#+ one of his colleagues calling him david.. and i was like : “is he.. you know.. ” 2/2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makeyoumine69 · 10 months

Note

Hi! I wish you further growth and inspiration!

My choice is pussy eating and sex toys.

Good luck! 💦💦💦

Fever

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: You love going out and having dinner with Patrick, but not when his friends come along, they always make you feel so uncomfortable and insecure. Good thing he has his own ways of reassuring you, right?

— CONTAINS: Smut, established relationship, sex toys, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), Daddy kink, Praise kink, Degradation kink, pet names, a lot of cum, nipple play, choking, biting, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, dirty talk, Patrick being a manipulative dickhead.

— WORDS: 3.2k

— SONG REC: Babydoll x the Perfect Girl

— A/N: This day finally came, and I finished my first writing challenge, which I started to celebrate my 200 followers! Thank you so much, guys, for standing by my side. I love you and I hope you like it!🖤

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [BWC MASTERLIST] [support]💗

Dorsia, just the mention of the name of that establishment was enough to make Batman frown and clench his jaw in annoyance. Nonetheless, that was the exact place you and him wanted to spend that evening, and when you finally took your seats at the best table in Dorsia, Patrick's face was like a wax statue, it was impossible to read any of his emotions.

Tim, Craig, David and their bimbos couldn’t stop rumbling even for one second and that actually annoyed Bateman, but on the other hand he used it as an opportunity to whisper filthy things right into your ear, taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention due to the ruckus.

“Did my good girl do her homework while I was away?” He nuzzled against your neck, and you fidgeted on your chair uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed. “I can’t wait until we get alone.”

“I bet you do.” You reply shortly, without breaking eye contact with him.

Pleased, Patrick leaned on the chair back, his sly smile speaking for itself. Sneakily, he placed his palm on your knee to play with the hem of your cocktail dress, only to tease you and induce you to try closing your legs. With a muffled gasp, you caught his dexterous hand just at the moment everyone looked at both of you.

"So, Bateman. How was your business trip?" Craig asked with a cheeky grin. "Did you enjoy LA? I hear the chicks there are pretty hot."

The men started laughing together as if they shared the same brain cell, and you used that moment to brush Patrick's palm away, which actually made him a little upset, so he paused and coughed a little.

"McDermott, you can go to LA and see everything with your own eyes!" Patrick scoffed and took a sip of his drink. "I don't want to give any spoilers."

Sighing, you pulled yourself together as you repeated to yourself over and over again that you wouldn't let their childish behavior get under your skin. The girls — models, supposedly — looked at each other in frustration, but neither Bateman nor his colleagues seemed to care.

"God, Bateman! Now I'm intrigued!" McDermott chuckled before lighting his cigarette.

With a mischievous smirk, Patrick hugged your shoulders when he saw a glimpse of sadness in your beautiful, big eyes, and you couldn't help but smile timidly at David's comment:

"Look at them, just two lovebirds."

"Oh, shut up," Bateman blurted out jokingly. "Being jealous isn't a good thing."

Van Patten rolled his eyes at Patrick's remark, but immediately lost interest when the girl next to him leaned down to his neck and whispered something.

"Patrick?" You called his name so softly that it elicited a muffled gasp from his broad chest.

"Yes, dear?" He replied, looking at you lovingly and moving even closer so that you could whisper in his ear.

"When are we going home?"

"Do you want to go?" He 'accidentally' touched your cheek with his perfectly shaped nose, making your heart skip a beat.

"No, I was just asking."

"It's not a problem, honey." Bateman leaned even closer to kiss the area behind your ear. "Besides. I'm starving."

"But we just ate." You almost squealed when he discreetly pinched your thigh under the table, his dark grin sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him.

“You know what I mean, babydoll.” He crooned in a low voice, not giving a fuck about how attentively his coworkers were looking at both of you.

“I–” You wanted to talk back to him, but he suddenly cut you off, standing up and removing the napkin from his knees.

“Gentlemen, sorry, but we have to go.”

“So soon? What happened, Bateman?” Craig tried to sound sassy, but when he didn’t get any attention, his face went plain.

