.  “Mom!  We’re borrowing the car!”

Jake’s mom says something in response, and it doesn’t sound like an affirmative.  Ardek’s already grabbing the keys.

Jake gives directions to the Kings’ house.  His own heart is pounding, his fingertips tingling.  Please let this work.  Please.

• Erek answers the door, smiling pleasantly.  “Please do not be fooled by my human morph,” he tells Ardek.  “This is just a temporary means of avoiding suspicion by the neighbors.”

Ardek takes this with a nod.

“You’re ready?” Erek asks Jake.

Jake takes a breath, and rattles off the math.  It’s a ten-minute process.

Erek nods.  Then he reaches out, grabbing Tom by the wrist.  “I need you to stay here, as you risk getting hurt if you stand too close to the collapse when Jake sets it off.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ardek says.  “Fine with me.”

Jake walks over to the sphere of what looks like ball lightning, floating in the middle of the Kings’ living room.  It’s hard even to look at, eating light and energy from the world around it.

He grabs the first of the metal rods from the floor, and plunges it into the current.  The power jolts up his arm, throwing off the rhythm of his heart, making his hair stand on end.  He grabs the other rod, closing the circuit.

He shifts them apart, then brings them together, building up the flow.  Does it again.  Does it again.  His body is burning, stuttering.  He’s falling apart.

There’s a pop of displaced air, and the world goes into reverse.

The sun plunges down to the east, the sky going dark.  Ghostly shapes, echoes of past possibilities, shoot past in reverse.  Jake feels those universes collapsing into his chest, thousands of possibilities yanked back into his body in a single brain-exploding instant.  The air sucks out of the room, drops back in.  Shutting his eyes does nothing to help, because he can still feel those branches being pulled back into him.

And then it’s done.  He’s standing in the living room, the ball lightning absent, just Erek and Ardek and Tom.

“Did it work?” Ardek asks.

Erek frowns.  “Did what work?”

Jake’s head snaps around.  “Emergency override: six.  I’m sorry, friend, but we cannot play today.  You require maintenance.”

The pemalite code, despite being translated, despite not having been spoken in forty thousand years, works perfectly.  Erek goes blank and dead, hologram shutting off entirely, body freezing in position.

“Uh.”  Ardek tries to yank Tom’s wrist away, makes no progress at all against that relentless thousand-pound grip.  “What the hell?”

“Mr. King’s in the other room,” Jake says levelly.  “He’ll get you food and water, and he’ll make sure Tom doesn’t die.  But he can’t hurt Erek, or Tom, trying to get you loose.  And he doesn’t have any kandrona.”

Jake doesn’t know if the math suddenly fitting helped him to make a decision, or if it suddenly fit because he finally decided.  But he does know that one thing is always true about Crayak’s traps: that the Ellimist is very good at leaving the Animorphs a third way out.

“Please,” Ardek is begging.  He’s yanking harder now, but Erek doesn’t move.  Can’t move, until Jake turns him back on.  “Please, please, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry!” he screams, in Tom’s voice.  Straining Tom’s throat.

“I know,” Jake says.  And then he walks out the front door.

It’s Thursday.  It’s Thursday, but he’s pretty sure tomorrow will be Friday.

• Jake wakes up.  He wakes because his mom is shaking him.  “Honey, we need your help.”  She sounds frantic.  This is new.

“What day is it?” Jake asks.

“Friday,” she says dismissively, not noticing his sharp inhale.  “Honey, nobody’s seen Tom since yesterday morning, your dad and I have called everyone we know, and —”

Jake rolls out of bed.  “I’ll go looking for him.  I know which friend he might be with.”

His mom rushes out of the room.  It’s Friday.  It’s Friday.

• When he gets to Erek’s place, Tom is slumped against Erek’s unmoving legs.  His wrist is swollen black within Erek’s grip.  Ardek lies dead on the floor.  It’s Friday.

• The cops knock on Jake’s front door, less than an hour after they get home.  This, even though Jake’s mom called to cancel the missing-persons report 30 minutes ago.

Tom answers, right arm tucked into the pocket of his coat.  Tom tells the officers, his voice hoarse and ragged, that it was just a stupid bender and that he’s very sorry for going out drinking underage.  Tom assures them both it won’t happen again.  Tom sees them on their way.

Jake shuts the door, locks it.  “Those were...”

“Controllers, yeah.”  Tom coughs, winces.  Ardek must have screamed all night.  “And they’ll be back within the hour.”

Jake nods.  “Pack your stuff, then.  We’re running.”  He knew this might happen.  He knew.

“They’re going to find us,” Tom rasps.

“Only way out was through.”  Jake thinks.  He hopes.  “Don’t know about you, but I was getting pretty sick of Thursdays.”

Tom nods.  “Should contact your war-prince first, though.”

“Yeah,” Jake says.  “About that.”

#animorphs #animorphs au #jake berenson #tom berenson #long post #groundhog day au #suffocation #violence #time loop #depression

[abibliophobiaa]

Stuck in a Moment

banner credit to @blue-mossbird​. check out her stories if you have not, because they're all lovely!

-

Summary: 

You are two peas in a pod. The peanut butter to his jelly. Macaroni to his cheese. The Pippin to his Merry. And that’s fine—that’s normal. 

That’s a certainty. It has been since you were ten years old and will remain that way forever. 

That is, until that fateful day in July when everything you knew came to a screeching, blinding halt. 

And there’s only one problem: the day you wished had never happened, the one that shook your version of comfortable, safe, undisturbed normal—you keep living it over and over again. 

“You’ve got to get yourself together, you’ve got stuck in a moment, and you can’t get out of it…”

-

Warnings and tags: best friends to lovers, limited use of y/n (eddie refers to r as “pip/pippin” and other nicknames), time loop/groundhog day trope, modern day au, angst, mentions of and depictions of death, injury, mentions of alcohol, smut, HEA, 18+ minors dni.

playlist || ao3

🏷️ tag list is open

-

Chapter List:

one - coming soon...

two - coming soon...

three - coming soon...

four - coming soon...

… and beyond…

#SIAM #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson best friend #time loop au #groundhog day au #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fanficton #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #best friends to lovers supremacy

[butmakeitgayblog]

Since Groundhog Day was yesterday, it made me think of Clexa in a similar situation to the movie. Except it’s Valentine’s Day and Clarke is a jaded news producer, who really just wants to work on her documentaries and create something “real” unlike all the puff pieces her news station forces her to produce. And Lexa is the on camera journalist who actually enjoys any opportunity to talk to people and have insight into other peoples lives, although she does wish for more hard hitting investigative stories, the puff pieces are kinda fun. So the two find themselves working together on a new piece for Valentine’s Day in the nearby city known for their extravagant Valentines celebrations. Lexa is enjoying herself in the festivities and getting some great interviews but Clarke can’t wait for the day to be over, as soon as they’re done she’s packing up her stuff and heading back home. But nature has a different idea and an unexpected storm has them trapped this lovey dovey town for another day. Of course another day never happens because Clarke keeps waking up to another reliving of Valentine’s Day. Over and over. She doesn’t know what to do or how to make it stop, so she actually starts to get to know Lexa and starts to find how much they have in common but any progress she makes is cut off at the end of the day. What does she have to do to make this day end?

Dude ok so I have thought about this

Because if you look it up it says that in the movie overall he spent OVER 33 years trapped in that cycle

33 years.

Can you imagine Clarke, the biggest anti-Cupid's Day Grinch (as Lexa says, excuse her mixed monikers), trapped not only in the same day in this same town in this same gd hotel, but it's on the one day a year she initially said she hated and held great disdain for???

33 years spent feeling her very one-sighted heart shift and soften and evolve. Not to mention, 33 years slowly falling in love with Lexa, the very woman she had initially felt so bland - if not contemptuous - toward. 33 years spent just learning everything there is about her. Learning all of her little quirks. Memorizing her favorite foods, her favorite books, her favorite words and knowing which ones make her grin in unexpected delight. Learning how to make her smile. Or frown. Or scrunch up her little red nose in the dying cold of Spring. Memorizing what makes this woman blush, or get angry. Sometimes beg, when she's lucky and it's a particularly good version of the day.

It doesn't actually take 33 years, obviously. She fell in love with Lexa way before that, because honestly, how could she not. But fuck, there Clarke is. Stuck in this hell place, hopelessly in love with this women who she knows everything about, who if they could just get the fuck out of this day she would marry in a minute, who has held her and made love to her more times than she can count, who she has fought with and been humiliated byand chastised and made laugh, who is the first person to really make Clarke feel alive... and yet most days Lexa can barely even remember Clarke's last name. She's just Clarke again. The Grinch who doesn't believe in love and hates everything about Valentine's Day.

