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#fic preview???
blushweddinggowns · 3 months
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“Your boyfriend,” Chirssy sighed as she picked through Nancy’s clothes, “Y’know, Steve?”
Robin blinked at her, “You think I’m dating Steve?”
That was a silly question, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You guys are all over each other.”
They were. Piggy back rides, cuddling on the couch together, constantly invading each other’s personal space. The only person worse with Steve was Eddie, but Chrissy figured that just came with being best friends for over a decade. She didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for that, considering her first real friends were barely six months old. 
Chrissy just hadn’t expected Robin to burst out laughing. Hard enough to double over.
Robin wiped at her eyes, barely managing to speak through her own cackles, “That’s-oh my god. How have we fucked up this badly?” 
Chrissy could feel a flush creep up her neck, embarrassment kicking in. She hated when she wasn’t in on the joke. It usually meant that it was actually on her,  “Don't be mean.”
“No!” Robin rushed out to say, effortlessly catching on to the look on Chrissy’s face, “No! I-I don’t mean- you’re not stupid! I am. We are. For… reasons. But we aren’t dating.”
That didn’t make any sense. Unless… was Steve leading her on? Was he the type of guy to do that?
Chrissy raised a brow at her, “So what are you doing? The two of you are attached at the hip. Unless he just drives you around everywhere for fun?”
Chrissy could tell Robin was still trying not to laugh. She was failing at it too, obvious as she hid it behind her hand. 
“Stop laughing at me,” Chrissy grumbled. 
“I’m not! I’m just laughing near you,” Robin said quickly. She turned to Steve, “Hey babe, can you come over here for a second?”
He came trotting right over, leaving Eddie to argue with Nancy in his place. He kind of reminded her of a dog, but in a cute way. Like a golden retriever boyfriend. 
Robin wrapped an arm around his shoulder the second he was within reach. She grinned at him, shaking him the slightest bit, “How would you feel about us going out some time?”
Steve stared at her, obviously confused, “Huh?”
“You, me,” Robin went on, “The whole boyfriend girlfriend shtick. What do you say?”
Chrissy didn’t expect to Steve physically cringe, like the idea completely disgusted him, “Ew, no.”
Robin scoffed but she didn’t look very surprised, “Fucking rude.”
“No!” Steve said, raising his hands to placate, “I don’t mean you’re gross! I mean it would be like banging my sister!”
It was Robin’s turn to cringe, “Dude, ew.”
“See!”
Chrissy didn’t understand what was happening. She stared at them, blurting the question out, “You guys aren’t together?”
Robin did a set of jazz hands, “Nope. Absolutely zero attraction between us. See?”
“But why?” Chrissy asked, looking between the two of them, “You both seem so perfect for each other.”
“Hey Eddie,” Steve called, a weird smile on his face, “What do you think? Are Robin and I perfect for each other?”
Suddenly Robin had that same look, “Yeah. He knows Steve better than anybody. Let's have him weigh in.”
Eddie groaned as he came over, clearly eavesdropping the entire time. He left Nancy to dig around her closet, walking up next to Steve with a sigh, “Are we really doing this? Really?”
Robin gasped, faking a faint, “Are you implying that I’m not good enough for Steve?”
Steve gasped right along with her, joining in with the dramatics while Chrissy was still lost, “I think he might be.”
“As fun as this little game is,” Eddie sighed, “I think we should just tell her. I’m tired of keeping my hands to myself anyway.”
Steve looked at him, head cocked, “You think so?”
“Why not?”
Steve shrugged, his eyes landing back onto Chrissy. His voice dipped down, more serious then before. He was talking like he was speaking to Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t the one he was staring down as he spoke, “It makes sense. I think the chances of it going badly are pretty low. The alternative wouldn’t be very wise.”
Chrissy was reminded, not for the first time, why she thought Steve was the scarier one of the best friend duo. 
But then Eddie was clamping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he mumbled in his ear, “Put the claws away angel. I highly doubt she's like that. Plus she's been through enough for one day. Don't you think?”