“Don’t worry, McDermott. We will get back to our conversation one day.” Patrick winked at him and offered you a hand, expecting you to take it. When you did, he pressed a brief kiss on the back of your hand.

Tim whistled at the sight and you ignored him, but you couldn't stop Patrick from shamelessly grabbing your ass as you two were leaving.

“Have fun, Bateman. But don’t make your neighbors call the cops.” Bryce added, making everyone laugh. Frowning, you looked at Patrick, expecting him to say something that would calm his coworkers down.

“I’ll call them if you don’t return those porn videotapes I gave you last week.” Bateman crooned with a cheeky smile and after that, he led you to the exit, so you could only catch a glimpse of Timothy’s blank face before you eventually left Dorsia.

In the taxi you both remained silent. You couldn't help but feel a little offended by the way his colleagues behaved, and the thing you hated the most was that you knew that if you told Patrick about it, he would just shrug it off and say that there was nothing special about it.

"Honey?" Bateman suddenly interrupted your train of thoughts with his playful voice, as if he could read your mind. Sometimes it was even scary how perfectly he could sense your mood.

"You have terrible friends, you know that?" You replied, disregarding his flirtatious tone.

With a cocky chuckle, he wrapped his hand around your shoulder when he saw you crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

"Well, I know they're not the greatest people..." He paused, wondering what to say to cheer you up.

"And I don't like it when you treat me like I'm one of those stupid bimbos," you finally turned to him and pushed his hand away harshly. "How many times do I have to explain this to you and—"

His tight grip on your throat made you choke for air, and you nearly shrieked at his unexpected roughness.

"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, little girl." Patrick growled into your ear, and you thanked God that the partition in the taxi was closed. "How many times have I told you I don't like this kind of attitude?"

Closing your eyes, you whimpered from lack of oxygen and tried to say something, but he didn't even give you the chance to do it as he covered your mouth with his greedy one. Bateman reveled in all your muffled, pitiful sounds, kissing you hard while his other hand slipped under your dress to possessively get a handful of your soaked pussy. Damn it! Instead of being scared, you were so fucking aroused and that only made the whole situation worse, because after Patrick let go of you, he sneered in the most arrogant way and brought his long fingers, coated in your flavor, to his lips to taste it.

"Don't ever compare yourself to those bitches," he reminded you, fixing the hem of your dress and gently stroking your leg; his face softened as he let out a disappointed sigh. "After all, I missed you so much, (y/n). And I thought you missed me, too."

"I missed you, I really did!" You panicked a little. Patrick was such a master of manipulation, a few moments ago you had accused him and his friends of having bad manners, and now you felt guilty about making that scene.

"So why did we have this shitty conversation about my colleagues and their whores instead of talking about us?" Patrick replied in a challenging tone, his big palm was still on your knee, but this time you didn't dare to brush it away.

"Because it makes me sad!" You blurted out and looked at him, now staring at the scenery through the taxi window.

"Fine, I won't take you to dinners like these anymore." His annoyed voice echoed in your ears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking at his comment. You lowered your head down and cried, barely audible, but somehow Bateman immediately noticed.

"Are you crying, (y/n)? Seriously?"

"Patrick, maybe I should go home? I don't feel well and I don't want to disappoint you with—"

"Enough of this bullshit, okay?" He suddenly pressed you against his chest, letting you hug him around his waist. "I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever."

Where was your good mood and that sparkle that set your body on fire when you were in the restaurant? God, you hated yourself for acting like that, but his friends — those stupid yuppies — always made you sick to the stomach, but this time you really had lost your patience. And even though you calmed down now and hid your face in the crook of Patrick's neck, the tension between the two of you was still in the air, and you didn't really know what to expect when you arrived at his place.

After almost an hour, you were sitting on his big bed, completely naked and still shivering — you could still feel his touch on your most sensitive spots as Bateman had just washed you in the bathtub, rubbing and massaging you everywhere.

When you heard a soft click of the bedroom door, you raised your eyes to see him coming in, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, his red tie loosened and some of the top buttons undone.

"How do you feel, babydoll?" Patrick asked you teasingly, shaking the glass in his hand and leaning against the door.

