#really should have figured that out earlier

[day-dreamed]

oblivious

pairing: bob reynolds x f!reader summary: in which the rest of the team figures out that you and bob are dating before either of you do. tags: fluff, idiots in love, pre-relationship pining, food mention word count: 795

It’s no secret that you and Bob are attached at the hip. Wherever one of you is, the other is sure to be in the general vicinity. You’ve never thought about how your relationship must look to the rest of the team. 

Not until one night, when you’re sitting on the couch with him and watching a movie. You’re curled into his side, head resting in the crook of his neck. Nothing seems out of the ordinary until Alexei walks in and grins at the two of you. 

“Look at the two lovebirds!”

You nearly choke on your own spit. Bob goes rigid next to you. 

“What?” you cough, reaching for the remote to pause the movie. 

“You two are dating, are you not?” Alexei asks loudly, eyebrows furrowing.

Your face burns. “Oh, my god. No, we’re not dating—”

“Dating?” Bob squeaks. “You think we’re dating?”

Alexei nods. “Well, yes. But you say you are not?” 

You shake your head. “No, we’re… we’re not dating, Alexei.” 

“Interesting. Very interesting, indeed. I must speak to Lena about this.”

You stare after him as he walks out of the room. Then you turn to Bob, whose face has turned a deep shade of red. “Did that really just happen?” 

He nods and smiles weakly. “I think so.”

“Why do you think he wanted to talk to Yelena?” you wonder. 

Bob shrugs. “I—I’m not sure.”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t think they’re talking about us, do you? Oh, god. What if they all think that we’re dating?” You pause. “We’re not, right?” 

“What?” he stammers. “No, of course not. We’re just close friends, that’s all.”

You aren’t sure why your heart sinks. “Right. Of course not.” 

The next morning, Yelena approaches you in the kitchen. “I think we need to talk.” 

“About what?” you ask, frowning. 

“You and Bob.” 

You freeze, your knife hovering over the rest of the avocado you were about to slice. “What’s there to talk about?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why did you say you are not dating each other?” 

“Because we aren’t, okay? It’s not that hard to understand,” you say.

“You are an idiot.” 

You narrow your eyes at her. “How am I an idiot?” 

A smile tugs at Yelena’s lips. “You both are idiots, actually.” 

“Thanks, that makes it so much better,” you huff. “Is terrorizing me the only reason you came into the kitchen?”

She shakes her head. “I cannot believe you don’t see it.” 

“See what?” you ask, but she’s already leaving. 

The rest of your morning is spent in utter confusion, replaying your conversation with Yelena in your mind to see what you might have missed. As you retreat to your room to get dressed, your thoughts drift to Bob, and your heart flutters as it always does when you think of him. You wonder if any other members of the team are treating him as weirdly as Yelena did you after last night. The question brings you to his bedroom door, which you knock on gently.

Bob swings it open, a smile lighting up his face the instant his eyes meet yours. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” you echo. “Can I… Can I come in?” He nods, stepping aside so you can enter, shutting the door softly behind you. “I think we should talk.” 

His brows pinch together. “Sure. About what?” 

You shuffle your feet. “Yelena asked me about you earlier.” 

“She did? Why?”

“Well, she—she asked about us dating.”

A blush crawls up Bob’s neck and reaches the tips of his ears. “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly. 

He scratches the back of his neck. “Um… Bucky talked to me, too. About you.” 

Your heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“I think… I think we might be dating,” he says, voice rising in pitch at the end, making it come out more as a question than a statement.

You stare at him. “What?” 

“Us. Dating. Together,” Bob stammers. 

Hearing him say it has your stomach doing somersaults. “Is that—is that something you want?” you ask, voice small, hesitant.

A shy smile curves his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Me too,” you say softly.

Bob steps toward you until he’s inches away, taking your hand with his and intertwining your fingers together. “Is… Is this okay?” 

“More than.”

When he tugs you out of his bedroom and into the common room, the rest of the team is there to greet you. All of their eyes zero in on your still interlocked hands. 

“Way to go Bobby,” Walker says, wearing a shit-eating grin. 

Bucky gives a nod of approval, and Yelena and Ava share a knowing look with each other. Before you or Bob can open your mouth to explain, Alexei beats you to it.

“Yes! Finally, they are dating!”

[itseasytoremember]

[[For ease of reading, and so don't annoy everyone with more excessively long posts, I've posted the entirety of the story under the cut]]

Day 2

I feel like I'm going to want to start logging these posts. If for nothing else than a log of Things I Tried that DID NOT work. We will call this day 2 because I started writing this log yesterday. Or not yesterday, but like, last today. Yestertoday. Yestoday. This is dumb. Anyways.

My plan did not go to... Plan.

Let me explain the problem first, and then I'll explain my "plan."

A few loops ago, before I knew it was a loop, I figured I would skip my morning workout in the hopes of getting to work early, because "there was a lot of traffic on First st. these last few days" I hadn't yet realized it was always the SAME traffic.

Anyways I left early and sure enough there was no traffic. I was actually at the red when I saw the guy for the first time, he seemed distracted, he kept looking at his phone and then whipping his head around, clearly he was looking for something and, by the amount of sweat on his forehead, he had been for a while. I only really noticed the guy because every other person I could see was looking at him too. The crossing guard, the kids, their parents, the people at the cafe, everyone was looking at the dude having a really bad day. He wasn't exactly being subtle is what I'm getting at.

All of a sudden he looks across the street and gets this big relieved look, seemed to find whatever it was he was looking around for, and headed toward it. It's just unfortunate that the light had changed while he looked at his phone.

No one had time to react, to even say anything. One second twe were all watching some guy act out the 5 stages of grief at 7:35 am, the next a Ford F-150 turned him into paint.

So, my plan was this; to stop that from happening.

I'll admit it's not the most thorough plan but I figure what it lacks in steps, it makes up for in adaptability.

Today, I made it there just as the man was looking up from his phone, maybe 45 seconds later than the day before, which meant I was still early enough to get out of my car, run into the road and yell "HEY STOP" but decidedly not early enough to then avoid the fucking truck myself. Oh also, the guy still got hit. He ran onto the road, I guess to try to help me, and a BMW took his legs out. The bastard. What was he going to do? Reattach my spine?

Well I'm back in bed at home so I'll take that as suspicions: confirmed re:timeloop.

I'm going to go to work now, after that I'll figure out a plan to get to the intersection earlier.

Day 3: I'm stupid

Why the fuck was I still going to work. Yesterday I TRIED to warn my boss about his paper coffee cup having a bad seam, and when he rolled his eyes and took a sip, thus spilling coffee on himself YET again, he tried to make it MY fault. He said I somehow distracted him? I went back to my office thinking one day I should find a better way to spend my life once I'm out of this loop when it hit me, and man do I feel dumb. 9-5 for the last I don't even know how many actual days. I could have been planning. I could have been doing anything other than finance. So I quit. I mean it won't matter tomorrow but I've decided to stop going in regardless.

I'm going to spend the next few days experimenting. Currently I wake up with my alarm at 6:30, which gives me one hour to put into action my plan, my first goal is to try and extend that time as much as I can.

The morning after my brush with a pickup's grill, my neck and back were achy for about an hour, which leads me to believe that my body remembers something of the last days events, even if after a while they fade. I'm going to first try staying up all night, to see if I can just start the day at midnight, and failing that, I'm going to try the exciting plan of going to bed early and drinking loads of water, because changing my phone's alarm won't do anything as it will reset every morning anyways.

I'll make sure to keep note of anything interesting over the next few loops, but I doubt I'll make much actual progress. Still, this log ensures I remember what happened, every detail, so I can change it. why? Why not spend eternity trying to save a life.