It was actually pretty impressive, how easily a few words had Steve’s face transforming from scarily defensive to pleasantly neutral. It nearly looked like the words made him shiver, “I-you're right. Sorry Chris. I'm just… sensitive about it “
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Chrissy said, completely unable to accept an apology that she didn’t understand, “What is happening?”
And what did Eddie just call him? 
Eddie went on, “Well… we kind of have this thing when we’re in a near death experience. Or at least adjacent to it. Where we, well, kind of let loose? So we might as well warn you about what you’re going to see beforehand.”
Chrissy stared as Steve leaned further into him, nearly too close. No, definitely too close. He was basically nuzzling the side of Eddie’s face as he spoke, “You’re making it sound like we’re going to commit public indecency in front of her. And I’m the one who needs to calm down?”
Chrissy still didn’t get it. But her brain was still trying to work it out, fitting the weird pieces together. The way they were leaning into each other. The fact that Steve, for some bizarre reason didn’t want the best girl in the country, despite the fact that Robin was right there. How Eddie was instantly able to calm him down. 
Angel.
Oh. 
Oh. 
OH. 
“Uh, you okay there Chris?” Eddie asked, watching right at the realization hit her.
She was not okay. Not because of Eddie and Steve, but because this meant Robin was single. And she had been the entire damn time. 
Chrissy shook herself out of the stupid thought, just because she wasn’t taken didn’t mean she had a chance-
“Yeah, we’re kind of the queer trio over here,” Robin added, effortlessly grinding Chrissy’s train of thought back to a halt, “I um, probably should have told you sooner but piggybacking on their coming out seems appropriate.”
Nancy snorted, her outfit choices formalized as she walked over, “If you’re the queer trio what does that make me? The straight fourth wheel?”
They were all talking about it so casually. Like the thing that has plagued Chrissy’s mind for years, filling her with guilt and doubt, didn’t matter. It was normal, it was fine, and Robin liked girls.
She was pretty sure she was going to faint. But before she could her mouth was opening, “That’s- I - Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
Her voice came out more forceful than she expected. Though in her defense, she just found out that she had a real shot with her best friend the same day her life was in danger. She was feeling frazzled, but she corrected herself when she was met with silence, “I-I’m fine with it! Really! I j-just wish I had known.”
Nancy looked at her sympathetically, “Did you have a crush on one of them too? I get it, Steve got me the first time we started getting close. But I promise it’s not that hard to get over it.”
“No!” Chrissy said quickly, again with too much force, “I’m just surprised. T-That’s it. Everything’s fine.”
“Think you got the wrong category there Nance,” Steve mumbled under his breathe, yelping when Robin pinched his arm with a sharp glare. 
“Ignore him,” Robin said with a sad smile, “He doesn’t get everyone doesn’t have the gay gene.”
Chrissy nodded, her eyes trailing the flush that was going up Robin’s neck. Suddenly her mouth felt dry, the urge to correct her coming out full force. She shouldn’t tell them, right? It was wrong, it was bad, it didn't make sense. Because she knew they weren’t wrong. They weren’t bad. And Chrissy was so, so, tired of other people’s words invading her own thoughts. 
Nancy was laying the clothes out, the only one capable of getting everyone back on task, “Since it looks like neither of you were actually looking. I picked these out for you-”
“I have it,” Chrissy blurted out, her eyes still on the clothes on the bed. She refused to look up for any of their reactions, “The um, what you guys were talking about earlier. Me too. And I like the blue skirt.”
Nancy was the only one who didn’t miss a beat, “Ah, so now there’s four. Good for you. And I agree with the skirt, it will make you look a little taller with the heels and the elongation. We can get you to pass for a college student for sure. Robin, what do you think about the pink?”
from the next chapter of this fic
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lunasfics · 8 months
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Found Family - Preview
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
full fic is posted here!
a/n: hihihi :) here is a preview of something I've been working on, hopefully it'll be posted in a few days, I hope you like it!
reblogs are appreciated!!
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Clark sat in silence in the batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak to you, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kryptonian.” 
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heytheredelulu · 3 days
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Full imagine is now out.
Not gonna lie, being on my period is inspiring some absolutely unhinged ideas.