So many nights they fall asleep together Lexa's bed because Clarke insists. Clarke sighing into the feel of holding her just like an old wife, Lexa squirming with the excitement of a new and unexpected adventure in her love life.

And every morning they wake up across the hall from each other as nothing more than casual workmates.

#anon #groundhog day au

[commanderbuffy]

flirt, drink, sleep...repeat - chapter 5: touch

Jade wakes with a smile on her face. It’s the most excited she’s been for the day ahead since…probably since the practical last semester on robotic engines. Discounting that, though, Jade hasn’t woken so happy since she crossed the ocean all those months ago.

She knows it’s Tuesday again. The fourth Tuesday she’s experienced in a row. But Jade has no obligations to anything other than what she and Kit wish to do that day. Kit. Jade throws an arm over her face to hide the growing grin taking over her visage. There’s no one here to see it and make fun of her for it, but she covers it anyway.

#tanthamore #tanthamore fic #bar au #groundhog day au

[lightning-chicken]

*sprints to your inbox*

I SMELL WIPS AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S COOKING IN KEY'S KITCHEN

HI FINN! :D

time for a wip breakdown post:

digital reflections au - explained in this post. short version: jay is replaced by an npc clone of himself (called superstar rockin’ jay) during s12 and is abandoned in prime empire by the unaware ninja. two oneshots have been planned; one has been written and posted here, and the other’s about halfway done.

putting the puzzle pieces back together - my take on what happened to jay post-merge! written post-leaks and pre-teasers so it’s all based on the fact that jay has amnesia and he’s working for the administration (which, in my au, is an agency dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and using it to keep the other realms in line). it’s been a project of mine for a while and i cannot wait to share the rest of it (especially what i have planned for jay’s powers)!

my currently-unnamed groundhog day au is based on the concept of the film (time loops), but not strictly the plot. kai and nya get stuck in a time loop during the finale of s7, and have to work with each other, their newly-returned parents, and the ninja to restore time to its natural state. i have a couple of scenes planned for this but that’s about it; i’m trying (emphasis on the word trying) to finish my other projects before tackling this!

and finally: my other prime empire au that’s been in the works since… *checks notes* july 2022?!? it’s gone through many changes and rewrites due to the fact it’s heavily science-fiction inspired and therefore requires a lot of lore-building to make sense. it’s a prime empire au, but in the loosest sense possible: there’s a video game called prime empire, some people get trapped in it, and jay gets separated from the ninja - but that’s about all there is in common. unfortunately i can’t say too much about it, given the fact that there are certain plot twists that change the trajectory of the entire story and are therefore spoilers.

#i’m so excited for all of these #aaaaaaaa #so what if i learned a new programming language because i wanted to write fanfiction. what are you going to do about it #ninjago #jay walker #kai smith #nya smith #prime empire #hands of time #ns12 #ns7 #ninjago au #key’s aus #key’s fics #key’s conversations #key’s asks #finn tag! #putting the puzzle pieces back together #digital reflections au #groundhog day au

[notyourriddler]

Groundhog Day - Part 1 Hux POV

The world shifted in greens and purples before finally landing on a solid aura of red. Red. Of course it was. Red like that stupid- there was a grunt next to him that caused Armitage to freeze.

He'd gone to bed alone last night.

He'd made sure he'd gone to bed alone.

He breathed in slowly, a familiar scent hitting his nose.

Ren.

Hux screwed his eyes shut in frustration as he remembered the big oaf lumping his way into their shared working space and refusing to leave. Of course that idiot had gotten into bed with him. Hux let out a regulated sigh of frustration before fully opening his eyes. There was a brief moment where he contemplated suffocating the other with a pillow before he realized how strong Ren's arms must be with the work he did.

When his boss had told him he needed to bring along a camera man he'd been peeved. When he'd been told he needed to take the galoot that insisted on using outdated machinery and managed to carry it like a child carried a grain of sugar, Hux had choked on his drink. It was one of his less flattering moments but he was drawn out of the memory with another of Ren's guttural groans that bordered on snoring. No. No smothering just wouldn't work.

With a heavy and resigned sigh, Hux pushed himself up and moved off at the foot of the bed. He winced as it creaked and he heard another snore cut short by the sudden movement. Armitage froze not wanting to deal with the classless ape any sooner than necessary. He didn't have time to explain the basics of their job again to the man. Again. But as the sounds resumed a rhythm that seemed regular, Hux felt it safe enough to get up and head to the bathroom to freshen up. At least there he'd have a few minutes of peace.

#kylux #enemies to lovers #writing #my writing #groundhog day au #groundhog day kylux au

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Why Can't This Be Love

Author: @markwatneyandenesemble

Rating/Warning: Mature

Chapter Count: 5/?

Description: Eddie wakes up on Friday, March 21, 1986 convinced he'd just died, and was sure of two things: 1) he'd lived that day before and watched Chrissy die at the end of it and 2) he couldn't let that happen again.

Tags: Alternate Universe- canon divergence, alternate universe- everyone lives/nobody dies, time loop, groundhog day au, mutual pining, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: WIP

#Alternate Universe- canon divergence #alternate universe- everyone lives/nobody dies #time loop #groundhog day au #mutual pining #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #alternating POV #multiple chapters #status: WIP #eddsy #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie and chrissy #eddie munson #chreddie #chrissy deserved better #hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #munningham #hellcheer fanfic #stranger things

[x-authorship-x]

Omg I love it when people actually depict the trauma of going through a time loop over and over and over again

Whenever I find a time loop fanfic it's always "Oh this is the 16251651th time I do this, but it's okay, I'll just do things differently this time!" and there is no breakdown or panic attack or actually feeling everything that comes with a time loop, even when there's no death- although 9 times out of 10 when people write time loops it has something to do with someone's death

You're, like, the third writer I've seen writing good time loop trauma, even if we've only got a glance of your writing and not it completely

I don't read time loops too often, they seem to have been more popular with older fanfic trends and kinda skewed towards crackish, levelling-up power trips OR, like you say, the loop of someone's death. My favourite time loop AU is actually a very long and intensive Zelda fic that weighs heavily on the mechanics of the BotW game restarting after the Calamity is defeated... It was extremely cool, I'd recommend it (even if it is really saga length, so you need to pick at it over time or have the energy to just ..go for it)

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #wip #sunrise au #groundhog day au #shisui #itachi

[miryum]

Sweetheart- Chapter 2

Summary: Jason Todd finds himself in a Groundhog Day situation and it won't stop until he finds his soulmate who's going through the exact same situation. But will you two stop being idiots long enough to too see what's in front of you? Not even the author knows...

ao3 link

Taglist: @susvale

Warnings: nerd references, Alfred and Harley Quinn being awesome, the latter half not being beta-read, but will be edited soon :)

Jason woke up to screaming and shouts. Another ordinary day. “Jason! Get up!” Tim banged on the door. “You’re gonna be late!” Jason groaned and covered his head with his pillow. 

The door flew open and Cass waltzed in. “I think I left my book in here last night.” She started rummaging around the nightstand. 

Jason snuggled into his covers. Then his eyes flew open. “No… you didn’t,” he corrected Cass, sleep evident in his voice. “You read in your room last night. It was two days ago when you bugged me.”

“Then why is my book in your room?” Cass wiggled her found book in his face. Jason glared at the book for a moment before shrugging it off. He must’ve forgotten.

“Come on, you’ll be late to see Y/n!” Dick called from the doorway before running off to shower.

Jason sat up slowly and the covers fell down to his waist. Why was he getting extreme deja vu? 

“Oh, there he is,” Cassandra laughed. “That lovesick fool.”

“Didn’t you say that yesterday?” Jason mumbled. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He pinched at his shoulders, squirming at the tight muscles. Why were his muscles sore? He didn’t work out yesterday. Maybe they were still sore from beating Damian and Tim. He decided to test his theory, “Hey? What’s for breakfast?” 

“Alfred made pancakes,” Cass said simply. 

“But Alfred never makes the same thing two days in a row,” Jason said to himself.

“Yeah?” Cass was innocent to his inner turmoil. “Yesterday we had omelettes. What’s up with you today?”

“Nothing… nothing.” The room lapsed into odd silence and Jason, tugging on his leather jacket (which he pleasantly found to be clean), suddenly released what was wrong. “Did, uh, do you ever find it weird that Alfred is the owner of a multimillion dollar company and he still makes us pancakes?”

“Do you ever find it weird that Bruce is the economics teacher at our school and you still wind up in Gordon’s office every other day?” Cass started out of the room and Jason followed after her, silently congratulating himself on bringing the conversation back around. 

“Do you ever find it weird,” Damian called from the bathroom, “that Dad quit his job to start teaching the youth of Gotham City and handed his company over to his butler after I was born? Clearly, we know who the favourite is.” 