Day 7

Okay staying up doesn't work. The second I pass midnight I pass out, waking up at my usual time, just a little more tired and sluggish than usual. I run the risk of actually sleeping through my alarm and losing precious minutes. Lacey's alarm actually woke me up the first time I tried it.

Chugging water just meant I had to rush to the bathroom when I woke up, but it was still my alarm waking me.

Weirdly, going to bed early was the the thing that did the trick. I didn't have much hope in this working, but Lacey has been going to bed early for the last 20 years of our marriage and she's always up well before her alarm, so I figured it couldn't hurt to try.

Now it's not like I'm gaining hours, but yesterday I went to bed at 9:00 pm and I'm currently writing this at 6:25 am. Is going to bed 2.5 hours early worth it for 5 extra minutes in the morning? Usually I'd say no, but this isn't a usual situation. 5 extra minutes might be the difference I need.

5 minutes does, unfortunately seem to be the max I can get though, two days ago I tried going to bed at 8:30 and all I got for it was a weird look from Lacey. If anything, It took me longer to fall asleep than at 9, and so I ended up actually sleeping in a few minutes before I realized what I was doing.

The guy steps into the path of the truck at exactly 7:35am, meaning I have 1 hour and 10 minutes to stop that from happening every day. That means prep, getting there, and execution of my plan must require a maximum of 70 minutes, including the 34 minutes it take for me to drive there.

Actually I wonder if there is a better route. I'm going to try a few different paths over the next couple loops, and keep note of which one is fastest.

Okay, my alarm just went off, I'm gonna try getting there early and just tackling the guy. Maybe I'm overthinking it and it's just that simple.

Day 8: it was NOT that simple.

So I tried just running up and tackling the guy. Apparently some people don't appreciate being, in bystanders words, "chased by a guy who ran out of his car."

So, when the guy RAN AWAY FROM THE MAN TRYING TO SAVE HIS LIFE, and INTO TRAFFIC, everyone made it seem like it was somehow MY fault, and I spent the rest of the day in a holding cell. I called Lacey to bail me out, but I couldn't reach her at work and they only allowed me one phone call. I suppose I could have sped up the wait by hanging myself in my cell or something dramatic like that but that just doesn't feel right to me.

Maybe if I keep getting arrested, sure, but it wasn't actually all that bad once the processing was done. I did what I imagine you are supposed to do in jail; I thought about what landed me in that position and how to prevent it from happening again. That left me with a few things I'm going to have to consider moving forward if I want to save this guy and also continue on with my life as normal.

Which, is still a time loop, but, again, I'm fine with routine. I'm also finding that I'm perfectly content with this situation now that I've found something interesting to do with my days. "Day". That's still annoying.

Okay here's my list of Things I Considered In Jail:

- I shouldn't resort to anything that can get me arrested, injured (or killed) or otherwise caught up in unnecessary shenanigans.

- If I get caught in a lie, remember what the person said, I can try again next time round. confidence works wonders.

- I should figure out the guys name, what he does, where he is headed etc, you are more likely to look and listen, rather than RUN INTO TRAFFIC, if the guy yelling at you is not yelling but instead calling your name, smiling and waving.

- On that note, be friendly and get there early. I was over thinking my prep and under thinking my follow through. Get up and out of bed, I can speed a little as long as I don't get pulled over, and get there and PARK your car.

Okay writing this out has given me more confidence in my next attempt. I probably won't update this log until I've made some progress.

Day 13

YES! PROGRESS!

First is that the guys name is Ben. The second, and indisputably bigger discovery, is that Ben does something different every day! Different! Meaning not looping! Or not perfectly looping at least. He’s still dying every day, which I’m not crazy about, but he definitely feels like he’s connected to the loop. It’s not anything big, but I’ve noticed he will have his phone in a different pocket from one loop to another, or he will arrive from a different direction. Recently he’s started to have this look of familiarity to me, even though before this he was a complete stranger to me.

I’ve optimised my morning routine and route to the intersection as much as possible, but Ben coming from different directions every loop means I have no way of preemptively stopping him. Just that he shows up on the south east corner looking frantic, checking his phone, he sees something, and walks across the street as the light changes. Honk boom splat and the day resets.

Actually now that I write that down it feels correct to me. I have no idea why I’m looping this one day over and over, maybe I’m not the only one. Maybe this is connected, maybe it isn’t. It doesn’t actually change anything if they are, because I still have no idea what caused this, or is saving Ben will actually do anything at all.

I’m not super proud of how I got his name to be honest. I tried to get Ben’s attention with the, “don’t I know you from somewhere?” line, but he politely excused himself from the conversation right into the path of an oncoming bus.

I was about to just run and call the cycle a bust, but I noticed that, the way the guys jacket fell, I could actually see his wallet in the breast pocket.

So… I pickpocketed a dying guy. TO SAVE HIS LIFE, still didn’t feel great. At least I didn’t get caught and end up in jail again.

Ben Morriston. He has a driver’s license and a student ID. Huh, he’s in med school. Ok doctor Ben. Nice to meet you. How do I keep you alive?

Day 21

I haven't made a log in a while because I haven't really made any progress, that is, until today. made an assumption about this that was absolutely screwing me over, but I figured out what it was and I've fixed the problem;

My mistake was being overly familiar with Ben. My first attempt at calling his name out worked to stop him, but once he asked me how I knew him he immediately sussed out that I didn't actually have an answer to that. That led him to getting really freaked out, he tried to run, he ran onto the street, and a car hit him again.

I realize now that I assumed Ben would be more receptive to someone he knew, which may be true, but I also assumed I had the ability to convince him I am someone he knows, which I don't.

So going forward I'm going to keep lying to an absolute minimum, not only because I'm bad at it, but it's unnecessary. “Hi, you look lost, can I help you?” I should also try to figure out where he's actually headed...

Day 27

Ben is going to the hospital! Not currently, I'll get to that, but that is where he is headed when I encounter him.

Ben is currently very much dead. Turns out traffic is not the only thing I need to worry about.

I had managed to both stop him from wandering into traffic and figure out his desired location, but unfortunately for both of us, we had hardly made half a block when a rogue AC unit fell out a window, filling an area of space previously occupied by poor Ben's head.

The loop before the AC unit, it was a tire that had rolled out of a mechanics shop that took him out. Before that, a falling hammer from a construction site.

The guy has fallen into the sewer because of improperly placed manhole covers, he's tripped on a rolling skateboard and broken his neck, he's been pushed into a pane of glass, and had a pane of glass fall on him. If we are both stuck in a loop he has the much worse deal. I've seen so much blood and death at this point I'm not even reacting anymore. But if I get it right even one time and he lives maybe it'll all be worth it.

Tomorrow I'm going to start wearing an ID badge I got from a conference years ago. The badge is expired but that doesn't matter, what matters is it's on a lanyard from St Joseph's hospital. The same hospital Ben is headed to.

What benefit? No one questions someone 1. With what looks like a hospital ID badge and 2. Calling them by their full legal name.

I'm not fucking around with this any more. Ben is getting in my car and I'll drive him myself to the hospital.

Day 29

Yesterday I got Ben to the hospital. He listened to me, got into the car, and I drove him there without a hitch.

He thanked me repeatedly and ran inside, and I followed him in just to make sure the whole building didn't explode or something.

Turns out Ben needed to get to the hospital because his wife was in labor. He made it just in time. Him, his wife, the baby, everyone was safe and sound.

I was in the waiting room, i didn't want to be in anyone's way but it didn't feel right leaving, so I was just sitting there when Ben ran into the hallway to get me.