You swallowed hard when his super dark eyes glided over your exposed curves, and you had to hold back your rapid breathing, because you were so damn excited. " Much better, thank you."

Bateman let out a low chuckle before placing his drink on the shelf and coming a little closer to you, puffing on his cigar.

"Good," he smiled and blew a few rings of smoke. "Now show Daddy how you learned to use my gift."

His words forced the blood in your veins to curse faster, making your skin burn from the inside out. With a loud gasp, you lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows and spreading your legs wide, so he could see your succulent pussy.

As soon as you did so, Bateman clenched his chiseled jaw and almost bit down on the cigar, but he kept watching your little hand slide between your thighs, and when it reached your soaped slit, he couldn't help but growl — he'd been rock hard all this time, but now it was getting really painful.

"P-Patrick, I'm scared..." you whimpered abruptly, taking the pink silicone dildo — the one that has been laying beside you on the bed — and rubbing it along your taut lower lips to lubricate it. "It's so embarrassing."

"Oh, I know, honey. I know," he purred in his usual seductive voice, and unbuttoned his blue shirt. "But you don't have to be embarrassed. Trust me, baby, Daddy knows what's best for you."

Damn, that was too much.

Gulping and closing your eyes, you threw your head back and tried to let it go, placing the dildo at your dripping entrance, and the next second you cried out from the feeling of fullness as you pushed it deep into your womb.

"Such a good girl."

"D-Daddy!" You let out a high-pitched wail, focusing on his raspy voice as you were too embarrassed to open your eyes.

"Go on," Bateman exhaled sharply, putting the cigar in the ashtray, and then he unzipped his pants, his hot flesh literally pulsating. "You make Daddy so proud."

"Mhhm," his words made you arch your back, and you began to pump yourself with the sex toy, sensing a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen. "Pat-Patrick, please… talk to me!"

He didn't answer at first as he continued to undress, slowly stroking his engorged cock. "Ahhh, this is so fucking sweet," Patrick grunted, smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip. "Can't do anything without my guidance, am I right, my babydoll?"

"Awww—yes," you gasped, your legs already shaking. "N-need you, Daddy! Need you so much…!"

At that moment, you didn't care about anything in the world, just the buzzing feeling in your core. There was only one person who could give you that vital release you needed so desperately, and you were more than ready to beg him if he asked you to.

"You know what," Bateman murmured as he finally undressed and joined you on the bed, and when you felt his big palm on your hip, you thought you were going to combust, but he gently stroked your cheek, soothing you a little, whispering: "Shh, my little one. Not yet."

You literally writhed on the sheets like a trapped kitten, afraid to breathe, afraid to say anything that would ruin this moment.

"Patrick..."

"Yes, dear... I'm here," he covered your hand with his bigger one, pushing the dildo even deeper, making you scream. "That's it, that's how you do it!"

"Awww, oh my GOD!" you tried to close your legs as the friction became too intense and Bateman just snickered at your pathetic attempt to stop him, so he just grabbed your throat and yanked it a little against the bed. "D-Daddy, it hurts!"

"Oh yeah?" Patrick couldn't hide his excitement when he saw your eyes watering, but his inner beast craved more. "I really wanted to be nice to you today, but you made me change my mind."

"Ahhh!" You clawed at his hand, which was choking you hard, but this man was too strong. "I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'M SO SORRY!"

The way he shoved the dildo into your bruised cunt was so fucking brutal that for one second you blacked out as the apex of it hit your cervix pretty brutally.

When you opened your eyes and yours met his, all you could see was lust mixed with rage. Huffing, Bateman suddenly moved down to your face to nip at your lips, then suck them and lick your cheekbone as he relished having such control over you. With a devilish grin, he continued to squeeze your neck, forcing you to fuck yourself with the dildo that was now completely covered in your juices.

"Do you hear that sound?" He taunted you, hovering over you and pressing you down with his massive muscles. "You're dripping like a fucking waterfall! So don't try to pretend you're not enjoying it, slut!"

"I'm going to explode!" Was all you could manage to scream as your whole body tensed like a spring.