“Do you ever find it weird that you guys are interrupting my shower?!” Dick stuck his head out of said shower, motioning for Damian to close the door. Jason was baffled at how similar everything was. If he hadn’t heard of soulmate stories, he would think this was all one big prank. Or that he was going crazy.  

“Do you ever find it weird that in a house of idiots,” Tim hopped down the stairs. “I’m able to stay sane?”

“Dude, same.” Cass fistbumped Tim and they shared a secret handshake.

Maybe Jason was going crazy. Did he really think the universe would give him a soulmate? After all his fights with Bruce? After all those nights he snuck out? After all his depressive panic attacks? What soulmate would want him? 

During breakfast, Jason’s bacon was stolen by Damian, yet again. Tim rushed out the door on account of Coding Club and Alfred flipped pancakes while sporting an apron over his suit. 

“Are you alright, Master Todd?” Alfred asked, placing more pancakes in front of him. From the head of the table, Bruce scoffed and straightened his newspaper. He had tried telling Alfred to stop calling them ‘Master,’ but old habits were hard to shake. 

“Probably just anxious about the test he has today,” Damian said through a mouth full of food. “We all know it’s impossible for him to concentrate with beautiful Y/n sitting next to him!” The young boy sighed dramatically. Jason hurled the syrup bottle at him. Dick caught it mid-air before the bottle could do any damage. 

“I remember Miss. Y/n,” Alfred mused. “When are you going to invite her over again?” Jason wasn’t sure who Alfred’s question was directed at- him or Cass- so he kept his mouth shut.

“Can she come over tonight?” Damian asked. “I need help with homework.”

“Didn’t we finish that yesterday?” Bruce asked, setting down the newspaper. 

Damian shoved more pancake in his mouth, mumbling, “not all of it?” 

It was unsettling to pull up to school and see everyone wearing the exact same clothes, having the exact same conversations, and walking the exact same steps. 

You were stepping off the bus, talking to Artemis and Kori. “Go on, loverboy,” Dick snickered, taking Jason’s analysis of the crowd as scanning for you. (Which was also true, not that he would ever admit it.)

“Fuck you,” was his automatic reply.

“Hey, Todd,” Cass called. “When we get back home, I’m gonna re-dye your hair. You’re losing the white streak.”

Jason groaned, thinking of the torture he had gone through yesterday. He hadn’t realised he would have to go through it again.

“What’re you reading today, L/n?” He tried to copy his movements from yesterday, snatching your backpack away from you. In order for his plan to work, he would have to act exactly as he did yesterday.

You slowly scanned him up and down, and Jason couldn’t decipher your expression. It seemed like you were hopeful at first, overanalyzing him, but it was quickly washed away. “Uh, The Fault In Our Stars, a reread,” you said. Jason wanted to believe that the bookmark was farther than where it was yesterday morning, but he shook it off. He probably just wanted to believe it.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, doll,” Jason said. He puffed up his chest, pleased that he could still make you flush at his nicknames. 

“Prove it? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t need to tell me you’ve read it before to prove you’re smart. You’re telling me it’s a reread cause you’re showing that you could be reading harder, more complex books but you “settled” for this one. But don’t worry, doll, I know you’re smart.”

You stilled, before slowly replying, “Thank you. You get good grades, too.”

“How sweet,” Jason placed a hand over his heart, pretending to swoon. “The Lady L/n thinks me as smart as she.”

“I never said you’re as smart as me,” you corrected.

“Care to make a little wager, then?” Jason held open the school door for you. He carefully concocted the wager as he did the day before. Jason went through the rest of the day, trying hard to remember what he did yesterday. But, of course, it wasn’t technically yesterday. It was still Thursday. Only, it was the second Thursday he’d have this week. Geez, this was going to get confusing, he thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying your best to not to have a panic attack. You had woken up to the same texts on your phone and the same greetings from your parents. At first, you had thought it was a big joke that your friends had roped your parents into. You confronted Artemis and Kori on the bus, already frustrated with your parents when they hadn’t let up. Either Artemis and Kori were incredible actors, or something weird was going on. 

Something was nagging at you and when Artemis had pulled you aside and suggested you talk to an adult about it- “Ms. Quinn might know what you’re talking about. She knows a lot of random bullshit,”- you decided that was the best course of action.

“Ms. Quinn,” you approached her after the school day. “Do you know anything about days repeating themselves? Or am I going completely crazy and deserve to be in an insane asylum?”

Ms. Quinn laughed and said, “well, it seems to me as if you might’ve found your soulmate, my young padawan!”

“Padawan? When did I become a Jedi?” You cocked an eyebrow at your favourite librarian.

“You’ve always been my padawan,” Ms. Quinn said, as if it was obvious. She stood up and led you to the non-fiction section. “But I can’t guarantee I won’t lead you to the darkside.”

“Understandable,”

“I always wondered when you would find a soulmate,” Ms. Quinn commented. “You’ll have to invite me to the wedding.”

“Ms. Quinn! I’m not- we’re- I haven’t even met them yet!”

She handed a book to you, smirking. “Alright. Whatever makes you sleep at night. Check the index of this for looping days.’”

“Thanks, Ms. Quinn.”

“Anytime!”

You snuggled up in a corner of the library and flipped open the book, titled, Soulmate Identifiers. The index pointed you to page 42, in which you chuckled to yourself, silently thinking of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

“Is something funny?” A voice asked from above you. You looked up to see Jason standing over you.

“What’re you doing here?” You didn’t answer his question, glaring in suspicion at him. You didn’t see him in the library yesterday, but then again, you were helping Ms. Quinn and probably didn’t run into him.

“I need to check out a book for History,” he explained.

“What’re you doing here, bothering me?” you clarified.

“Can’t I see my sweetheart without her lashing out at me?” Jason asked, laying down next to you and using his backpack as a pillow. 

“No.” 

“Fair enough. What’re you reading?”

“Um…” You paused, wondering if Jason would make fun of you for your choice of book. “I.. don’t know.” 

“You... don’t know?” Jason snickered, eyeing you. Clearly he knew that you were lying, but he allowed you to stay in your dishonesty.

“I don’t know. I just picked it up.” You buried your face back into the pages, trying to mask the embarrassment. Quickly, you scanned the words: While perhaps not the most common or conventional soulmate identifier, Looping Days is a personal favourite of mine. Looping Days happen when two soulmates have ignored their feelings long enough for the universe to take notice. One singular day continues repeating, akin to the famous movie Groundhog Day, however, unlike the movie, both soulmates experience it.

The day keeps repeating until the two soulmates confess their feelings, whether romantic or platonic, to each other and the week continues on, every other person unaware. When the soulmates confess, a soulmark of something significant that happened over the repeating days appears on the wrist. 

The book went onto explain the questions scientists had about this soulmate phenomena, but you had read enough.

In order to escape this supposedly endless Thursday, you had to find your soulmate. 

------

A whimper escaped Jason’s mouth as Cassandra tugged on his hair. He was seated on the toilet while his sister attempted to wrangle him with hair dye. “Woman up,” Cass grumbled.

“Would you tell me if you found your soulmate?” Jason asked softly. 

Cass stopped, eyes meeting Jason’s in the mirror. “You found them?” she whispered. “Who?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t found them yet.”

“Why? What’s the indicator?”

“I think it’s time looping. Yesterday was Thursday too. It’s really weird seeing the same things happen all over again. It kind of makes me feel like a god.” he chuckled. “I can predict everyone’s move.”

“Who do you think it is?” Cass yanked on his hair. “‘Cause I’ve heard that whoever you want it to be, that’s probably them.”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Y/n’s here!” Damian screamed out. 

Cass placed a firm hand on Jason’s shoulder to keep him from jumping up to greet you. “Lemme finish!” she scolded. “I’m almost done.”

“But I wanna… okay. Fine.” After a couple of minutes with Cass slapping upside the head whenever he squirmed and wiggled. How was it fair that Damian, Tim, and Dick got to spend time with you? 

“Okay, you’re free to go,” Cass said, but Jason was already halfway out the door. “Sure! I’ll just clean up by myself!” she rolled her eyes. “Wait! Jason!” Jason poked his head back in the bathroom. “To answer your question, yes, I would tell you if I found my soulmate.” Jason gave her a faint, trusting smile. 

Jason took a moment at the top of the steps to compose himself. He subconsciously ran a hand through his newly dyed hair, wondering if you would notice. He noticed you at the kitchen table, hunched over with Damian. “Look what the cat dragged in,” he crooned in your ear. 

You elbowed him in the gut and he groaned at the newly forming bruise. “More like, look what your brother dragged in,” you replied.  

“The scores just came out, sweetheart,” Jason smirked, slipping into the seat next to you. “Shall we see who the victor is?”  Cass groaned loudly as she walked in, opening the snack cabinet. She pulled out a bag of pretzels and poured herself and Tim a bowl. Tim graciously accepted it. 