Ben thanked me again, he hugged me and told me he was so happy I could be there with him. He looked at me and it was like I had known him his entire life. I told him truthfully that I was so happy I could help get where he was going, and that he should go be with his family. He insisted that he was, and asked if I wanted to meet his son.

It was an odd but beautiful moment, and I'm happy I was allowed to experience it. Afterwards, I went home to Lacey, and we went to bed.

The loop didn't end. I woke up with my alarm to find that everything was back as it was yesterday. That's fine with me. I'm going to go pick Ben up now, and I think after that I'll surprise Lacey with lunch at work. You, the thing they don't tell you about being stuck in a time loop is it's really not all that bad.

---

A newspaper obituary:

Joseph Duncan Morriston, Toronto, age 89, died peacefully at St Joseph's hospital, surrounded by his family and friends. Joe was always a kind soul who, after witnessing a catastrophic car accident, left a lucrative career on finance to become an EMT, where he saved countless lives and developed several procedures himself that are now considered best practices in care and ambulance driving.

Joe is survived by his son, Dr. Ben Morriston, and his grandson, Duncan Morrison, who was delivered at St Josephs just two days before Joe's passing.

Joe will interred at St James cemetery beside his wife, Lacey Morriston (1935-2023).

A public celebration of life will be held at the Etobicoke community centre, with anyone whose life was touched by Joe being welcome to come and share a story with the family.

Joe's family has kindly requested that, in lieu of flowers, those inclined may donate to the Alzheimer's Association of Canada.

---

UPDATE FOR OBITUARY POSTED YESTERDAY JOSEPH MORRISTON:

DUE TO AN OUTPOURING OF FEEDBACK BY THOSE JOE HAS HELPED, THE CELEBRATION OF LIFE HAS BEEN MOVED TO THE HARBORFRONT CENTRE, WHICH HAS BEEN KINDLY DONATED BY THE CITY, TO ACCOMMODATE THE LARGER CROWD EXPECTED.

The Thing They Don't Tell You About Being Stuck in a Time Loop

The first time round the time loop was honestly fine. Same with the second and the third. Honestly I didn't even realize i was in a time loop until day 7 or 8, and that was because the statistical chances of my boss spilling his coffee on himself, while in and of itself is not low, became exceedingly strained as the days went on.

But if it weren't for that, I probably would have never realised I was looping. Mock me all you like, I enjoy routine, I thrive with it, and so, yes, it may have taken me a little longer to realize my day was looping, but I would also argue that I am much less likely to succumb to some sort of mental break due to this situation. To some, I could imagine being stuck in a loop of one day would get boring, or even horrifying, I am not one of those people. Not only that, I was lucky enough to be stuck in a loop of a day in mid May, with decent weather, in my home city, with the woman I love. If it weren't for the fact that it's a work day, It would be perfect.

That and the man who keeps getting hit by cars.

The first time it happened I didn't notice. I feel terrible saying that but the first few days I was still going through things as though it was a normal day, and normally I take about 60 minutes from wakeup to leaving the house for work, which meant that by the time I would make it to the intersection where it happened, the car had been moved to the side of the road, and all I dealt with was a bit of traffic.

It wasn't until I started testing the parameters of the loop, breaking my routine, that I figured out what even caused the accident, but more on that later. For now, I have a plan to try and save this guy. I don't know why, but I feel like that's important. That he's important.

And I mean, what do I have to lose? Some time?

[dreamakizz]

summertime in tokyo ⋆☀︎. riki maus

a rooftop sunset picnic with your bestfriend turns into something… different🗼🖤

containing: idol!maki x best-friend!reader, fluff into VERY suggestive, no explicit smut but it’s almost there if you squint, kinda public?? wc: couldn’t tell ya i’m so sorry :( songs are at the bottom!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the city simmered in the glow of golden hour, a soft gust of wind falling over the secluded rooftop of your apartment building, that only you had the privilege to use.

you were already there, curled on the blanket with bare legs stretched toward the skyline, the hem of your sundress swaying gently with the breeze. the sun was caught in your hair, setting it ablaze in a lighter color than usual, and when he finally arrived (late. as always) his breath caught in his throat, and not from running up three flights of stairs.

“you’re late,” you say without looking at him, still staring into the sunset.

he dropped the bag of fruits and desserts beside you and sat down, close enough for his shoulder to brush against yours. “you’re early,” he shoots back.

“i’m punctual. you’re dramatic.”

maki laughed but it faded quickly, replaced by a kind of unsettling silence that neither of you were ready to break.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you eat the snacks he brought, picking at the strawberries and sharing bites of the shortcake, pretending not to notice how often your knee touched his, or how every word felt like heavier than something so casual.

then maki pulled out his phone. “you remember this?”

the first notes of summertime in paris by jaden slipped through the speaker he brought in the bag, smooth and slow, wrapping around the two of your like heat in the air.

“you still listen to this?” you ask him.

“only when i think about you.”

it came out too easily.

you freeze at his comment, but he doesn’t take it back.

“honestly?” he says, his voice lower now, “i’ve been thinking about you way more than i should.”

the breeze lifts up the corner of your dress, and he tried not to stare. he really tried.

you tilt your head at him, eyes narrowing in playful curiosity. “oh yeah? what kind of thinking are we talking about?”

maki shifts closer to you. “the kind that keeps me up at night.”

your lips parted, the breath between them electric.

“i constantly go from being on a stage full of screaming people,” he murmurs, eyes on your lips now, “to complete silence in a hotel room. all i want is to feel something real. someone real. i want you.

you don’t answer right away… but you lean in, just enough to tangle your legs while his hand found the bare skin above your knee.

“you could’ve told me earlier riki,” you say softly. “we’ve wasted so much time pretending.”

he brushed a thumb along your thigh, slow. deliberately.

“we have tonight.”

and then he kissed you. slow. hungry. unhurried. like he had all the time in the world to figure out exactly how you taste.

and when the song started to play its final notes, the sun starting to dip behind the skyline, neither of you moved to leave.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the kiss lingered. open-mouthed and slow. threaded with the quiet ache of everything you haven’t said all these years. the rooftop around you seemed to fade until there was only skin, breath, and the soft echo of the song coming to an end, a new song starting.

as i just wanna by KALI starts playing, you both followed the emotion of the song, your kiss turning hungry.

his hands skimmed your waist, fingers slipped just beneath the fabric of your dress, tracing the skin that had been tempting him more this summer.

you shift closer, now straddling him, thighs pressing against his lips like gravity has now chosen sides.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he breathed, voice husky against your mouth.

your lips curve into a slight smile, “i think i have some idea..”

the city buzzed beneath you, but your world had shrunk to this rooftop. this moment with him. the way your fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, slipping beneath it.

maki lets you lift it, tossing it somewhere behind you. the warmth of your hands on his bare skin made him hiss. you were all soft curves and slow confidence, like you knew how far you could push him before he broke.

and he was almost there.

“is this okay?” he murmured against the curve of your neck, lips brushing against your skin with the lightest touch.

you arch into him, “it’s better than okay.”

his hands traveled achingly slow up your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress as he went, revealing more and more of you with every inch. you let him, your breathing becoming shallow and your body humming with anticipation.