"Awww, you're going to cum from fucking yourself with a cheesy sex toy, what a pathetic little whore!" Patrick almost barked these words in your face, but then he suddenly released your neck and went down to your collarbone, leaving wet, red marks here and there. "Keep going and don't you dare stop!"

Your eyes rolled back in your head when his wet tongue began to play with your swollen nipples, not to mention when he took one of them into his mouth and sucked it so eagerly that you cried out in pain. Trembling, you let him use your hand to set the pace, your inner walls aching every time the dildo brushed hard against them.

When Bateman noticed that your little frame was quivering too much, he quickly slipped down between your legs to suck on your clit and holy shit, he was so good at it, he definitely knew what he was doing.

"I—mhm, I'm gonna cum… Daddy, p-pleaseeee!" You were no longer moaning — at this point you were literally screaming, and your throat was burning, but that only spurred him on to eat you more fiercely.

"Mmmm, I've been thinking about tasting this pussy," he tugged on your sensitive bud before swirling his tongue around it. "For so fucking long."

Another deep thrust, followed by his merciless lapping at your oversensitive cunt, made your orgasm wash over you like a huge ocean wave. Shaking, your half-opened mouth froze in a silent cry as all your insides spasmed too intensely, and this sensation lasted so long that you almost fainted.

"Jesus, what a dirty girl you are," Patrick chuckled after he pulled away from your pussy and removed the dildo, his face covered in your wetness, it was literally running down his chin. "Look at that, you fucking cummed all over my face!" He forced you to look at him, and your dazed glance coaxed a loud chuckle from him. "You think I'm done with you?"

"I..." You tried desperately to pull yourself together, but the overstimulation hit you so hard that your brain refused to function at all.

"Yes, I'm talking to you!"

"Aww, w-wait!" You wailed loudly as he grasped your head and forced you closer to the edge of the bed. "Daddy!"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me," his ominous intonation was kinda scary, but you had no choice but to submit. "Don't worry, honey... I'm just going to play with your mouth a little..."

With a quick thrust, he pushed himself into your mouth, since you didn't really have any power to protest. Although it would have been pointless to do it anyway. You expected him to face fuck you really hard, but instead Bateman gently took your chin for support as his hips began to move faster, petting your head each time his red, swollen tip hit your throat.

"Arghh, your mouth feels so good, I missed that."

Patrick stroked your cheek almost lovingly, ignoring the way that you were almost gagging on his thick cock, savoring his cum and keeping eye contact with him. Grunting, he didn't last long as he collapsed into your mouth, rolling his hips and spilling his sticky liquid deep down your throat, and you didn't make any pathetic sounds, no whimpering or sobbing — you just took what he gave you. With your eyes closed, you drank him dry and heard him murmur:

"For now, I forgive you."

Slowly, Bateman pulled out from your abused mouth, leaving a trail of his cum and letting a few drops fall on your breasts.

"Clean them," he pointed at your tits, pumping his still hard cock and watching you catch the drops of his cum with your fingers. "Now get on your knees and spread your legs wide."

Whimpering, you obeyed and Patrick didn't waste any time, positioning himself behind you and wrapping his strong hands around your waist.

"Ahhh, Patrick..."

"Shush," he cut you off, rubbing his creamy cock between your ass cheeks. "I'm not going to fuck you in the ass, even though you really deserve it."

He rammed into your aching pussy without any mercy, stretching you even more from the inside and making you cry, your hands helplessly creasing the sheets beneath you.

"IT HURTS! AW!" You squealed as he pinned you down, forcing you to lie on your stomach as he trapped you under his massive body, relentlessly drilling your little hole.

"What? My dick is way bigger than that dildo, huh?" Bateman mocked you shamelessly, the slapping sound your bodies made was like music to his ears. "Ohh, what a poor little girl… mmhhm… I promise you… by the end of this night you will be so fucking full of my cum — that it will pour out, but I won’t stop… even if you beg me to!"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

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headcanonsandmore · 4 months

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Harry Houdini with every Doctor (1-15):

One: Something akin to professional curiosity. One starts chortling during a particularly daring escape, and Houdini decides he likes this stranger.

Two: Houdini flirts with Jamie who, of course, doesn't notice. But the Doctor does, and starts to wonder.