“No! I need help from my future sister-in-law!” Damian cried. Jason’s heart thumped widely. He hid a smile at the slim idea of marrying you. He couldn’t imagine the image of you being the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night. Were you a cuddly sleeper? Or did you prefer to stay to your side of the bed? What did your morning voice sound like? Did you prefer evening sex or morning sez? He flushed at the intrusive thought. Dick laughed loudly and even Tim pressed his lips together to stop a laugh.

“Damn right,” You held up your hand and Cass slapped it. “Cass and I are getting married and none of you are invited to the wedding. Except Alfred, of course.” 

“Of course,” Cass agreed.

“Just show me your score,” Jason whined. “Please!”

“Fine,” you pulled out your phone. Jason’s leg bounced up and down and Dick raised an eyebrow at him, silently telling him to cool it. “What’d you get?” you asked.

“A 97, but technically a 92.” Jason proudly said. “I got extra credit.” He hadn’t changed any of his answers for fear of getting something wrong. And then maybe you would surpass him. He couldn’t have that.

“Ms. Prince doesn’t give out extra credit!” you exclaimed. “What the hell?!”

“If you ask incredibly nicely and tell her it's for a good cause,” Jason explained. “Then yes, she does.”

“You fucking told her about our bet, didn’t you,” you accused.

“Why yes, yes I did.” Jason smirked and you looked incredibly frustrated.

“What bet?” Bruce asked. 

“Nothing,” both you and Jason answered at the same time Dick launched into an explanation of the wager. Bruce peered at Alfred who gave him a small shrug in response. 

“Just make sure no one gets emotionally hurt, Jason.” Bruce said. 

“How come you’re telling me and not Y/n?!” Jason stood up, aghast. 

“Because Y/n is smarter than that,” Bruce said simply. 

Ignoring his father, Jason rounded on you. “Seriously, doll, what was your score?”

You glanced down at the number on your screen and Jason swallowed. “95,” you said after a tense moment.

The room went silent. Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance and Bruce immediately took out his phone and started typing away. Cass looked over your shoulder and hummed. Tim let out a low whistle and Damian cackled. Dick closely watched his younger brother with a pleased smile. 

“Wait, actually?” Jason asked. 

“Yes, Todd,” you sighed. “Actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bruce show his phone to Alfred. Alfred raised an eyebrow and you had an inkling of who Bruce had texted. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Jason continued. “Did you throw the test on purpose?” 

“Just take the date, Jason.” You said, “I wouldn’t dwell on it. Though I am expecting you to pull out all the stops.” 

“You won’t be disappointed, sweetheart.” Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead and practically skipped to his room, his smile lighting up the room. Later that night, as he lay in bed, he silently wondered if he was technically cheating on his soulmate by promising you a date that he may get to go on. What would happen if he found his soulmate, but you still expected a date? He didn’t want to let you down. He didn’t know if he could ever let you down. If you asked him for anything, he would probably trip over his own feet to complete your request. 

Jason made a pact, then and there, that he would take you on a date no matter if he found his soulmate or not.

It was the least he could do.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #dcu #dc x reader #dc universe #red hood #red hood x reader #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #harley quinn #clark kent #high school #high school au #groundhog day au #groundhog day #soulmate au #soulmate #academic rivals #batsiblings #batfam #batkids #fluff #mutual pining

[theresawritesstuff]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel Characters: Miriam "Midge" Maisel, Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel), Abe Weissman, Rose Weissman, Susie Myerson, Alfie, Joel Maisel, Ethan Maisel, Esther Maisel Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Eventual Romance, Angst and Humor Summary:

Lenny Bruce wakes up to one of the worst days of his life, finding himself unexpectedly on the Upper West Side. Repeatedly. The same day over and over and over again. And he's pretty sure it's not just a residential effect from the substances he took the night before. Now he has to figure out how to stop it

(It's a Groundhog Day AU folks! Welcome aboard!)

#back by popular demand #midgelenny #midge x lenny #tmmm fanfic #groundhog day au

[blade-that-was-broken]

In your time loop fic, JD talks about purposely messing up the PFH. What made you reach that idea?

I personally love this idea and I have had it as a head cannon for while but I haven’t seen anyone other than you bring up the idea.

Oh, that was just kind of another "iteration" of the loop. By the time JD gets to that point, he's been in countless loops and none of them end well. By the time it ends, he comes to the conclusion that he has to leave - angry and being kind of a jerk - alone, pushing his brothers away. (In the loops, when he tries to escape with his brothers, it has never ended well. This goes for the same if he took one, two or all brothers).

He's tired and frustrated and scared and he just wants it to end so he kind of sabotages things so that he knows it will fail and it will make people angry at him - without them asking questions about WHY he does it because they don't know he did so.

It's less of a headcanon FOR canon for me, and kind of something that worked out for what I needed it to in the oneshot. I'm not sure if JD would do this in canon, considering he seems to be kinda a perfectionist?

I guess I think there would have to be a seriously amazing reason why John would sabotage a performance cause I really don't think he would do something like that out of malice.

#ask #the more i learn the less i bleed au #timeloop au #groundhog day au

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 6: Groundhog Day AU

I am profoundly unemployed and after I had an interview this morning I cranked this bad boy out. I love NaNoWriMo, if that answers any questions. This is my longest fic to date, and also the first with the smooching. If you survive the angst you will be rewarded chastely

Also posted to AO3 here.

Warning: Major Character Death. He does get better, in the end, but he does die a bunch of times before getting to that point.

☆ ☆ ☆

The night after Spock died, Jim crawled into Bones’s bed as soon as he was relieved from duty and sobbed into his chest until his throat was raw. They were trapped, the odds of their successful retrieval were slim, and the communications relay between here and HQ had failed. Each of these things, individually or in combination, Jim felt he could have handled, if Spock were alive. If Spock were hovering over his shoulder, his body heat burning into Jim even from inches away, if he could hear that deep voice calling him illogical or improving his ideas or taking command on the bridge, he thought he could have figured out a better way. A way out. 

But Spock had died. He had disintegrated into a hundred million pieces of ash in the radiation of the anomaly they were stuck in, trying to repair part of the shield to save the rest of the crew from poisoning, and there wasn’t enough left of him for Jim to hold in one hand. 

Spock had died. Spock had left him, abandoned him, and even though he had been trying to save the crew Jim was furious with him. He said as much to Bones, who stroked his hair with one hand and jabbed him with a hypo with the other as the panic welled up inside him and closed his airways. 

“Sleep, darlin’,” Bones said, gentle in a way that he never was with Jim, and that made him cry again. But the hypo did its job, and even as his body rebelled under the weight of his grief Jim slept. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Jim woke up in his own bed, and for a moment he struggled to remember how he had gotten there. He swore that he had fallen asleep somewhere else. He was supposed to be somewhere else…

He had slept in Bones’s quarters the night before. Had stayed there until he could lay down without screaming. Why had he been screaming?

Because Spock had died. The remembrance hit him like a freight train, and for a blinding, blistering moment he thought about rolling over, curling up, and going to sleep forever. Someone else could be in control of the ship. He was half of himself without his first officer, and not even the good half. Let Bones or Uhura take over. Maybe one of them could find something else, some miracle, to pull them from the spacetime anomaly they’d wobbled into, that had claimed the life of his friend. The man he loved. Jim’s hands flew up to cover his eyes as tears pricked into them again, drowning under his grief and regret. He had never told Spock, specifically, what he meant to him. He had thought that they would have more time. 

With his hands pressed down over his eyes, he considered his options. He could give up and die, or he could struggle upwards and live another day and then die soon anyway as the anomaly ate his ship. If he had been alone, stranded in Iowa again or back on Tarsus, maybe he would have stayed in bed. But he wasn’t in Iowa, or on Tarsus, or alone. There was a crew that needed him upright. Spock had died for that crew. 

Thinking of that crew… noises from the bathroom slowly permeated his hearing. Had someone already moved into Spock’s quarters? His grief ebbed away and was replaced by anger, boiling into rage as he sat up slowly. Spock hadn’t been killed, uselessly, to save these people longer than twelve hours ago and someone had already called dibs on his fucking quarters? Without thinking he slid off the bed and prowled forward, not bothering to grab his phaser. If someone was moving Spock’s shit before he’d even gotten the chance to contact Spock’s family --- Jesus fuck, he was going to have to tell Sarek that the last member of his family had died, and there was a conversation he had never wanted to have --- he was going to beat them to a pulp with his hands and throw them in the brig. 

Bristling, red-hot with anger, he punched the control panel and stalked through the open door, one fist raised.

“Fuck off,” he snarled at the figure bent over the sink. “Get the fuck out.” 

The tall, dark-haired man spat into the sink and straightened, toothbrush in hand. “Good morning, captain,” Spock said. 