“God,” he whispered when he finally took you in fully, the delicate lace of your set barely covering your body. “you wore this on purpose.”

you bit your lip, eyes dark and staring into his, “i was hoping you’d notice.”

he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand tangled in your hair while the other explored.. learning the language of your body like he’d been wanting to for months.

you gasp when he pressed into you, hips rolling together with slow, unspoken rhythm.

maki looks up at you, “tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

you didn’t say anything.

instead, you caught his lips in something hungry and deep. he took that as your answer.

his hands began to slip past the lace, making you inhale sharply and he lifts you up to place you on your back, laying on the soft blanket. the way he touched you was slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

you whisper his name.

twice.

and that was all it took.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the rest of both of your clothes came off in pieces, scattered across the rooftop like forgotten decisions until there was nothing left keeping you from each other. only heat and skin.

he pressed his forehead to yours, chest heaving, “you sure?”

you look at him, your body already wrapped around him, lips swollen and eyes glossy.

“i’ve never been more sure.”

and then..

silence.

not the absence of sound, but the kind that’s full of soft moans, quick breaths, and whispered confessions. the kind of silence where nothing else exists and time doesn’t pass.

this type of silence is what made you love summertime in tokyo.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ps. thank you so much for reading :) also my obsession with maki just gets worse and worse everyday someone help here are the songs named!!

[autocrats-in-love]

Can you do a prompt where the hero and villain are best friends but they don't know that the other is a hero/villain?

The Person You Know Best

The hero looked at the watch. Their roommate should be home any time now. The pair had a movie night planned. Living with your best friend had its perks. One of them was weekly movie nights. The hero might have also had a bit of a crush on them. But that was neither here nor there. The hero settled down further into the couch, pulling a blanket over their body. It was really comfortable. And the hero was so tired. Out the window, the sun had long set. This left the moon, scattered stars, and darkness behind. It had been a long day. The villain had decided to make their job extra difficult and coat large parts of the city in a viscous, slimy goo. It grew unless you doused it in insecticide. The hero had eventually managed to turn the slime on the villain, and cover them in it. But it had been an uncomfortably hands-on job. The hero had taken a long shower once they got home, but they still felt the chilly ghosts of crawling slime all over them. The disconcerting feeling was overpowered only by exhaustion. The hero slowly closed their heavy eyelids. Their best friend would wake them up when they got home. The hero was just taking a quick nap, anyway. . .

“Oh, screw this!”

The villain had long had quite enough of this stupid slime. What a terrible idea. Months of R and D, down the drain. The villain should have at least had the common sense to make themselves a slime-proof outfit. That way, they wouldn’t have had to spend the last two hours slowly trying to escape its grasp. They were covered in sticky green splotches, but they had all but their left foot out. For which the slime was refusing to cooperate. The villain tugged. Once more, nothing. The villain wiped their forehead. This was tough work. The authorities simply hadn’t been able to free the villain earlier. They figured there was no harm waiting until morning. The hero warned them not to, but it was half-hearted. The law enforcement in the city was laughable. The hero did half their job for them. The hero was right; the villain would free themselves before morning came. The villain just didn’t expect it to take such an embarrassingly long time.

The villain sighed, and accepted it: they were losing their shoe. It was such a good shoe--solid footing, good laces, fireproof exterior--but the villain wasn’t waiting around to get arrested. They wiggled around for a minute, but at last pulled out one socked food. Then they ran. They kept up their stumbling pace as they made their way home. It was a little ridiculous, frolicking around the city with one shoe. The villain eventually made it a block from their place. They found the usual secluded spot they did to change. It was a whole affair. The villain had half a mind to bill the hero for the shoe. Moreover, the hero had made them very late for a movie night with their best friend.

The hero was startled awake by the sound of the door slamming open. Their best friend rushed into the bathroom before the hero could say anything. When they emerged a few minutes later, they had washed their hair and face. They also looked just as tired as the hero. The hero moved their legs, so their best friend could sit down.

“Sorry I’m late,” their best friend said.

The hero yawned. “It’s fine. Tough day at work?”

Their best friend had late shifts sometimes.

Their best friend leaned back on the couch. “Something like that. What are we watching?”

“Something with vampires?”

Their best friend frowned. “No.”

“Please? I waited for you.”

There was a staring contest for a few seconds. But their best friend conceded. Like the hero knew they would.

“Fine.”

The hero smiled. They got up to find the movie they wanted. The villain stole their blanket in the meantime. And closed their eyes. The hero didn’t care. They leaned against the villain, who mumbled something. Movie nights weren’t really about the movie, anyway. It was about spending time together. It was about spending time with the person you knew most. Who knew everything about you. Or, almost everything. As the movie played, the hero felt themselves drift off again. Neither really minded.

[mewfistoe]

so this is another bit of that “we’re not dating but we also are dating/couple that’s not a couple” thing….

check out the end for an A/N on the dynamic and why they are the way that they are lmao

this time, you try to figure out Sylus’ hunter crush

———

The twins try to help. Really they do. They mean well. It’s just that, well, they’re young and impatient and the yearning is kind of driving them nuts. Anyway, one day, they get ahold of you at the Onychinus base and rope you into a conversation about Sylus. They heavily(HEAVILY) insinuate that the boss has a “crush” on a special hunter from the Association that you might be familiar with and well, this is the aftermath of that….

****

It was a funny sight. Sylus was currently crouched on the floor of your apartment, peering underneath your coffee table. He had dropped by earlier under the pretense of looking for a part of Mephisto’s wing that had fallen off the day before.

“….”

His lies were getting worse and you had no compunctions about telling him so.

“You can stop by just because you wanna say something or see me, y’know? You don’t always have to blame it on Mephie. That crow already has enough crimes to his name.”

You allow yourself a smug self-satisfied smile as he scoffs at your remark but still gives up the bit and stands up. “Besides, you built that crow. I highly doubt he’s so easily damaged.”

Sylus smiles as he gives you with a fond look. “Nothing gets by a hunter of the Association now does it?” he says lightly.

You smile back, and then in a slightly sing-song tone of voice reply, “Speaking of hunters from the Association and birds….another little bird told me something very interesting the other day. Two little birds actually…”

“Oh?” Strangely, Sylus seemed a little bit on guard at that, although he clearly didn’t want to show it. If you hadn’t grown so good at reading his micro-expressions you wouldn’t have noticed it at all. He fixes a smile on his face and tilts his head forward slightly “And what did these two little birds have to say that was so interesting?….”

You ignore how his smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes and continue on, your smile a bit more mischievous, “Well it was about this big mean crow that likes to bother hunters on their off time!”

The smile on his face doesn’t move at all as he waits for you to continue.

“These little birds told me that….this big mean crow might have a little crush on someone from the Hunter’s Association!”

Sylus stares at you for a second or two too long before giving a hearty laugh. “Is that so? Is that the sort of thing little birds tell you?” he chuckles, “You really should learn how to communicate with Mephisto better, sweetie. I promise you he is a much better conversationalist than whatever birds you’ve been chatting with.”

You ignore him, refusing to be swayed “Y’know…if this big mean crow would admit things out loud…maybe this hunter from the Association could actually be of some service.”

Sylus suddenly stiffens and he stares straight at you. It looks like he’s not even breathing for a few seconds. He licks his lips and swallows, strangely obvious nervous tics for a man who prides himself on staying calm in nerve-wracking situations. He seems to catch onto this himself and when he speaks, his voice comes out as smooth as always “Oh? And how would this Miss Hunter be of service to the big mean crow?”

“Wellll…for one, this Miss Hunter works at the Association!”

“Yes…she does, doesn’t she?” His eyes scan yours for something. You’re not sure what it is he’s looking for, so you go on.

“Yes! And, this Miss Hunter knows a LOT of hunters. Hunters that maybe this big mean crow has met before? Some very crush-worthy hunters? Maybe even a hunter named…” you pause a second for dramatic effect, eyes locked on his to catch any hint of emotion, “…TARA!” You say Tara’s name like it’s a gotcha moment.