Three: This flamboyant peacock of a man explodes into Houdini's life. Having now understood what his predecessor was trying to figure out, Three takes no time in thoroughly having a lot of fun. Houdini is very happy about this.

Four: An interesting case. Less of a raw physical relationship and more like two colleagues who ended up lounging around each other and thought 'why not?'.

Five: They have tea together. Houdini is amused by the Doctor constantly bickering with the young Australian, whose girlfriend Nyssa is lovely. He isn't sure why the Doctor doesn't seem to notice this about the two women, though.

Six: More raw physicality again. Houdini got used to the coat after a while.

Seven: Houdini doesn't understand why the time lord keeps avoiding introducing him to his young friend Ace.

Eight: Whirlwind romance with lots of day drinking.

War: Houdini wonders why the Doctor hasn't visited in a while, and is faintly worried by the absence.

Nine: The time lord appears on Houdini's door one evening in the rain. They don't speak much at first, so Houdini just cuddles Nine. Sometimes he can see a deep grief in their eyes, and it scares him.

Ten: Houdini would like it to be physical but this face is somehow more depressed than the last. He wonders who this 'Rose' person is. The Doctor tells him to stay away from someone called... Captain Jack? Houdini doesn't understand, but he takes the Doctor at their word.

Eleven: They mostly talk about escapology. Eleven does kiss him once or twice, but they decide it's better to leave things at that.

Twelve: Surprisingly physical and tender. Whose are the names he whispers in quiet moments, seemingly without realising? Who is River? Who is Missy? Who is Clara?

Thirteen: The woman thing wasn't a big deal, but Houdini is baffled by the sheer intensity of the Doctor this time. She apologises whenever he gets close, saying that she isn't really into that at the moment. Houdini asks who this 'Yaz' is; the Doctor waves the question away, with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes and a blush that she doesn't seem to notice.

TenThree/ David Doctor/ Sorry-Mr-Tennant-I-can't-call-you-Fourteen: Houdini is happy that this face seems to have finally gotten some peace. His niece Rose seems lovely.

Fifteen: Houdini is physically reminded of the dandy again. In all the best ways.

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gyllenhaalstories · 10 months

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SOMETHING TO RELY ON — DETECTIVE LOKI 🖤

summary: detective loki comes home after a long investigation, needing nothing more than something, or someone, to rely on.

warnings: i can’t write canon and accurate portrayals to save my life, mentions of loki’s work, fluff & comfort. 18+ NO MINORS. yes, even if this fic has no smut, i don’t want minors interacting with my content.

word count: 1700

gifs credits: @/magnusedom (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i have the selfish need to take care of this man and protect him from all the bad things in this world so this is exactly what i’m doing with this fic. no plot, only rambling. 🖤 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“Oh, David.”

He grunted, rejecting what sounded like pity in your voice. It was a reflex, despite you telling him over and over again that you empathized with his hard work. He simply refused to let you feel bad for him.

And you refused for him to not let you do that. How could you not feel bad for your man? He looked dishevelled at best. His clothes were wrinkly, his coat was wet from the rain outside. His beard was unusually long. He smelled of cheap body soap, one labelled a manly tornado of masculine jungle and virile storm clouds.

David started to explain, calculating his words so that he would not speak in vain. He told you that he found a truck stop and used their showers before driving back home. His presence for the investigation was supposed to last a day or two, but he was required to stay on the field for about a week. Unlike his colleagues, he turned his back to the offer of a comfortable bed at the motel and a warm breakfast every morning. He stayed ready and awake for as long and as much as he could, in case of something happening.

You helped him out in silence as he spoke. How you had missed the sound of his voice without the bad network of the phone service struggling to pick up from the place he stayed for the past week. It could have been in the middle of the Bermuda triangle for all you knew, it cut you off too many times and prevented you from falling asleep to the gentle humming of David as he played in his mind songs that looped on the radio during patrol.

He let you remove his drenched coat. He watched you until you disappeared into the bathroom, he assumed you were hanging the coat in the shower where it could drip and dry without making a mess. He loved your attention to details, and how it mirrored his very own. He let you untie his boots so that he could step out of them. He let you do every small and big gestures to get him comfortable.