“Spock?” Jim’s hands dropped. He stared at Spock, tall and whole before him, before scrubbing his eyes furiously. He had watched Spock die, had watched him freeze under the onslaught of whatever he felt out in the horrible vacuum, had seen him raise the ta’al in his enviro suit as he disintegrated before the eyes of everyone on the bridge, he had screamed until his voice broke the moment he had been alone --- 

“Is everything alright, captain? I am nearly finished,” Spock said, and rinsed his toothbrush before replacing it in the holder next to the sink. 

It was a dream. It must have been a dream. 

“I’m going to do something you’re not going to like,” Jim breathed, and before Spock could respond he crossed the bathroom in two strides and threw his arms around Spock. Spock froze before slowly lifting one hand and patting Jim gingerly on the back. 

“Captain, I can feel your distress,” Spock said. “What is the cause of this?” 

“It was a dream,” Jim said, and he pulled back far enough to look Spock in the face but keeping his hands on Spock’s shoulders, feeling his Vulcan heat through the thin fabric of his sleep shirt. “God, I had the most awful dream, and I thought it was real when I woke up, and I --- you’re here. Jesus.” He laughed shakily and wiped a hand across his face, scrubbing the remnants of unfallen tears from his eyes. “I am so glad to see you.” 

“I am glad to see you as well, captain,” Spock said, and he patted Jim once more before peeling his hand off his shoulder and returning it to Jim’s personal space. “Would you care to join me for breakfast before Alpha shift?” 

“Yes, I would,” Jim said, grinning. “I would love that.” 

☆ ☆ ☆

Jim frequently had vivid dreams --- products of an overactive brain, he supposed --- but arriving on the bridge with Spock after breakfast only to discover that all of his memories of the day that Spock had died had been part of the same dream was deeply unsettling. 

He physically startled when he saw the stardate on the viewscreen in front of him. 

“Problem, captain?” Sulu asked, half-turning around in his seat. Sulu’s hands were steady on the controls, none of the intuitive but panicked motions of his navigation in Jim’s dream present. 

“I had the oddest dream about this stardate,” Jim said, and Spock gave him a knowing look from the science station before turning back to his maps. “It was just terrible. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to discover that it was just a dream. It’s like a free do-over.” 

“Congratulations, captain,” Uhura laughed, and Jim reveled in her happiness instead of her shocked cry as Spock had vanished. Nothing was going to be able to bring his mood down. Spock was alive, the stars passed them in blurry, shining streaks as they warped towards the edge of Alpha quadrant, and it was another beautiful day on the Enterprise. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Jim’s sense of deja vu appeared two hours before the end of his shift, and the change in atmosphere caused the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle up. 

“Spock, are you seeing anything unusual on the scanners?” He shifted in his seat, craning his neck to see his science officer. 

“No, captain,” Spock said, eyes glued to his sensor. “Normal intrawarp turbulence, but nothing, as you say, unusual.” 

“Chekov? Sulu? Anything odd coming up that we should be aware of?”

“Negatiwe, Keptin,” Chekov said. “Clear space up ahead. We will reach Starbase 18 in three days.” 

“Nothing, captain,” Sulu said, and turned back to look at him. Chekov turned to look at Sulu. Spock was still glued to his scanner, and Uhura was reading a communique on her padd. The sense of deja vu was overpowering; Jim was unable to stop his stomach from flipping over inside him. 

“No,” he said, but no one looked at where he was looking. “Not this.” They looked at each other, at their work, at their captain; but Jim was the only one watching the viewscreen ahead of them when the blackness before them was gone, subsumed entirely by a flash of white light, and everything around him disappeared. 

☆ ☆ ☆

When Jim opened his eyes again, the Enterprise and her crew had returned, but the view ahead of them was the pure white of nothing instead of the familiar blackness of space. “Sound off,” he snapped. “Everyone okay?” Spock’s sensor was whirring in distress, various machines and tools on the Enterprise registering that something was terribly wrong, but his crew murmured around him, “Yes, captain.” 

“Get me Scotty,” he said, and Uhura patched him through. “Scotty, what’s going on?”

“Captain, where in the hell are we?” 

“I don’t…” Jim started, and trailed off. He did know. He had seen this in his dream last night. “We���re in some sort of slip in space. Uncharted territory. How’s the ship?” 

“Aye, not good, captain. Whatever’s outside us is not our space. It’s eating my shields.” 

“Eating?”

“Aye, sir. Like radiation, but it’s not of a type we’re familiar with or able to measure on our scanners.” 

“Confirmed, captain,” Spock said. “I am not registering anything unusual on our scanners, but my eyes provide contradictory data.” He gestured to the fact that everything was gone; no space, no stars. 

“Can we get out? Reverse out of here?” 

Sulu pressed a variety of buttons on his console, fast as lightning, but there was no accompanying roar from the engines or press of gravity against them. “She’s not responding, sir.” 

Scotty’s voice over the comms said, “The engines are on, warp core steady, but, sir… we’re just not going anywhere.” 

YOU ARE TRAVELING, BUT NOT IN A DIRECTION YOUR MIND UNDERSTANDS. Before Jim could think about it, his mouth was saying, “I think we’re traveling, but not… not in a dimension we understand.” 

Spock straightened at his console. “Another dimension, captain?” 

YES. “Maybe,” he said. YOU HEAR US, JAMESKIRK. Jim shook his head. 

“I’m going to engineering for a moment. Spock, you have the conn.” Spock nodded and seated himself in the captain’s chair as Jim strode to the turbolift. “Engineering,” he said, as he heard Spock say, “Lieutenant Chekov, what do you know of the dimensions?” 

This was different from his dream. If he gave Spock the conn, Spock couldn’t complete his disastrous spacewalk and get eaten by 5-D radiation, or whatever. YOU ARE LEARNING, JAMESKIRK. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the voice in his mind, and prayed that he wasn’t going crazy. But he knew that he had lived this day before. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Scotty was literally tearing his hair out in Engineering, scattering the short reddish strands over the floor by his station. He pointed to the unfortunate-looking negative slope on the shields graph. “There’s a failure somewhere, captain,” he said. “We might be able to hold out a little while longer, but if we don’t patch it we’re going to fry in a hurry.” 

“We’re not sending anyone out there,” Jim said. ‘It’ll kill them.” 

“Perhaps not immediately,” Spock’s voice said from behind him. 

“Spock, I gave you the conn,” Jim snapped as he turned, and his stomach dropped into the abyss. Fear clenched his heart. 

“I gave it to Sulu,” Spock said calmly, like he wasn’t breaking Jim’s direct orders. Like he wasn’t bringing Jim’s worst nightmare to life with his inexorable stoicism. “Chekov and I have access to the shield data as well. We came to the same conclusions.” 

“You’re not going out there,” Jim said. “Hell no.” 

“The good of the many, captain,” Spock said, and Jim restrained himself from baring his teeth at Spock. Spock had said the same thing in his dream last night, and in the dream Jim had allowed him to go. “Mr. Scott, how long will the repairs take?” 

“For a human, maybe two minutes.” Scotty glanced guiltily at the captain before saying, “For a Vulcan… maybe thirty seconds.” 

“Spock, no.” 

“Captain,” Spock said. “I cannot logically allow anyone else to make the attempt.” He nodded to Scotty and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked away, towards the wall of enviro suits. Jim followed him. 

“This is exactly what happened in my dream, Spock. You can’t go. You’ll die.” 

“Did I fix the shield failure first?” 

“That’s not the fucking point, man! This is a suicide mission. Whatever’s out there will eat through your suit like tissue paper.” 

“Captain.” Spock came to a halt in front of a suit. Jim tried to avoid reading the number on the wall panel that would confirm that it was the same suit he died in in his dream. “Jim.”

“Come on,” Jim said. Don’t call me Jim like that. Don’t look at me like that and then walk away from me. Don’t leave me. 

“Even if I took your dream as data, the probability of success for a human is too low to be worth risking, and the probability of radiation death for the ship too high to be ignored. I say this not as your first officer, but as your only Vulcan officer.” Spock caught his eye. “This is my responsibility.” He pulled the suit out of the charging port and stripped efficiently out of his tunic and trousers before stepping into the enviro suit. 

“I’m putting Bones on call. Spock, please. If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

With the hint of a twinkle in his eye, Spock zipped the suit up to his chin and hefted the helmet into his arms. “I would like to witness the attempt, captain.” 

Spock was going out there again. Jim was going to have to watch him die again. It was going to tear his heart into shreds again. He wasn’t going to survive whatever came after. He cleared his throat. “Spock…” 

Spock turned back to him. “Yes, captain?”

Jim’s cowardice killed his courage and stuffed its body into a Dumpster. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“I do not intend to, captain.” He pulled the helmet over his head and sealed it to the suit, nodded to Jim, and turned to Scotty. 