For example:
He scoffs, his hand sliding up the soft flesh of your thigh until his fingertips brush the hem of your underwear.
“No. Baby, no.” You protest, bringing your hand down to stop him but his vibranium hand is faster, catching your wrist and pushing it away.
“Yes. Baby, yes.” He muses, slipping his index finger under the fabric and gently wrapping the string of your tampon around it.
“Bucky, that’s disgusting.” You hiss, frowning at him. “I’m on my period.”
He lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he slowly and carefully begins to tug. “It’s just blood, momma. You think me of all people would be bothered by blood?” He asks softly.
You pause, considering your answer but in your silence he continues. “Besides, wasn’t that part of the vows we exchanged in that sweet little church before God? To have and to hold and to fuck whenever I want?”
“That was not in our vows and you know it.”
“Hm, they weren’t? We should consider renewing those.” He replies with a crooked smirk as he pulls your tampon free, tossing it over the couch and into the waste bin with precision.
“I gotta be honest, baby girl. If the good lord hadn’t intended for me to fuck you everytime my cock was hard, he wouldn’t have blessed you with such a perfect little pussy.”
“Bucky..” you warn, sitting upright as he rises off the couch.
He shushes you, his large hands moving to unbuckle his belt as your eyes settle on the tented crotch of his jeans.
“If you think-“ He mumbles, pulling the leather through the silver buckle and unbuttoning his jeans with his thick fingers. “That I’m not going to bury myself balls deep inside my wife any and every chance I get- you are sorely mistaken.”
OKAY, I’M GONNA GO FINISH THIS FIC NOW. 🥵
💋Sj
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ghost-bxrd · 6 months
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Stony silence rings from the other end of the line, but Jason knows Bruce is listening. Listening and running through several possibilities of how someone could have gotten this number while simultaneously tracking the call signal.
This is gonna be fucking gold.
Time to sell it.
“Dad,” he sobs, pitching his voice until it breaks, teeth chattering exaggeratedly, “Dad, please, I’m scared, I-“ Jason cuts himself off with a scream and another series of sobs, “Please, I can’t— it’s locked! Please, no, Dad, it’s locked—“
A sharp intake of breath, the dull thump of something heavy colliding unexpectedly.
“Dad!” Jason cries, calling upon every single drama class he’s ever had, “Please… please- it’s almost to zero- please, I’m sorry, please, please, it hurts so much-“
Bruce breaks.
“Jason, Jason, hold on Jaylad, hold on, I will find-“
Jason smashes the phone against the marble dress of the creepy angel standing guard over his grave. The pieces vanish into the wet grass, like an occult offering eaten by Gotham’s soil.
Then Jason turns and walks away with a gleeful little smile.
But not without flipping the stupid angel off one last time.
— Grave Pretender sneak peek
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dragonpyre · 3 months
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Never done a fic preview before but HERE I GO. Fic in question being this one where Jason, upon being resurrected, believes himself to be a clone of the real Jason Todd (btw, totally @oifaaa's fault)
“I, uh.” Jason swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, heart beating wildly under his breastbone. Why did this have to be so hard? He’d never even met this man! Just had memories from a dead boy. He didn’t want to say what came next. He didn’t want to ruin that one glimmer of elatement that had blossomed in the man before him. But it wasn’t fair not to. To let him believe what stood before him was what he’d lost when it wasn’t. Jason was nothing more than a gross mockery of this family's grief. And they didn’t deserve that. Swallowing again, he forced the condemning words out his mouth. “I think someone stole his body,” he choked out. “And they used it to make a clone.” Alfred’s face had gone white as a sheet. “And how would you know this?” “Because I’m that clone.”