You offered him a fresh set of clothes, soft worn-out sweatpants and an old t-shirt that had been waiting for his arrival since the moment he walked out of the door. While he changed, you discarded of the dirty work clothes that he wore. You did not comment on how difficult it would be to wash away the dried stains of mud. He was probably kneeling outside in the rain, searching for a piece of information regarding the investigation. Day and night, you knew he devoted himself to his case.

“Love?” He called out for you. He blinked as he caught sight of you, being a busy bee from one room to the other around the house. You hands were full one second, empty the next one. Loki both loved and hated how this all came naturally to you. He loved the ways with which you both took care of each other. You handled the seemingly mindless tasks that weighted heavy on his shoulders while he provided you with a safe, strong presence and with arms to fall into when you needed. When he was actually there.

You finally reappeared in the living room. Your face lit up with a smile at the sight of him. He already looked better in the clean clothes. The shirt stretched over his broad chest, over his soft tummy. “Tell me the story of when you got this t-shirt.”

Loki grinned and looked down at the World’s best fisherman shirt. He explained how he picked it up from the lost and found box at the police station he worked prior to the current one. A cliché altercation between him and a box of donuts had led to him interrogate his first potential criminal with a prideful fisherman shirt. His retelling of the story always made the two of you smile.

It worked as a way to bring his feet down on the ground, to focus on what was important. As a bonus, it was simply entertaining to imagine Loki walking around with that shirt while trying to appear as almighty and professional. “Do you want something to eat?”

The corners of his lips curled into a smile and he followed you to the dimly lit kitchen. In a few swift movements, you had bread, peanut butter, jelly as well as a couple of utensils pulled out on the counter. The final touch was added by David’s arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you assembled his sandwich.

You spread the peanut butter all the way to the crust of the bread and on the other slice, you scooped strawberry jelly and made sure to get chunks of fruit too. Just how he liked it, just how you made it when you packed his lunch for mornings where he was too busy and tired to remember to take care of himself. You pressed the layers together gently and cut it in two triangles, handing him the bigger half.

He thanked you with a kiss on your cheek as he grabbed one of the triangles, taking a big bite out of it. He could easily guess you would have preferred to welcome him home with a big, warm meal. Although, in his mind at this very moment, he saw no difference between that sandwich and something that would have taken hours to make and double the amount of time to bake. And besides, he thought a lot about what he wanted to do during this break from the investigation. He needed to keep his mind and hands busy. This sounded like the right opportunity to invest crazy amounts of time into food you could cook together. Or you’d settle from ordering takeout from the Chinese food restaurant.

You cleaned up once you were both done eating, still with David holding you tight like a safety belt. “Want me to tell you about my day?” He hummed, agreeing. So you did just that, you shared the silly details with him as a way to make him feel included despite his long absence. Sometimes, you disliked sharing stories of your life with him. He was a creature of habit, it was hard to remind David that you were just telling about your encounter with a rude person at the grocery store and it was not an investigation. He would analyze your words, scrutinize your reactions, until you told him to relax.

He did not need such a reminder, at that very moment. Loki leaned his head on your shoulder, not minding how contorted his spine was to maintain him in that position. His eyelids were getting heavy, and so was he. He was half listening and half falling asleep on you.

For every night of the past week, you would have traded anything just to be crushed by his sleeping body and keep him safe and warm. However, you imagined it would be in bed and not laying flat in the middle of the kitchen if you even found the space for that anyway. “Come on, big boy. It’s time for your nap.” You turned gently in Loki’s arms, causing him to gain just enough consciousness to grunt in dissatisfaction. You draped his left arm over your shoulders and held him tightly as you both limped your way to the living room.

Any further, and David would have fallen down on the floor. You helped him to the couch so he could lay down. He shook his head slowly when you presented him with one of the throw pillows. He opened his eyes just long enough to lock his gaze with yours and he grinned when you understood his silent request. He sat up, struggling to stay still, until you joined him on the couch.