Jim went back to the bridge to watch Spock die. From the captain’s chair, he watched in numb horror as Spock floated out through the airlock, latched onto the outside of the ship, and made his way to the failing shield panel. God, he was so close. He was so close to fixing it. But the power of whatever was out there was too much for some wimpy enviro suit, and Jim knew this time the ta’al was for him. 

WE ARE SORRY JAMESKIRK WE WILL RETURN HIM TO YOU AGAIN. Jim ignored the voice in his head --- his survivor’s guilt? His conscience? --- and tried to keep his bleeding heart from falling out of his chest. Uhura’s shocked, choked-off gasp, Sulu’s blank stare, Chekov’s silent tears: none of them surprised him today like they had in his dream. The novelty had worn off, and he had tried to warn him, and it hadn’t worked. He hadn’t been able to save Spock, and somehow knowing it was coming didn’t make it any easier to understand. 

He screamed himself hoarse in the observatory where he and Spock used to play chess and went to go find Bones when the shift was over, and he didn’t even flinch when Bones hypo’d him and he drifted off to sleep. 

☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆

Jim’s eyes flew open before his alarm went off. He was not in Bones’s quarters. He was in his room. Spock was dead. There were noises coming from the bathroom. 

He slapped the panel by the door. It slid open. Spock stood in front of their mirror with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. His eyebrow said, “I could use another minute here, captain,” but Jim was crossing the room before Spock could say anything out loud. 

This isn’t real, he thought, and he wrapped his arms around Spock’s waist from behind and buried his head against Spock’s warm, steady, alive shoulder. 

Spock finished brushing his teeth, spat, wiped his mouth, and made eye contact with Jim through the mirror. “Can I help you with anything, captain?” 

“I think I’m losing my fucking mind,” he said. 

THIS IS REAL JAMESKIRK BUT HE DOES NOT REMEMBER DYING. Right. There was a voice in his head that was not making him feel any more sane. Spock stood entirely still. He had not relaxed into Jim’s arms, like any of his other partners had in this position, but he hadn’t pulled Jim off either. 

“Captain, I can feel your distress. What is the cause of this?” Jim could feel Spock’s voice rumbling through his cheek where it was pressed to Spock. He closed his eyes. 

“I keep having this awful dream,” he said. “I watched you die. And now you’re here again.”

“I believe that makes us even, captain.” Spock said, and Jim was so surprised by Spock making a joke that he dropped his arms. 

“That was rude,” he accused, and Spock looked distinctly pleased with himself as he turned to face Jim. 

“Captain. Jim. Why do you think you’re losing your mind?” 

Jim couldn’t have this conversation with Spock’s face so close to his, not if Spock was going to use his first name. Spock’s dark-chocolate eyes were enormous at this distance. Jim backed up until his shoulders hit the opposite wall and scrubbed his hand through his hair. 

“What’s the stardate?” 

“2238.12, captain.” The same day from his first dream, the same day from yesterday, and now today. Jim swore and headed into his room, digging for his uniform and pulling it on haphazardly. Spock trailed after him, barefoot and in pajamas. “What is happening, Jim?” 

“I’ve lived this day before! Or something!” 

“Or something,” Spock said, skeptical. 

“We’re going to have a normal day until we hit something weird, and then our shields are going to break, and then you’re going to try to fix it and die in the attempt and then I will wake up here.” 

“Are you sure, captain?” 

“No!” Jim tugged on socks and boots. “God, I’m not sure of anything. I’m just glad you’re alive. Please don’t die today.” 

“I’ll do my best, captain.” Then Spock followed him to the bridge. 

Jim was sure that the crew thought he was crazy, but at least he had impressed upon them the danger of whatever was ahead of them. Chekov and Sulu kept exchanging glances every time he asked them to scan again, but if it kept them all alive, if it kept Spock alive, he’d put himself into a straitjacket to do it. 

JAMESKIRK THIS OUTCOME HAS ALREADY BEEN DECIDED. 

Leave me alone, he thought. If the outcome is already decided, why is today already different?

THE FACADE MAY CHANGE BUT THE STRUCTURE REMAINS.

He tried to remember what Spock had taught him about blocking psychic intruders, and he decided that if they survived today he was going to Medbay to talk to Bones about hallucinations. 

THIS IS NOT A HALLUCINATION JAMESKIRK WE ARE TRYING TO HELP YOU. WE DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE HERE. 

We have that in common, then. 

LET US HELP YOU JAMESKIRK LISTEN TO US. THERE IS A WAY OUT BUT YOU MUST CARVE IT. 

He stared absent-mindedly at the viewscreen in front of him as they flew, and he was the only one watching when the white flash stole the rest of space. 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Spock, you have the conn, and if you leave the captain’s chair I’m throwing you in the brig for mutiny.” 

“Captain, I do not think---,” Spock started, but Jim cut him off. The rest of the bridge crew was staring at him, half horrified, half impressed. 

“We are in a dimension we don’t understand. Our shields are failing. Scotty is going to ask for help. Spock, under no fucking circumstances are you to fulfill that request. Am I clear?” 

Spock held his gaze, and Jim knew that he was percolating a loophole for himself to do what he thought was most logical without technically disobeying a direct order. Uhura said softly, “I have Scotty on the line.” 

“Ignore him,” Jim said, and he got in the turbolift. “Observatory.”

The wide windows of the Observatory only showed the blankness beyond the ship, and Jim hated it. He sat cross-legged in front of the window and closed his eyes. 

Alright. I’m listening. Help me.

JAMESKIRK WE SEE YOU WE KNOW YOU WE WANT TO HELP. THIS PLACE IS NOT FOR YOU YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. 

Okay. I get that. Where are we?

There was a screeching noise inside his head. NOT TIME NOT SPACE NOT TOUCH BUT BEYOND. WE HOLD YOU IN PLACE HOLD YOU STILL SO THAT YOU MIGHT LEAVE THE WAY YOU CAME. 

How did we get here?

MISTAKE. ERROR. The screeching noise again. Jim clapped his hands over his ears but it didn’t help. TRAPPED IN TIME INSECT IN AMBER UNLESS REVERSED.

How do we reverse? 

Screeching. FORCE. NUCLEAR FORCE TO CLEAR screeching TRACTION FRICTION FLY ONWARD

We need to set off a nuclear reaction to get clear?

YES.

Could I do it now? 

NO NO NOT TODAY NO TIME MUST BE BEFORE WRINKLE IN TIME

What wrinkle?

Uhura’s panicked voice came over the comm. “Captain! We need you!” 

He grabbed his comm and flipped it open. “What’s wrong?” 

“It’s Spock!” 

THAT WRINKLE.��

Bones beat Jim to the bridge, and by the time Jim arrived to see Bones on his knees pounding on Spock’s ribcage, he knew it was too late. Somehow, this was worse than Spock dying for the crew by fixing the shields. Spock dying for no fucking reason was the worst of all possible outcomes, and he hadn’t even considered that keeping Spock from dying outside the ship wouldn’t keep Spock from dying in general.

“He just collapsed,” Uhura sobbed into her hands. She was turned away from the body, shoulders shaking, hunched over the science station. Spock’s body was utterly still, his face smooth, eyebrows relaxed. The healthy green tinge beneath his skin had been leached away. 

TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW BEFORE HE [and ‘he’ wasn’t a word, so much as the impression of warm skin, green blood, Jim’s arms around his waist in their bathroom, the warmth in Jim’s stomach when Spock raised his eyebrow at him] LEAVES THE THREAD 

I get it, Jim thought, and lowered himself to the ground next to Spock’s body to take his hand in his own. Blow up the ship before Spock dies. 

SAVE YOUR SPOCK. SAVE YOUR SHIP. 

At least it seemed like his 5-D friends had the same priorities that he did. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Stardate 2238.12, again. Jim hugged Spock in the bathroom again upon confirming that Spock was alive. Spock rested his chin on Jim’s head for two seconds before pulling back and asking if Jim was okay.

Jim skipped his shift on the bridge to go down to Engineering, but Scotty called security and Spock on him when Jim said that they needed to blow up the ship to save everyone. Spock walked him back to his quarters and they played chess until Spock clutched at his chest and keeled over onto Jim’s couch. Jim sat with his cooling body until he fell asleep.

☆ ☆ ☆

Stardate 2238.12, again. Jim sat on the counter and waited for Spock to wake up and enter the bathroom. 

“Come here,” he said when Spock appeared, soft-edged and sleepy-eyed. Spock did, approaching him with the same trust that he always had when he looked at Jim, an expression that Jim hadn’t realized he had lost until he saw Spock’s still dead face on the bridge. 

“What can I help you with, captain?” 

Jim took Spock’s arm and pulled Spock close to him, until he was standing in between Jim’s legs. “Something terrible is happening,” he said honestly. “And I don’t know how to stop it. But this is the best part of my day, every day.” 