Sylus stares blankly at you. No nervous widening of the eyes or quick inhale of breath at the name.

“…Tara?” you try again, “From the…”

He continues to stare at you. He looks like he’s wondering if you are unwell.

“No? Oh, hmm...” you pause to think for a second “….maybe…Lois?”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, what are you-“

“….Simone? Did you, have you met Simone before? I can’t remember if she was there at karaoke that day or not…”

“…what? Simone who?”

“…Alex?” you try again, “Is it Alex? I know you met him at the resort too that time….”

You hem and haw for a bit. trying to think of other hunter’s that Sylus might have met before, “Jenna? Andrew? …Nero?”

Sylus has walked up to you quietly without you noticing. Large hands gently hold onto your shoulders and your face looks up to meet his gaze. He looks vaguely concerned.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

You sigh and stare him straight in the eyes. “I’m trying to figure out the hunter you have a crush on!”

He blinks.

“Luke and Kieran let on that you might have a little crush on a ‘certain special hunter’ from the Association, so I’m trying to figure out who it is!” you tell him.

His hands slip from your shoulders as he takes a step back and gives a deep sigh, “Oh kitten…”

“I know you met some of my coworkers when we had that retreat at your fancy resort that one time…but I guess you’ve probably run into other hunters too, given your…occupation,” you try to meet his gaze again but he has closed his eyes and is pinching the bridge of his nose gently.

“Hey, I’m trying to tell you that you can tell me!” You take a step towards him and he takes another sigh, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? If you tell me, I can help put in a good word for you!” you pause, “Secretly, kind of. Might have to stick with the Skye persona for a while at first.” You pause, “But I can totally be your wingman! Really!”

Sylus shakes his head slowly, seemingly exasperated. You take the opportunity to grab at his arm so he stops pinching his nose and looks at you.

“You can tell me. I promise.” Your voice is softer. He’s staring at you again, “I can even give you tips if I’m friends with whoever your crush is.” Your lips feel dry and you lick them before continuing, “Tara likes fortune-telling and gossip, she’s super friendly and already thinks Skye is a pretty interesting person. Not sure about your singing though…. Serenading her is definitely off the table. As for Simone, she’s super into mechanical stuff, she modifies our weapons at the Association. She’s really good at it! Ooh, you guys would have loads to talk about actually. If you like her, just show her Mephisto or your bike, she’ll love the modifications you’ve-“

“Stop.” Sylus presses a finger against your mouth. “Please, sweetie. Please. Just…” He takes a few seconds to look straight into your eyes before he closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath as he pulls his hand away. When he finally looks at you again, he seems tired. “Don’t listen to Luke and Kieran. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“But-“

“Shh. Let me finish. Trust me, sweetie. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re just messing with you. I don’t have a crush on any of your hunter friends at the Association.”

“…oh.” you bite your lip, “I thought…”

Sylus gives another sigh, this one more fond than tired or frustrated. He continues on breezily, as if trying to set the mood for a bantering session, “Really kitten, you shouldn’t make it so easy for them. If you keep on being so gullible they’ll never stop having fun at your expense…” You give a huff, Sylus pays it no mind and goes on, “Honestly, I thought maybe you’d gotten better at figuring out when they’re pulling your leg.” He gently prods your arm a bit, “You really thought I had my eye on one of your Association’s hunters?”

You pout and cross your arms. “I’m going to have some words with those two the next time I see them!”

Sylus smiles and cups your face gently to get a better look at your pout. “Mm…. You should spend some more time over at the Onychinus base, sweetie. Maybe you’ll start to catch onto their tricks better if you do. Get more used to it and all that.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead like he can’t help himself.

****

When Sylus returns home, he doesn’t say anything about the incident with you earlier. However, the twins do notice later that night that their schedules for the next few weeks are jam packed with all their least favorite tasks. They’re smart and they figure it out, even before you come over and give them each a heated earful about spreading silly rumors.

Best to keep their noses out of Sylus’ business with you, even if it was done with the best of intentions.

———

A/N: So, my MC and Sylus are in a friends-with-benefits kind of situation. It’s all kisses and cuddles and hangouts (and more) but hey, whoa, we’re not actually together.

Sylus, as he does, wants more. He actively wants and hopes for a serious relationship. My MC does too…but she also has major, major commitment issues and insecurity anxieties abt the whole thing. She’s afraid of losing herself in a relationship and also doesn’t want to read too deep into whatever weird kissy friendship they have, because what if Sylus is just messing around with her to mess around? He reads like he wants to be in a relationship with her but can she be so sure? So anyway, she also doesn’t want more a deeper relationship. This all makes her want to appear really extra okay and supportive of them not being together, and of any other romantic interests that might befall Sylus. Is she secretly a bit jealous at the thought? Yeah, but she’s never going to admit it.

You might notice Sylus staring into her eyes a lot. It’s cause he can see what she desires. And frankly what she wants is kind of a shitshow? She wants to be with him but she also doesn’t, and she wants to know that he’s serious but she also doesn’t want to know. Sylus isn’t 100% sure how to proceed with that and for as blunt as Sylus is, he always lets her take the lead in the relationship. I see him as being terrified of her getting scared or upset and avoiding him - so he doesn’t want to push her. And the result is that they’re kind of stuck in this push-pull couple-but-not-a-couple situationship.

tl;dr - Basically, I’m self-inserting my commitment issues into my MC. Because this is how it would probably have to go down if MC were actually like me.

[frost-eyed-autumn]

Chuuya, naturally, has his idea of things. He thinks its the same idea as Neo, but plans change. He's just as ready to rush in as she is, until she's tossing him her umbrella, her jacket, and bringing out what he can only assume are the big guns.

Which isn't really a bad thing, either from an ally-having-his-back perspective and a learning-her-Ability perspective.

Which of course, serves to give him another moment of pause, as she summons some sort of creature that literally breathes fire. Whether the fire is real or another illusion, he's not entirely sure... and he's not sure it matters. Few people would be daring enough to find out the hard way, and he's heard that -- at least theoretically -- the human mind can be tricked into believing a danger is real that isn't, enough to have a biological effect.

Either way, he doesn't plan to just sit out on the sidelines like a cheerleader. He's sure Neo will forgive him for setting her personal effects aside to join in the fight -- any other dandelions still drifting in the air bounce right off his Gravity cloak now that its up, since they aren't liquid or fine powder. He should have kept it up earlier, but that's just what happens sometimes when something is too out of place to register it as a threat -- but that plan doesn't seem to be in his near-future either.

As he's rushing in at Neo's tail, he feels his skin tingle with points of heat, rapidly growing hotter, and doesn't even have time to properly cuss before the seeds go off like multiple small, bloody bombs expanding to the size of bullet wounds.

He at least has two points of luck ; most of them were in his arms, and not his face, and it wouldn't kill him, but the pain and mental shock of trying to consciously register what exactly had happened was enough to make his steps falter and stagger, crashing his shoulder sideways against a wall to keep from tripping to the floor instead.

Oh, it most definitely hurt and slowed him down, long enough that Neo basically solos the fight. And she is most certainly impressive and a force to be reckoned with. The other Ability user doesn't stand a chance, but by the end of it, Chuuya's also gotten a glimpse of her limits.

Everyone has one, including himself. He's not there yet if push comes to shove, but he will be soon if he keeps losing blood at this rate. He wouldn't be surprised if the attack had managed to burst an artery in one of his arms, the only reason he wasn't collapsed or already dead being that he was Arahabaki.

Mori was going to be very not happy about it, and he saw at least a few mandatory days off in his near future (he wasn't even going to be able to do paperwork until his muscles stitched themselves back together) ; but he would heal better than most.