You stretched your legs up on the coffee table and you let Loki slowly rest his head on your lap. The sigh he let out made your heart clench inside your chest. He was killing himself trying to save people from dying. All you could do was stand by his side and help keep his head above water for as long as he would let you.

Loki saw it differently. He saw all of the love-filled gestures as a sacrifice as big as his. He appreciated each and every single one of them, and tonight was just the same. He appreciated how you peeled away the layers of stress, of turmoil and of fear. You did that by helping him with his clothes and also by keeping safe physically and at peace mentally.

“It’s okay, now.” You whispered as you placed your right hand on his stubbly cheek, your left one played with his hair. You were soothing both of your souls while trying to make up for all the time he spent away.

You repeated that it was okay over and over again until he, too, said the words to himself. He was okay. For now. And, for now, it was all that mattered. There would never be enough words and actions that could show you how thankful he was to have someone to rely on.

“You’re home.” You smiled down at him and watched him closely as he relaxed under your touch. You stroked your thumb over his lips, tickling his sensitive and chapped skin until his mouth parted open and his breathing slowed down.

He was seconds away from drifting into sleep. His eyelids were heavy. On your thigh, his head was heavy too with all its of horrors and sorrow. His voice sounded gentle and calm. “My love.”

A single tear fell from your cheek and down on the hand that was caressing his. Hearing the words in person rather than on the phone healed the pain that Loki’s absence had put you through once more. You leaned your head back to rest it on the couch and you closed your eyes too. Though it came with all sorts of tribulations, you were just as thankful as him to have someone to rely on.

#detective loki x reader #detective loki #detective loki imagine #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fluff #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal

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hotchfiles · 2 months

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↪ day two. the one who got away — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [no rainfall, no sunshine] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x rossi!reader. summary: if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it. content warnings: major character death (reader), blood, funeral, grief. fem reader, she/her pronouns used by the end. word count: 1.1k

time stood still for what felt like hours, he couldn’t feel his limbs, his legs didn’t move, his mind full of racing thoughts but none making any sense, too jumbled together to be able to complete a single line of action, his eyes burnt and blinking away he noticed it was due the tears. aaron’t didn’t bother to clean them.

not like this. not right now.

the blurriness begins to fade as the sirens became louder, aaron tries to run as his legs obey him once more, but he’s stopped by derek’s arms, holding him back at full force and yelling his name. the yelling seems far away even though it’s in front of him.

“morgan! let me go, let me go!” he tries to give his most stern look, his throat is dry and voice cracks out as he tries to be heard over the commotion, spencer and emily bring helping arms, stopping him from trying. “does she have a pulse? why aren’t they taking her already?”

all he can see is red, from the ambulances, from the sirens, from the blood splattered in the white blouse you chose to wear to work that day. the blue badge hanging on your pocket proudly where red touched: blood and bloodline, rossi.

“where’s dave?” realization dawns on him, he couldn’t get to you because it wasn’t good, and your father was nowhere to be found. “where’s ros–did anyone call david?” it’s all happening fast, in seconds, minutes, but he still isn’t able to let your last name slip out of his tongue, hurting as he thought so.

you’re finally placed on a gurney and he feels a tiny bit of hope, ready to fight the arms of his colleagues, his family, to run to you.

his knees fail him before he could, a dark tarp being pulled over you, your arm slipping from the gurney, lifeless.

not like this. not again.

derek tries to stop him from falling to the pavement, but the weight of his body giving up is too much. aaron ends up sitting on the sidewalk, unable to speak, unable to listen to any comfort anyone tried to bring him. he’s cursed. he’s sure of it now.

if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.

“i didn’t tell her–i thought i had time–i didn’t tell her…” he’s a mumbling barely understandable mess and after that it all mixes up together, all sounds, all images turning into one big blur that turned into the sight of your body being carried away.

next thing he knows he’s at the hospital even though he’s not allowed to recognize your body, he’s not family, even though he had just a week before started to look for engagement rings, he’s not family yet. he didn’t buy one, he didn’t propose.

he can’t sign any papers regarding your death off because he took too long to ask you to go to a courthouse with him, get married, sign papers proving you were part of him as much as he was a part of you instead. all aaron could do was sit down on the first chair he could find, eyes glued to his own hands, sweaty, white from his mental state but clean; not bloody like yours when it dropped from the gurney.