“What is, captain?” Spock did not pull his wrist from Jim’s grip. 

“Seeing you alive again every morning.” 

“Alive again?”

Jim pulled Spock closer and leaned in, resting his head against Spock’s chest. He didn’t dare breathe when Spock wrapped his arms around Jim’s back, holding him close. God, this was what he had wanted for ages and had never had the courage to ask for.

“I would hope that, if you ever needed my assistance in anything, you know that all you need to do is ask for it.” Spock’s hand drifted up and down the column of his spine. 

“Even if it sounds crazy?” 

“You imply that most of your ideas sound sane.” 

Jim laughed, and felt Spock’s heartbeat under his hands. 

JAMESKIRK YOU ARE WASTING YOUR TIME. HIS TIME. 

Come on. Give me another minute here. I’m busy. 

YOU WOULD HAVE THIS IF YOU ASKED FOR IT. 

Yeah? How do you know? 

Jim stiffened as he was blinded. No, he was not blind - he was seeing something that he didn’t understand. He felt that his body was still resting against Spock’s, who seemed content to hold him --- and that was something he would have to unpack later, but God did it feel good right now --- but before him he saw the Enterprise, floating through space, true black space. 

WE SEE YOU AS YOU MOVE, LIKE YOU MIGHT SEE ANTS ON THE SIDEWALK. But the vision zoomed in until he was seeing the blueprint of the Enterprise and all the little people inside going about their daily business, and there were golden threads of light tying all of them together. Some finger of attention drew his eye to the thickest ones: a line between him in the captain’s chair and Bones down in Medbay, one connecting Uhura to Nurse Chapel (oh, he was going to tease her about that later) and to Spock, and then --- 

The line between him and Spock was like a chain, thicker than even the panels of the Enterprise and shining like the sun. 

THE THREAD EXISTS IN YOUR DIMENSION BUT YOU DO NOT SEE IT. THIS THREAD TIES SPOCK TO YOU AND YOU MUST [screeching, an atomic blast] BEFORE [screeching, the snip sound of scissors, Spock collapsed on the floor of the bridge].

I understand. Send me back.

He blinked, and he was seated on the counter in the bathroom, and he was clutching Spock to him, who stroked one long-fingered hand over his hair. 

“You trust me?”

“To the end, captain.” 

“I have to tell you something insane.” 

Jim and Spock sat on the couch in Jim’s room, one of Spock’s hands clutched between Jim’s. Spock frowned, staring at the wall, wearing his concentration face.

“Are you familiar with the concept of a time-loop, captain?” 

“Theoretically, yeah. I didn’t think they existed. I always think of time as a wave.” 

“I don’t think there is a practical difference between a loop and a wave if a hand is pushing us to the same place every day, captain.” Spock’s free hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, pulling Jim’s full attention to him. “I will not remember this tomorrow.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spock’s eyes were serious. “You must tell me immediately that you are trapped in a time loop. It may not be accurate but it will be enough. As soon as you can. Wake me if you have to. I believe that you and I will be able to detonate the warp core if necessary, but we will need to dispatch Mr. Scott and the engineers to do it.” 

“How do I know that you’ll believe me?”

“Captain,” Spock said. “I trust you every day. Tomorrow will be no different.” Jim reeled. Half the time he was sure Spock still hated him and the other half he dropped lines that like that out of nowhere. His poor heart.

They were approaching Jim’s least favorite time of day. 

“I feel your apprehension growing,” Spock said. “Is it almost time?”

“Yes,” Jim whispered. 

“I have never experienced death before,” Spock mused. “I imagine it is akin to falling asleep.” He shifted until he was laying down on the couch, and Jim pulled him until his head rested on Jim’s thigh. 

“It may be less traumatic for you if I simply drift off instead,” Spock said.

“Doubt it,” Jim said, but they laid there and breathed together until Spock’s chest stopped moving and Jim fell asleep with his hand in Spock’s hair. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Stardate 2238.12, again. Jim woke up before his alarm and for the first time in however many days, he had hope. He barged through the bathroom and into Spock’s room. Spock was asleep, curled up like a pillbug on his bed. Jim only allowed himself one second of adoration before shaking Spock’s shoulder. 

Spock looked confused for one-half of a second before recognizing Jim. “Captain. What is the matter?”

Jim looked into Spock’s eyes and rolled the dice. “I’m trapped in a time loop, Spock. I need your help.” 

For one horrifying second, Jim thought that Spock was going to suplex him to the ground and call Bones for assistance. But then Spock asked, “Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Spock flung the blankets back. Holy shit, he slept in just his boxers? Did he put pajamas on over them every day before entering the bathroom? “Then we must act quickly. Do you have any ideas on how to break it?”

God, Jim loved him. I’m going to tell him. “Yes,” he said. “We have to blow up the Enterprise with us on it, though.” 

Spock hesitated only for a moment before pulling his uniform on. “Fascinating.” 

They had almost made it before one of Scotty’s engineers, hidden in a jeffries tube, punched the emergency button and had Spock and Jim thrown into the brig. 

“I suggest we request Dr. McCoy’s assistance tomorrow,” Spock said thoughtfully. 

“Yeah? Why?” 

“Because he seems to be the most likely, besides myself, to believe you.” 

When Spock frowned and rubbed at his chest a few hours later, Jim took his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise.” Spock died with his head pillowed on Jim’s thigh again. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Stardate 2238.12, again. Bones had asked Jim, “What the fuck?” multiple times until Spock said, “Please, Leonard,” and then Bones agreed to help. The three of them got closer than Spock and Jim had, but Bones tripped a security alarm hacking a control panel and the three of them were thrown into the brig. 

Spock lay quietly in the corner. Jim wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not. 

“Jim,” Bones said quietly. “You okay?”

“He’ll be back tomorrow, Bones,” Jim said, and ran his hand over Spock’s shoulder. Bones only raised an eyebrow at the contact, but didn’t force the issue. 

“This crew loves you, you know. Why don’t you give them the chance to prove how much they trust you?” 

“You really think that will work?” 

“You’ll never know unless you ask. What’s it matter if you fail, if you get to try again?” 

☆ ☆ ☆

Stardate 2238.12, again. Spock trusted him immediately. Bones trusted him immediately, but Jim could tell the decision was made easier by the fact that Spock had already decided to follow. The two devils on my shoulders, he thought, and he went to the bridge. 

Uhura, Chekov, Sulu… his friends. The people he trusted most in the world. They were already at their seats, ready for another day of exploring the galaxy together, with him at their helm. 

“Morning,” he said. “I need to tell you all something.” 

“You’re about to owe me thirty credits,” Sulu said to Chekov. “Fuck off,” Chekov said to Sulu. 

“Does anyone here know what a time loop is?”

Spock and Bones looked at each other, and each raised a hand. 

“Besides you two.” 

Uhura looked suspicious. Sulu looked confused. But Chekov said, “Yes, keptin! I am being wery familiar with the concept. It was discowered by a Russian physicist, you know.” 

Jim took a deep breath and planted his hands on his waist. “Well, we’re trapped in one.” 

There was a minute of silence. Jim tried not to let his face show any fear. “Is this a practical joke, Jim? It’s not very funny,” Uhura said. “Spock, is he serious?”

“Indeed, Nyota. We are, in fact, trapped in a time loop.” 

YOUR FAMILY WILL BELIEVE YOU BUT YOU NEED TO MOVE MORE QUICKLY. THE WINDOW CLOSES. 

“If we’re in a trap, how do we get out?” Sulu crossed his arms over his chest. 

Jim grinned. Spock sighed through his nose. “That’s the best part,” Jim said. 

“Absolutely not, captain,” Scotty said. He stood between his lady’s engine and the rest of the bridge crew. JAMESKIRK THE WINDOW CLOSES. THE THREAD WILL UNRAVEL. MOVE FASTER. 

“Scotty, I’m sorry, I promise that if there were any other way I would take it. But this is our way out. I’ve done this before and this is it.” 

Scotty’s eyes flicked from Jim to Spock. “Mr. Spock, you’re in on this?”

“I am certain of the captain’s logic and evidence, if that is what you are asking.”

“But if you’re wrong, Jim…” 

“I know. I know. If I’m wrong, we all die. But if we don’t break out, Scotty… we all die anyway. Would you rather die in an escape attempt or be fried?” Scotty blanched at the phrase ‘fried.’ 

“I don’t feel right about this,” he said. “If it were just us, your friends, that would be one thing. But there’re hundreds others on this ship, captain.” Jim knew that. Jim knew that. He felt the weight of them every day. 

“We could put it to a vote,” Uhura said. 

“What?”

“Tell the crew. We tell the crew as much as we can. We are in danger, we are going to do something more dangerous. If you trust the captain, vote aye. If not, vote nay.” 