Either way, their immediate enemy is dead, so Chuuya takes a second to find his bearings and walk closer, managing not to sway too much. He's not going to be able to offer her a hand up, but it was the thought that counted, or something like that.

"Hey, are you--"

The movement of another shadow catches his eye, with Neo in between him and them, and he tenses as wind blows around the room. Of course. He should have figured the dandelion guy and the wind user were two entirely different Abilities.

Well... he still has three dead guys to avenge, an unwillingness to add to the body count unless its the enemy, an Ability strongly matched against a type like that, and pain just dull enough not to incapacitate him but sharp enough to piss him off.

Which means he doesn't waste any time snarling and launching himself foot-first at the other person, whose wind Ability might have blown anyone else across the room, but he has Gravity. He can manipulate his density and heaviness to break through their wall of air and hit them dead on, and he's not feeling particularly charitable in holding back. If his enemy is lucky, they'll die on impact. If not, they'll be eating every meal from then on through a milkshake straw in a hospital bed.

His landing after he sends their body shattering against a wall is anything but graceful, stumbling a bit and catching his weight with his back against some other structure in the room, but he's still better off than whoever he kicked.

"Bastard."

𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓?

It takes her moment too long to understand. To fully grasp the situation they're in- but that's always been a problem with her: she's too reckless, too swift to act, so long as it means something gets done. However, it's lucky that Chuuya takes his time. Lucky that Chuuya doesn't immediately agree to her idea, instead peering at their adversary to puzzle over just what they're trying to accomplish. His panicked noise draws her eyes immediately, and his words register a moment later.

...just as her eyes lock on a seed drifting against her cheek.

Only instead of latching on and burrowing, something flickers across her skin, a flash of pink rejecting it.

And Neopolitan smiles.

Handing her parasol down to Chuuya, just in case (but taking her blade), she shrugs out of her jacket as well, pulling her hair up and back into a high, tight ponytail. Dropping her jacket over Chuuya's shoulder, she summons something massive. Something that fills the corridor in front of her even as it hunches down, wings flapping once and sending the dandelions further back—

Before fire fills the corridor, and Neo launches herself into a run up the creature's back. If she's going to do this, she has to do it fast, before whatever these things do activate while they're stuck inside her new employer. Following the burning shot, she splinters into multiple targets after making the Manticore disappear, following the scrambling figure in the dark as they attempt to try and send more seeds flying her way, aiming at each 'version' of her in turn. Most that reach her hit her aura and fall to the wayside, but even that can only take so many. And with how many illusions she's pulled today, she's reaching the bottom of her reserves.

Still, it's enough.

One of her selves slides across the ground, forcing him to stumble backwards, only for another to slam into him for one side. The final one braces so Neo can use her as a springboard, launching herself over her feet first. She rides the body to the ground, taking a fist to the cheek that makes her mouth bleed as her lip and cheek catch her teeth. But she doesn't let herself get thrown off, bringing her sword up and then down in one swift, brutal stab. The arm that had hit her comes up to try and ward the thin blade off, thinking it too weak to pierce- but Hush does what it was made to do and silences the body beneath her as Neo bears down with the full brunt of her weight.

When the twitching beneath her stops, she falls back onto her ass with a gasp of breath, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth as she peers back at Chuuya, nothing but a pair of eerily glowing, white-tinged pupils in the dark of her silhouette.

Her aura flickers in warning, a pink shimmer in the gloom, and she frowns as she wavers slightly, swaying from side to side where she sits.

Ah... she really overdid it with those last few duplicates, didn't she?

[twlgholts]

always kind of was, j.b.

chapter two, poncho punch

— jacob black x f. reader

a/n: i realized writing this i abuse em dashes so…oops… anyway here is more cute fluffy jake that is hopefully not ooc! (i feel like ive been doing a p good job so far)

prev. series masterlist! next.

The first few mornings of May in Forks arrived slowly, like the sun was still shy about showing its face. Contrary to popular belief, summers in Washington do come—and when they do, the clouds finally pull back and the sun becomes a welcomed guest after months of gray. Today is one of those quietly golden days. You wake to soft light filtering through your window blinds and the gentle tap of birds on the roof. Rolling onto your back, your eyes trace the knotty wood ceiling above you. It smelled faintly of old books and damp earth from the rain earlier in the week–and part of you liked that the house hasn’t tried to be anything other than what it was. Forks never changed much.

But Jacob did. And you still haven’t quite figured that out.

You see him most days now, which you don’t mind—actually, you kind of like it. You never had that many friends in Forks to begin with, and the few you did have moved away, just like you had. Jake would show up with that lopsided grin and some excuse to get you out of the house—down to First Beach, out by Sol Duc, or just cruising around in his rebuilt Rabbit, pointing out every small thing that has changed since you were last here. He makes it feel easy, like old times, but there’s always something unsaid in the air between you. Like every sentence hangs with an ellipsis.

This afternoon, he came by again. You’re both on the porch swing, spending one of those perfect slow afternoons doing absolutely nothing. Your parents are out for the day—visiting friends, maybe, but you didn’t ask. You’re busy…with Jake. Your knees are hugged to your chest, one earbud in, and Jake’s got the other. He’s nodding along to the playlist you made—Beyoncé, Nelly Furtado, and his now not-so-secret favorite: Avril Lavigne.

“It’s getting kinda hot,” he says suddenly, tugging the earbud out. “Otter Pop?”

You grin. “Yes, please. Can you get me—”

“Poncho Punch. Yeah, I know.” He’s already standing, smirking. “Be right back.”

You laugh as he jogs inside like it’s a mission. A few minutes later, he returns with two hilariously oversized Otter Pops. The kind your parents bought in bulk just because they were cheaper than the regular ones.

He tosses you the orange one, keeping the red one for himself.

“You still eat the red ones first, huh?”

“This one’s got a bite,” he says, tearing the plastic with his teeth. “Kinda like me. Fiery. Intense. Unapologetically cool.”

You snort. “Please stop psychoanalyzing your artificially dyed sugar water, weirdo.”

He grumbles but sits down beside you anyway, unwrapping his pop fiercely. You do the same. The earbuds go back in, and you both fall into that easy rhythm again—breeze in the trees, tires on gravel in the distance, his arm warm where it brushes yours.

For a while, it’s like no time passed at all. But you still can’t quite believe the shift in him. The height. The new muscles. The serious way he carries himself sometimes, like he’s older than he should be. When you asked, he’d just muttered something about a growth spurt, but you didn’t buy it. You didn’t change that much, not really. But Jake always insisted you had.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he tenses slightly as he pulls it out. One glance and his jaw tightens.

“Everything okay?” you ask, still eating your popsicle.

“Yeah,” he says too fast, shoving the phone back into his jeans. “Just Sam.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Sam Uley?”

“Mhm.” He hesitates, then shrugs like it’s no big deal, “The guys are hanging out tonight. You should come.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Bonfire at the beach. Everyone’ll be there.”

Everyone. You bite your lip. You’d been looking forward to a quiet night settling in, but the idea of seeing Embry and Quil again makes your chest lift a little. You alway loved tagging along with the three of them, even if they were total chaos. Quil and Embry never treated you like you couldn’t keep up–and Jake never loved that. He was always protective over you for some reason.

“Okay,” you say after a moment. “Yeah, I’ll go.” Then you pause. “But I thought you didn’t like Sam?”

Jake rolls his eyes slightly, like he expected this question.

“Things change,” he pauses. “I got over it. We’re… cool now.”

You give him a look. “That’s it?”

He shrugs again, but his smile is a little crooked. “I dunno. Sometimes you realize you were wrong about people.”