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psychedelic-ink · 7 months
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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader
summary: You, both a member of David's group and one of his former victims, are already contemplating escape when Ellie arrives at the resort. Seeking Ellie, you decide to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to run off with her. But before you can find Ellie, you cross paths with Joel instead.
word count: 0.5k
full fic warnings (not within the preview): age gap, virgin!reader, mentions of past grooming attempt, mentions of cannibalism, past rape attempt, PTSD, blood, canon typical violence, no smut for now
a/n: alright so i'm a bit too excited for this one so i decided to post a lil preview so i can calm down dfvbfd this story is going to be a heavy one, as you can tell by the warnings, but I'm excited nonthless. I've been thinking about it day and night and been really enjoying writing it so I hope you guys enjoy the little sneak peak. (this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes)
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The wind blew cold. You, a girl who had lost everything, knelt on the ice. Your family had been long gone. Your hope dwindling, hanging only by a simple thread. You didn't know how long you'd been crying. Your hands, young yet covered in the warmth of blood. The scent of pine reached your nose, and you sniffed involuntarily, just like you had done before you lost everything. Before the world ended. You heard the sound of men approaching you, and you wished they would just kill you. Sixteen and already you wished for the sweet mercy of death.
“Now what do we have here?” A man spoke, his tone humorful. Melodic. Your mind and body already slipping and reaching towards the warmth of it. “You poor young thing. Where’s your family, girl?”
When you finally looked up from your hands you saw a man on a horse. Typical for this day and age. Four others hovered near him. All of them looked weathered and older than you. Your eyes moved back to the one that seemed in charge. He had strawberry blond hair and a thin beard of the same color. His eyes narrowed slightly, popping under the blue cold sky and the frozen lake. You didn’t know what to say. How to answer this man who was an obvious threat. 
He hopped off the horse, you attempted to move away but your legs were frozen in place, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage. He knelt next to you. Observing. You swallowed, fear coating your tongue with the taste of bile. His eyes softened when he took in the sight of you. Bruised and wounded. Your eyes squeezed shut as he reached out and pushed a loose strand of hair back only for the wind to bring it back. 
“No need to be afraid, child. We’re a peaceful group and there are more like us, if you want to join.” 
“J–Join?” your teeth chattered, your lips hurting as you spoke. There was a bit of light filling the cracks of the iron cage of your heart. Hope. You realized it to be. Hope to find someone to help you. To look after you in this infected world. He must’ve seen it in your expression because his soft smile grew, eyes glimmering with mirth. 
“So afraid,” he hummed. “But we’ll change that. You’ve been brought here for a reason. And I think I know what your purpose is in our small group.” 
He swiftly stood, leaving you dumbfounded and still upon the freezing ice. Your mouth gaped, your body buzzing with a newfound need to stay alive. 
“What’s your name?” you asked. He threw an old coat over your shoulders. Not his own. But one he had extra on his horse. Probably taken from someone else who was more unfortunate than you. 
“David,” he answered gently, as if he were scared you’d run away. Before you could reach out, he grabbed your hand and lifted you. You nearly fell, only prevented thanks to the strong arm that wrapped around your waist. He was warm. Much warmer than you expected. “Lovely to have you with us.” 
The men near him didn’t seem to share the same sentiment but you smiled all the same. 
You didn't want to think for a while. Maybe not even think for a millennia. If possible.
10 YEARS LATER
Whispers of death surround you. The words of the names that have fallen circling you and squeezing your heart tight. Suffocated. That’s how you feel. Helpless. Trapped. Consumed. Faint murmurs fill the hall room. The cold that seeps through the wood, the same wood that was intended for summer and not winter, worries everyone. Including you. But at the same time, you think this is what you all deserve. An icy grave. Freezing to death and surrendering to the cold. 
You were never meant to feel warmth. You know that better now. 
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Yet another preview of another smut Lucifer x f!sinner reader
No smut yet so no warnings!
It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.
“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!
With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”
“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”
A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…
You didn’t want to think about that.
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WIP Wednesday
Arthur had spent all morning looking for Merlin, only to find out he’d spent all day in the tavern.
Apparently.
Gwaine, who had shown up to training drunk, said Merlin hadn’t been to the tavern in months. And so he had no idea where his wayward servant was, but training had been exhausting and Arthur was about ready to collapse into a bath.
As he got to his chambers, he didn’t expect to hear George, panicking. The man wasn’t supposed to have reactions to anything, whatever was making him raise his voice had to be bad. Arthur pressed himself close to the door and listened for the threat.