Spock said, “That is an illogical use of time, Nyota.” 

“No, Spock, she’s right. We vote, and if the ayes have it, I’m the one to blow the ship. Everyone else gets the rest of the day off. Send them to rec rooms, or to be with each other. I’ll do the dirty work if they trust me enough to do it.” 

JAMESKIRK YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT.

Please. Hold us long as you can. This is my crew we’re gambling with. 

WE WILL TRY BUT YOU MUST HURRY.

Uhura nodded, and handed Jim the comm microphone. He cleared his throat. “Attention, all crew members. This is your captain speaking. I know that today so far has been a normal day, just like any other. But you’re about to receive a padd message from Communications, and I need you to pay attention.” He cued Uhura to send the ballot. “It would take too long to explain what’s going on, but I promise that if we make it out I will explain everything. I have to ask you for your trust, now. I hope I’ve earned it, but I understand if I haven’t. To protect you, and protect this ship, I think we need to do something dangerous. I believe, one hundred percent, that this is the best way to see us all through to safety. But I am just one man, and I have been wrong before. I’ll probably be wrong again. But today I ask you for to vote for if you trust me or not to do something a little reckless in the hopes that it saves all of us from a much greater danger.

If you vote yes and we don’t survive, I hope you know that being your captain has been the greatest honor of my life. If you vote no and we do survive, well… the next round is on me. I can only do what I think is best for each and every one of you, and right now that means I need your trust. Kirk out.”

Jim sat in the captain’s chair and bit his nails as the votes came in. It only took fifteen minutes for all the votes to arrive and Uhura’s program to sort them. “It’s unanimous, captain,” she said softly. 

“Well, then,” he said, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had thought the results didn’t matter, but this stung. This hurt. “I guess we’ll figure something else out.” 

“Jim,” Spock said. “You misunderstand.” 

“What?” Jim took Uhura’s padd when she offered it to him, and he did not understand the numbers that he saw before him. YES: 547. NO: 0. His bridge crew, his family, was kind enough to ignore him when he wiped a hand across his teary eyes.

JAMESKIRK YOU MUST HURRY. YOU MUST HURRY. YOUR SPOCK’S TIME IS RUNNING OUT. He looked up in alarm. Spock looked pale, but was still upright. He had to go.

“That’s it, then,” he said. “I’m going to blow us up. I love you all.” 

“Love you,” Uhura said, and before he could let himself think too much about what he was doing, Jim turned and left. 

“Engineering,” he whispered to the turbolift, and it carried him away. 

For all the magnificent science it took to get the Enterprise off the ground and through space, it took very little finesse to blow her up. Jim jammed a few breakers, overloaded a few systems, and charged the engines to attempt warp after breaking the impulse control gear to ‘on.’ Then he settled in to wait for the end.

Thanks for your help, he thought. 

YOU ARE LOVED JAMESKIRK GO BACK TO YOUR UNIVERSE AND LIVE. KEEP THE THREAD.

The turbolift door opened behind him. “Captain,” Spock said. “Do you require assistance?” 

“No, Spock, I’m good.” He gestured at the destruction he had wrought. There was a nuclear bomb charging beneath his feet, and he felt pretty good about it, all things considered. Either his crew trusted him to the end and beyond, and he would get to hug all of them about it tomorrow, or his crew trusted him to the end and he would never have to know that he let them down. Not a bad way to go for a starship captain. “You can go back to the bridge, it’s okay.” 

“Do you want me to leave you, captain?”

That was a specific question. It’s now or never, I guess. He blinked. “No, Spock. Please stay.” Spock inclined his head and came to stand next to him, reading over the engineering console. 

“Brutal, yet effective,” he said. Spock’s dark eyes were liquid in the reflected light of the console. His hands were elegant, and effective, and strong. He radiated heat. He came to help, as he always had. Jim loved him so much he thought he’d drown in it. 

“Why did you tell Scotty you were certain of the evidence? I thought Vulcans couldn’t lie,” he blurted out.

“It was not a lie, Jim.” 

“But I didn’t give you any.” 

Spock looked at him the same way he did when he was about to call checkmate; the same way he did before he threw Jim to the mat during sparring matches; the same way he did when they found each other’s eyes across the bridge in the middle of a firefight and knew their next move without speaking aloud. “You are evidence enough,” Spock said. 

Spock’s hand rested on the console, and Jim placed his over it. “This whole thing has been shitty beyond belief… but I have to be grateful for it. It saved you,” he said. “If we weren’t stuck in it, you would have died for good on the first day. I think I knew before, how I felt about you. Feel about you. But it was only when I thought that I would never get to tell you that I realized it fully.” 

Spock turned his hand over and laced his fingers with Jim’s. “Realized what, Jim?”

“That I’m fucking in love with you.” 

Spock kissed him. He pulled Jim to him by their clasped hands, and his other hand came up to cradle the back of Jim’s head like it was something precious, and his mouth was hot against Jim’s. 

BE SAFE, JAMESKIRK. YOU ARE LOVED. WE HOPE TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN BUT WE ARE GLAD THAT WE MET. YOU ARE DOING THE RIGHT THING. GO HOME.

Thank you for everything, he thought, and the Enterprise exploded. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Jim woke up. If I am in my fucking quarters I’m just walking out the airlock until this whole mess is over, he thought. But he was trapped beneath something warm and heavy, and the ground beneath him felt like a metal grate.

He opened his eyes. He was flat on his back in Engineering, and the Enterprise hummed happily around him. Spock lay draped on top of him, still asleep. His head rose and fell with each of Jim’s breaths. 

“Oh, my fucking god,” he breathed out. Spock startled awake at his voice.

“Jim,” he said, and his voice was deep and raspy with sleep. “Captain.” 

“It worked,” Jim said, and Spock looked around him. 

“We were successful?” 

“What stardate is it?”

Spock blinked. “2238.13.” Jim whooped with joy and leapt to his feet, dragging Spock with him. 

“The loop is broken!” He swung Spock around, and the Vulcan let him, holding onto both of his hands. 

“Wait,” Jim said, and his stomach dropped. “How much do you remember?” Oh, god, if I am the only person that remembers any of this I am going to lose my mind for good. 

But Spock’s eyes glinted in the lights as he pulled Jim close and kissed him softly on the mouth. Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck and dropped his head back, laughing. 

Above them, the turbolift door opened and his bridge crew tumbled out. He heard them talking over each other about wormholes, how they’d ended up lightyears from where they were, how their records of the previous day had been edited to say “do not return.” He heard them call his name.

He caught Spock’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He would release Spock for now, if he wanted to keep whatever this was private, but Spock’s eyes were only on him. He brushed Jim’s hair back off his forehead and kissed his temple.  Above him, through the laughter and shouting and joy, over the rumble of the Enterprise around him and the ambience of a ship filled with crew, he heard Sulu and Chekov exchanging credits.

#spirk fan fiction #k/s #kirk/spock #aos kirk/spock #spirktober 2023 #spirktober2023 #spirktober #groundhog day au #star trek fan fiction #k/s fan fiction #my writing #idk how to tag things

[fuckyeahfanfictions]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Sheriff Stilinski, Greenberg (Teen Wolf), Allison Argent, Adrian Harris Additional Tags: Groundhog Day, Humor, Some angst, #foxysterektrash, Adaptation Summary:

Stiles Stilinksi is having the worst day ever. Over and over again.

aka The Groundhog Day AU you've been waiting for!

#sterek #discontentedwinter #ficrec #groundhog day au

[lightning-chicken]

Hi key! For the fanfiction ask game, what about the word “blaze” or “throw”?

HELLO!!! welcome to the lockbox :D

i couldn’t find blaze, so as compensation, you get two for throw!

first up: from chapter 3 of ptppbt

Buffeted by the roaring wind, Jay staggered from side to side. At one particularly strong gust, he lost his footing and crashed down to the floor, too deafened by the whispers to react in time and throw his hands out.

Jay’s face hit the dirt.

“…ind me, find me me me me—”

and for the second, an (as of yet) unnamed groundhog day au:

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Be—

Nya slams a hand down on her alarm clock, grumbling to herself. FSM, she hates that noise. But it’s effective (it wakes her up—and Kai too, to her eternal amusement), and the thought of throwing it against a wall gives her motivation to drag herself out of bed.

While trying to extract herself from her bed, Nya gets caught in her bedsheets, and thuds onto the floor. Just as graceful as ever. Slowly moving into a sitting position, she rubs her back, wincing as it pops loudly. She really needs to start being more careful. 

#thanks for the ask!! #if anyone’s curious about the groundhog day au feel free to ask about it #putting the puzzle pieces back together #jay walker #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #nya smith #kai smith #groundhog day au #key’s conversations #opening the lockbox #key’s fics #key’s aus #walloper tag!