You decide not to press. Not today, at least.

Your Otter Pop drips a bright orange line down your wrist and you fumble for the hem of your shirt–but Jake’s faster. Without a word, he leans in, catching the melting trail with his thumb, wiping it gently from your skin. His touch lingers, warm and a little too careful. You glance up and for a second–just one second–he’s looking at you like he’s seeing something new. Like he’s remembering something old.

The moment passes. He leans back with a grin that’s too casual and shoves his finished Otter Pop wrapping into his other pocket.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

And just like that, he stands, heading down the porch steps like nothing happened–like his fingers didn’t just leave a burning line on your skin.

You spend the next few hours cleaning up, texting your parents (who are, predictably, still out), and trying not to overthink the way Jacob had looked at you earlier.

Because it had been different than anything you were used to.

You’d known Jacob Black since you were kids and had seen every version of him–from the scrawny eight-year old who challenged you to races on the beach (and won every time) to the sulky fourteen-year-old who pretended not to care when you told him you were moving. You don’t remember the exact moment when you met Jacob. He was just there–holding your hand when you jumped off the jungle gym, pushing you on the swing, playing tag. Somewhere along the way, he just stuck.

But the way he’d stared at you today–like he was seeing you for the first time–that was new. You shake your head. You’re probably just imagining things.

At exactly 8:00 PM, the roar of Jacob’s motorcycle cuts through the quiet of the evening. You grab your jacket and head outside where he’s waiting, helmet in hand.

“You sure you’re okay on this thing?” you question, eyeing the bike.

He smirks. “Scared?”

“No,” you lie.

He laughs and tosses you the helmet. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip, but you climb on behind him anyway, gripping the sides of his jacket as the engine rumbles to life beneath you.

“Hold on tighter than that,” he says over his shoulder. “Unless you wanna eat pavement for dinner.”

You roll your eyes but slide your arms around his waist, pressing closer. His breath hitches, barely, before he revs the engine and takes off. The wind rushes past as you speed down the road, the trees blurring into one long streak. Jacob’s warmth seeps into you, even as the cool air nips at your cheeks, his back solid against your chest and despite your earlier nerves, you find yourself relaxing.

Because this is Jacob–with him, you’ve always been safe.

First Beach is just as you remember it. Smoke and salt in the air, the crash of waves blending with the snap of logs in the bonfire. The group’s already gathered–Embry, Quil, Sam, and a few others you barely recognize. You remember their faces from around La Push, though you’d never known them well. The ones you can’t quite recall the name of sit slightly apart from the rest, arms crossed but with a faint smile when they catch your eye.

You didn’t expect to be greeted like someone returning home, but Embry jumps up first, nearly tackling you with a hug.

“No way it’s you!”

Quil follows right behind him, shaking his head. “City life didn’t ruin you after all.”

“Shut up,” you retort, hugging him too. “Barely a city, even.”

Sam offers a polite nod and a small smile. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” you reply tight-lipped, still taking it all in.

Jacob stays close to your side as you find a spot around the fire. You catch Quil nudging Embry and whispering something that sounds like, “She’s basically part of the–” before Sam shoots them both a look that shuts them up. You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it.

Despite the unfamiliar faces, the night settles into a rhythm. The heat of the fire, the low rumble of conversation, the occasional laugh from Paul that always seems louder than it needs to be. You talk with Leah for a while, glad for the presence of another girl. She's blunt, dryly funny, and easy to talk to once she warms up. It's nice—not being the only one. Someone mentions the old Quileute stories, and a few of the guys start joking about them, but you catch the shift in their expressions. Something passes between them.

You smile faintly. “I remember Billy used to tell us those stories,” you say quietly. “You never believed any of them, Jake.”

Jacob doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks at the fire, then at you. “Maybe I was wrong.”

There’s a silence there, brief but thick.

It’s only your second full day back, but you’ve caught Jacob staring more than once—longer than before, longer than friends should. You catch him doing it again now, the firelight reflected in his eyes, something unreadable behind them. He looks away when you meet his gaze. Eventually, the others begin to drift off, pairing up or heading home. Quil tosses another log into the fire with a lazy salute before he disappears with Embry into the dark.

“Bonfires aren’t the same without your terrible ghost stories,” you say.

Jacob smirks. “You were always the one who got scared, not me.”

You both laugh softly.

When it’s just the two of you left, the sounds of the ocean fills the quiet, waves crashing in rhythm with your pulse. Jacob stands and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet–but when you go to let go, his fingers linger, just a second longer than they need to.

The ride back is quieter. The wind bites a little more than before, but Jacob’s presence keeps you grounded. When he pulls up in front of your house, he doesn’t cut the engine right away. The night hangs suspended between you, thick with something unspoken.

“Thanks for tonight,” you murmur, voice nearly swallowed by the hum of the bike.

Jacob finally turns to look at you, his dark, brown eyes reflecting off the porch light. “Anytime,” he says, low and earnest, like he means it in every possible way.

You hand him his helmet, and your fingers brush against his, sending a jolt up your arm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant, like a kid waiting for reassurance.

You smile and nod. “Obviously.”

On the porch as you fumble for the keys, your heart still thuds from the ride–or maybe from the way his hands lingered or the way his voice dipped when he said “anytime.” All these little moments of extra long touches and the loaded glances are building up, and as you close the door behind you, something settles heavy in your chest: something is changing. You don’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there, undeniable as the tide.

[brotherscain]

wip wednesday friday!

super mega ultra late on this but thank you @pussyeatersamwinchester for tagging me!!

this is a snippet from a weecest/teenchesters wip i’ve been sitting on for an embarrassingly long time, “jawbreaker”

———

Plastic caved in on itself in quick crunches as Dean chugged more water. After finishing he smacked his lips, refreshed. “We should go out tonight.” 

Sam pulled a face. “Pass.” 

“Okay,” Dean huffed about his mulish little brother. “Let me rephrase. We’re going out tonight.” Sam could feel Dean staring holes into him. 

Anything other than a cold shower and bed sounded like unnecessary torture. Still, he humored Dean. “And do what? Sioux Falls isn’t exactly a stomping ground for evening entertainment—or any entertainment at all.” 

“Where’s your imagination, Sammy?” Dean picked on him. “There’s plenty of entertainment. Parties. Booze—”

Sam chucked up an abrupt snicker. “Yeah, right. No thanks.”

“Girls,” Dean finished. He’d leaned in a little closer to Sam’s face and dropped his voice a pitch lower as if to entice Sam to the bait. 

With his eyes still closed, Sam fell back on his other unbridled senses. Dean partially eclipsed the sun where it filtered in bands through the window blinds and threw shade over some of Sam’s face. They both waited in stalled moments for the other to say something more. 

Maybe Dean figured Sam needed to think about it. And Sam was, but not that he would go. Not even that he’d go only if Dean did X, Y, and Z for him. He was thinking about Dean flirting with girls too young for him and too old for Sam, buttering them up with his sleazy charm and herding them closer and closer toward his kid brother. He was thinking about how Dean never took him to parties before, never dared to extend an offer as if it was one of the few off-limits things they had between them. He was thinking about how Dean’s gotten all weird about some stuff lately, and it rubbed Sam wrong.

Sam finally opened his eyes and panned over to Dean hovered above him. His white beater stained mucky around the neckline. Tanned creamy golden across every exposed stretch of skin. All the physical labor has built soft-toned muscles into his subtle meatiness. Sam struggled to remember when Dean started to look like this. In a way, he always has. 

“Why?” He found Dean’s eye to ask it. “What’s the big deal all of a sudden?”