“There is a knife in your leg!” George cried, there were pacing footsteps and an ill sounding groan, then Merlin’s voice sounding completely calm if not a little pained.
“It’s not your leg, and I know for a fact it’s not your knife.”
The footsteps stopped, “what does that mean?”
“It means,” Merlin huffed, “it’s not your business so stay out of it. Hand me the honey?”
An astonished gasp from George. “You can’t be considering treating- oh dear lord, that’s a lot of blood!” The servant sounded distinctly ill.
I hate this, but I’m sleep deprived and have *looks at the 61 drafts* nothing else to post.
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cleo-fox · 8 months
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Fic Preview: Overtime
Full fic now posted
@sarahscribbles convinced me to post a preview of my TVA office romance fic. It doesn’t have a proper summary yet, but the text of the preview is kind of a good summation of the setup.
Warnings: None in this excerpt. There will be smut in the full fic.
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You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.
“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.
“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”
“You’re still doing it.”
Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.
And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.
“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”
But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.
Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.
Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles.
Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.
“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”
“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”
“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”
You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”
“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”
Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.
“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”
This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.
Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”
You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.
“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”
The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.
This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.
You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.
The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.
Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind the building—but nothing concrete or substantive.
“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.
Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz had rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.
And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.
It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.
You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.
“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”
In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.
Also not a great sign.
Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”
“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”
“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.
“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need time two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”
“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.
“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.
This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.
You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”
“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”
Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.
“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder
You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.
There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.
“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.
“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”
That at least earns you a hint of a smile.
*
Full fic now posted
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blushweddinggowns · 2 months
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Eddie was dealing with a lot of firsts today. 
The biggest one being the first time he was getting married. Though, Eddie really hoped it wouldn’t be the last. If his fantasies about this day came true he was going to have to insist on a vow renewal somewhere down the line. Fuck it, if even a quarter of what he wanted came through he’d still insist on it. He was never not going to like showing Steve off, and this was the most ostentatious way he could get away with. 
Next, and most distressing, this was the first time Eddie had ever felt the lethal mixture of being incredibly happy and horrifyingly nauseous. He had no idea that a person could feel both things at once, and Eddie was starting to think the ability was just a flaw of the human condition. 
And last, he is a 100 percent sure he had never been this damn nervous in his entire life. Especially when the source of it was entirely self-made. It was an uncomfortable reminder of how he used to feel with Steve, back when he decided to be a fucking crazy person. 
But this was so much worse. 
“You really need to relax,” Chrissy said for the hundredth time, watching as Eddie fiddled in front of the mirror, “That anti-perspirant can only go so far.”
“I know,” Eddie sighed. He was on one today, he knew that. But knowing it wasn’t stopping any of his anxiety. Eddie was trying to fix his hair in the mirror, suddenly unpleased with how it was styled but unwilling to go bother the stylist that did it. She was busy enough with everyone else, let alone the fact that he didn’t even know why he didn’t like it. If anything he was just making it worse. But then again, Steve always said he liked his hair wild, right?
“Hon, I’m serious,” Chrissy sighed, grabbing for his hand to drag him away, “You are driving yourself crazy for nothing. Everything is going to be okay. He’s going to be there. Are you forgetting that it was Steve who asked you to marry him?”
Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even now. The little shit had beaten him to the punch by a matter of days, completely ruining Eddie’s elaborate proposal plans. No, instead Steve decided to do it in the dead of night, getting down on one knee in the middle of their living room after getting destroyed at an impromptu game of scrabble. 
Eddie should have seen it coming, he really should have. But he had been so caught up trying to plan his own proposal he had completely missed the signs. Like how Steve kept picking movies that involved proposals and weddings, and how he was always very interested in what Eddie thought of them. Eddie just hadn’t realized how many notes he’d been taking around his innocuous comments. Not until Steve showed him the scrawled out list he had made down the line:
Not public, he said he wouldn’t want to cry in front of a bunch of strangers. Not again (whoops, sorry babe but at least this one would have been happy tears?)
Close to a bed or a bed-like surface for “celebrating” (I should have seen that one coming)
Diamonds are apparently ~stupid~ so look at colored stones instead (maybe emerald for his birthstone? Stick with sliver tones.)
No where cold so he can focus on the moment instead of freezing
Make it a surprise (But not outside? I don’t want to wait till summer though. Maybe I can do it randomly? Like when his back is turned?)
Write. A. Speech.
Eddie had to give it to him, his notes weren’t in vain. It had been amazing. Tailor-made to him in a way he didn’t even fully get until it was over. Because he had started crying, right in the middle of their living room with no one but Steve to see him. And it had felt so fucking safe. There was no embarrassment, no worrying over someone he didn’t know taking their moment to share with more strangers, none of it. It was just them. 
He had fucking loved the ring, the colors, the style, all of it fit him perfectly. The only thing he loved more had been dragging Steve straight to their bedroom spoil him rotten for hours. The speech had been beautiful, for what he had managed to hear through his own excitement and tears. He had ended up asking Steve to write it down for him considering how he couldn’t trust his own memory. Now it sat on a cute index card he kept in his wallet, right alongside his cute scrawled out list, a constant reminder that Steve Harrington wanted him.
It had been perfect. Almost too perfect. Perfect enough for Eddie to be where he was right now, the doubt of how he ended up with Mr. Perfect. 
from the upcoming last chapter of this fic
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plutoswritingplanet · 1 month
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Fic Preview (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)
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Summary: Cooper decides to pick up a bounty, which has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored with the monotony of your life, decide getting caught by a travelling bounty hunter is just the entertainment you need. Both of you bite off more than you can chew.
a/n: couldn't help myself, from the first moment that dried up raisin popped up on my screen i knew i had to add him to the collection Expect 2/3 chapters, some smut, lots of tension, canon levels of violence and utter lack of knowledge about the world of fallout
IT'S OUT
Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail.
You had to be alive and in good condition.
Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive was easy. Good condition however opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden increase in bounty? - Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 6 months
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Small preview, hopefully i can have it posted tomorrow!
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hyuckmov · 9 months
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haechan — don't let me go (multiverse x soulmates fic) | teaser
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full fic genre: fluff, angst, smut, soulmates / multiverse au, slice-of-life est wc: 10k+ a/n: this fic is for my 1 year anniversary of having this account and a love letter to my stories :) had this idea in my head for awhile now and thought i should put it here to let you all know i'm thinking about it!
"have we met before?"
yes, haechan thinks to himself. again, and again, and again. he's met you in corridors leading nowhere, a face blurred with shadows in a screaming crowd. he knows you from confessions in dimly lit bedrooms, tender truths bathed in moonlight. he could map your body with his eyes closed, could still feel the brush of your hands on his skin, the weight of your body against his chest.
"no," he answers. not like this.
or: in which haechan has to keep the greatest secret he's ever had — which is that he was always made to love you.
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ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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There’s a crash behind him and Dick spins on his heels, instantly on guard— only to be met with Jason’s wide eyed stare.
He sighs, relaxing again. Seriously, what’s with this kid, “Hey, Jason. Know where Bruce is? I need some assistance with a… recent case.”
What case, is what he expects Jason to ask. Or maybe just tell Dick to piss off. It’s always a toss up with Jason.
He does not expect for the boy’s gaze to become downright apprehensive. Which is a novel look on the kid Dick really doesn’t like. Jason doesn’t do apprehensive, he jumpst straight to hostile.
“Hey, buddy,” Dick takes a slow step forward, an inkling of worry creeping into his mind , “You okay? Did something happen?
Jason shies away and Dick stops dead, hands held out placatingly.
“It’s okay, I’m not coming closer. What happened? Are you hurt?” Because something clearly must have happened for Jason to be so wary all of a sudden. Last time Dick remembers seeing him Jason was still his usual spitfire self.
Jason’s expression shudders, a multitude of emotions there and gone in a flash before he opens his mouth and—
Dick blinks, tilting his head slightly at the weird sound that comes out of the boy’s throat. Something like a high pitched chirp more reminiscent of a bird than a human being. Soft, almost musical in quality.
Jason keeps staring at him after, something expectant in his gaze that becomes progressively more upset with each passing second.