Dean blinked at him, his enthusiastic smile dimming a little. He straightened to move out of Sam’s space. “Didn’t know you hated having fun, loser.” It’s not as lighthearted as his earlier jabs. A little shunned. Almost defensive.

A second later Sam lifted from Dean’s bony leg and reached to scruff at his nape, wet and sticky with summer’s salt. “That’s not really… fun for me, Dean.” He shrugged and tucked his chin into his shoulder to look over at Dean. “Just go. I’ll be fine.” Because maybe the reason Dean’s been so persistent with him was some misguided thought that Sam wanted all this and didn’t know how to get it without his older brother blazing the path and guiding him down it. 

Some silence passed between them. “Nah. S’okay,” Dean eventually dismissed it. He pushed himself off the couch, hurtling limbs into Sam’s side on the way out. He heaved in a sigh, unserious and back to his familiar brand of pestering easy as nothing. By the doorframe he swiveled around to face Sam, propping against the old wood with a glib smile. “I’ll just sit around and be lame with you.” 

Without lingering, Dean left the room. Sam sat on the floor, tender in certain spots from the hardwood and too hot still and glad but confused about Dean letting the whole thing blow over quickly enough.

———

tagging @missmisdemeanor @sharedblood @nuturalsuper anyone else who wants to!!

[bugofmanynames]

update on the skinsuit guy lore 🔥🔥

uhhhh so i should probably confirm their names so i came up with the names a while ago but i didn't really know which one to give who so i just used the names for them interchangeably and in an earlier post i called this dude here simon

but i decided recently to swap their names around and keep it that way so just to clear up anything that dude's name is now jett and the spooky looking dude (aka young skinsuit guy) is simon

so AS FOR THE LORE simon and jett are coworkers and presumably friends. i genuinly don't know what the hell their relationship is, whether they're best friends, simon is framing his feelings for this dude as unimaginable hatred because he can't even fathom the concept of love, they're some kind of metaphor, or if they just genuinely hate each other, so i guess it's entirely up to interpretation.

basically jett's everything simon isn't, even though simon worked almost twice as hard to get where he was and jett just had it all handed to him on a silver platter, he has a stable, well paying job, a spouse and a daughter, and eventually simon reaches a breaking point and starts gathering as much intel as possible to plot his murder.

one day jett's just going about his day and simon pops out of nowhere and straight up jumps him and drags him into some kind of backroom where he proceeded to skin this dude alive as soon as he regains consciousness and dumps him out in the middle of nowhere, leaving him there to die a slow painful death. Meanwhile simon immediately gets into action, destroying any records or evidence of his own existence and poses as jett, even going under his name and everything.

simon's able to pull himself off as him pretty well, at least for a good bit until his facade slowly but surely begins to slip (quite literally too) and everybody's starting to realize that's there's something wrong, and eventually they begin to figure out that he isn't jett at alll and in the end, he loses everything because he tried to pursue something that was just always out of his reach.

anyway so where redacted comes in, simon/"jett" is miserable as hell but then this sad naive orphan comes into the picture and he sees them as the perfect opportunity to start from a fresh slate (identity theft again) and pretends to take them in, and at first he acts nice to lure them into thinking that he's safe, until they began doubting him as he slowly began to reveal his intentions, but he started emotionally manipulating them into thinking that he was the only one who cared and kept them safe and basically just made them an unhealthy amount of dependent on him. As part of "redacting" them, he basically did the same thing he did to himself and erased any previous information of their existence including their memories, making them literally nobody.

anyways so that's the backstory update and have some other random stuff about the characters

jett's daughter is named Shermy!!!!!!! she's like probably in her 30s in the current time of the story but i thought it'd be kinda funny if when she was a kid when simon took over jett's life he realized that he has a kid. And he just doesn't know how to be a father so he probably just let her do whatever she wanted and she thought that he was the coolest parent ever even though it wasn't even her actual father. doppledad

also i think it's probably important to mention that when simon was a kid he killed his parents by setting their house on fire. He was the only one who made it out alive, so he still has a bunch of scars from the burns he got. He was already kind of a disturbed child, so honestly that whole thing only messed him up more and made him into a deranged adult.

anyway yap over sorry if you read all of this

[charlie-is-aroace]

Actually getting emotional about Andi winning😅

[tiredela]

twink rebirth 😔😩🪱

[egophiliac]

Favorite Disney Princess?

this would be a much easier question if they let Meg into the lineup. dangit. >:(

in terms of, like, favorite movie/adaptation, I have a lot of appreciation for the OG three -- Snow, Cinderella, and Aurora (...okay, yes, I was basically predisposed to being obsessed with Diasomnia). overall it's a toss-up, but Snow has my favorite design! she's so classically '30s but in, like, a technicolor way. it's great! ❄️

in terms of who I spent my entire childhood low-key obsessed with (and isn't Meg)...that would be Jasmine. no question. especially in the purple dress. I love me a snarky princess covered in organza and it's all her fault (and Meg's).

[gio-cosmo]

Yk I wasn’t originally planning to talk abt my ao3 account on here but I don’t really gaf anymore. Embarrassment is a concept. Embrace joy and whimsy.

..anyways! If you want to read some of my works my ao3 account is bittersweet_serendipity ^_^ I love to write and am always aiming to improve. I state this a lot in authors notes, but if you ever spot any major weak points or mistakes in my writing, feel free to point them out to me! Constructive criticism helps a ton.

Do be aware that my older works (aka the first 2 I published) are literally filled to the brim w grammar mistakes like it’s actually baffling 😭 we should all collectively ignore those for the sake of my mental sanity actually! <3 I need to go back and edit them but I keep pushing it off ughh…someday.

[completeoveranalysis]

[5]

The UNEASE when one of the fun Mokona quotes of the series (Mokona is Mokona) is thrown BACK AT MOKONA in the distressing time loop situation (The princess means the princess!)

Kurogane visibly SWEATING (from the heat, as Fai observed last chapter?) as he wonders when in the timeline of Clow this is. ME TOO KUROGANE THANK YOU FOR THIS. 

Lava Lamp does his dialogue duty and asks the npc directly so let’s see let’s see

Do you think I will like this answer. 

I do not. 

SEVEN

BABY SAKURA TIMELINE ACTIVATED

BABY APPLE SAKURA TIMELINE ACCIDENTALLY ACCURATE?

I have deep deep appreciation for the murder dads getting to react in shock at these revelations and then also vocally discuss the implications of everything between them. I’m living for this active investigation. It’s all spiraling further and further into confusion but they’re keeping all the pieces together in a logical form for now. And LOVE that expression on Fai when he says they won’t find any useful answers here.

Meanwhile Mokona asks her own question in the investigation (about seeing Sakura, because Mokona is always a darling) but the answer is that she’s not in the castle. The pause in everyone’s reaction to this makes me think the next line he says is going to be even worse. 

INTERESTING. 

This is new information (to us) but Lava Lamp reflects on this as if he should have been able to figure this out all the way back here. WHEN HE WAS ALSO SEVEN.

WHEN HE WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD (or close enough) AND TRAPPED IN A LAVA LAMP, UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING AT ALL EXCEPT LOOK THROUGH SOMEONE ELSE’S EYE, and he still thinks he should have been able to piece together the mystery from the fact that Sakura did purification rituals at the ruins before her birthday. 

Hindsight can be a bitch to deal with but Lava Lamp is just unerringly hard on himself. 

[skrunksthatwunk]

just finished s2 of kaiji and it was good i really liked it but i hope i never see that fuckass pachinko machine again!!!

[casket-of-imps]

guy who blogs on the autism site: guys this is gonna sound crazy but I think I have autism