“Uhm,” Dick says eloquently, unsure what to do, “That’s a cool… thing you did there. Did B teach you?”
Something about that must have been the wrong thing to say because Jason’s face drops from wary trepidation into outright terror.
— Owl Song pt. IX sneak peek 🦉
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sister-lucifer · 1 month
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Eager Hands On Soft Flesh: A Preview
ticci toby x chubby!transmasc!reader
a fic for @pompeiisystem
content/warnings: insecure chubby reader, reassurance from toby, no real nsfw yet just a loving slightly horny toby who wants you to feel as handsome as he knows you are
“Toby, be honest, do you think this outfit would look better if I…you know, lost some weight?”
The sudden lurch of his body followed by sputtering and coughing as he chokes on his drink makes you jump. Your eyes widen a bit as you watch him struggle to regain his composure, wiping his mouth and trying not to spit. 
“Wh— W-What the hell are you t-talkin’ about?” He stammers, speaking through the discomfort of off brand soda in his windpipe. 
“I just mean…you know,” You reply, suddenly feeling sheepish as you look down at the crimson sweater keeping snug against your top half, “I was just thinking…maybe I should, I dunno—“ 
“Did I s-say something?” Toby says quickly. He rises from where he was sitting at the kitchen table,  wiping his chin with his sleeve one last time. “Did I m-make you—shhhrk!—make you— m-make you think that you h-had to?” 
“Oh no, of course not!” You’re fast to reply, gently putting your hands on his arms and giving a small squeeze. “No, no, it’s not you at all, I promise. I was only thinking—“ 
“W-Well you shouldn’t d-do that anymore.” 
You sigh softly, moving your hands down go grasp his. You run your thumbs over his knuckles, looking up at him through your lashes. 
“Toby, come on, I didn’t mean anything bad about you. I’m just saying…I want you to be honest with me, that’s all.”
You look down at yourself, at the knit sweater and jeans you’ve put on. They’re comfortable, yes, but there’s something about the way you look in them that just doesn’t add up. You shouldn’t have expected to look exactly like the model on the website, really. You didn’t think you did. 
You’re starting to feel foolish for spending your money on this. It was silly, really, to be so excited about something as simple as a cute sweater, but at the time you thought you couldn’t live without it. You have plenty of other perfectly good outfits in your closet. Really, what reason did you have to think— 
You gasp softly when Toby suddenly pulls you in, ripping you from your thoughts with hands on your waist, gently grabbing at your love handles and pushing you back against the counter. His lips find your neck in a split second.
You moan softly, the sensation surprising but not unpleasant. You grasp at the back of his sweatshirt with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He groans under his breath when you tug just a bit.
“Please, baby,” He whispers against your skin, “P-Please, let me love on y-you just a-a bit…” 
“Toby, what are you—“ 
“Nothing, baby, I-I’m not doing a-anything…Just l-let me…”
Your cheeks are getting hot fast. You make no effort to push him away, but you can’t help getting flustered. 
“Toby, c’mon, you don’t have to do all this…” 
“I-I want to, though,” He says quickly, starting to nip and suck at your neck between kisses, “I’m not v-vvv-very good with words, I-I…I just—j-just wanna show you—shhh!—s-show you what you f-feel like…to m-me…” 
He pauses with a sigh, pulling back slowly. He looks up at you almost hesitantly, an expression you rarely see on his face. He’s always the first to act on an impulse, rarely ever thinking twice about anything; what’s slowing him down now? 
“…i-if you’ll let me, I-I mean.” 
The words come out far too gentle for Toby, and it makes you melt against him a bit. He’s always so eager to get his hands on your body, but something in him is sensing something unsure in you. You look back into the mossy color of his hazel eyes with contemplation. 
You can’t stop the gentle smile that spreads over your face. 
You pull him down to give him a slow kiss, and he happily returns the gesture. When you pull back again, there’s no hiding the anticipation on his face as he awaits your answer.
“…Of course, Toby.”
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jayflrt · 3 months
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the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung
release date: out now!
featuring enha + sohee and seunghan! would anyone like to be on the tag list 🫶
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please refer to:
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