he doesn’t know how much time passes, jj sits by his side, offers him water, coffee, tells him they’ve called home to tell jessica to keep jack for a few more hours.

home. the word alone makes his skin crawl but he doesn’t have enough time to devolve into it, the shuffling of dave’s quick steps snapping him out of it quickly enough for him to watch the older’s hand closed into a fist, the punch to his jaw was the obvious next step but he didn’t move, accepting it gratefully as it was his fault.

it’s the first time he sees david cry and he’s expecting yelling, but he feels arms around him instead.

they cry together. your father tells him he’s sorry for his first reaction, but he knows that’s gonna go deep into aaron’s unconscious for a long time.

it wasn’t his fault, everyone around him kept telling him that and the rational part of his brain did too, but he couldn’t let go of how you were alone because of him. because of how he reacted when you suggested moving in together, getting a bigger place with a backyard for jack.

aaron told you it was too soon, that jack had enough change in his life, that you needed to take things slow. he told you no because he was afraid, terrified of ruining things that were already too good to be true.

you weren’t happy with his response, you went back to your apartment. you were alone.

it was an accident, you stepped on the road too soon, the truck never saw you coming, there was a series of hits after that, several injured, only you fatal. he couldn’t blame anyone, so he blamed himself. it wouldn’t happen if you were with him.

the funeral tears him apart, jack didn’t cry when his mom died, not at first, he didn’t understand, but now he was old enough to understand a funeral meant he would never see you again, so he sobbed embraced by joy, she had tears herself streaming down her eyes from losing her half sister. just a reminder of another person aaron failed.

your father gives a speech about how he wished he had more time, how glad he was about the time he had and tries to lift up the mood by saying that at least he wouldn’t have to look for a murderer, you hated his books about it after all.

no one was sure if aaron would speak, knowing that doing that once was enough for a lifetime, but he needed to, he needed to say it out loud, even if you couldn’t hear it.

“i was always terrified i was going to bite more than i could chew with her–” he smiles to himself, memories of you flooding his mind, “she was a force of nature, and i loved her, i did. i love her still. and i never told her that, she was so patient with me and i never told her how much i love her because i was scared.” he had so much more to say, but he knew he would break down if another word left his lips, so he just stepped aside, taking jack in his arms to comfort and be comforted by his little boy.

he couldn’t sleep that night, or the ones that followed, thinking about how if he told you before how much he loved you, even if you knew without it, if he looked for rings earlier, if he bought one, proposed, if he just got over his fear of losing people and kissed you when you suggested moving in with him… you wouldn’t have slipped through his fingers like that.

aaron is cursed, he knows that.

#marchhotchness #lari march hotchness #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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soleminisanction · 4 months

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I think it’s so fundamentally telling of what sort of person Stephanie is when her reaction to Greta potentially being killed via 10,000 megawatts of electricity isn’t to be sad or devastated or beat herself up about it/ be disappointed in herself (like I think maybe Tim or Batman would be) it’s purely fear of punishment via Robin being angry at her. She did not care whether greta lived or died. She’s never been overly concerned with whether someone died or not and this has been a consistent characteristic of hers, but that’s usually only in reference to criminal characters who you could justify ‘had it coming’ and whatnot. This was just like. Greta read her diary? And Steph then tried to kill her for it? And did not feel any regret upon trying to do so? Tf??

You're not wrong, anon (aside from comedically exaggerating the voltage of a suburban powerline). I considered calling that out in the post and decided it was a tangent that would've distracted from the actual point, which wasn't so much "Yikes, Steph is an asshole" so much as it was, "And this is why you shouldn't always take characters at their word; with good writers, there's often a lot more going on when you pay attention."

Although looking back over the post now, I really have to wonder if the whole issue wasn't Peter David's way of, in part, criticizing how Chuck Dixon was handling the whole Steph-hunts-Tim's-secret-identity storyline.

Peter David is not shy or subtle about working his opinions into his comics, YJ especially, and he definitely knew where the story was going -- the last page of the issue, the one I didn't include on the post, includes a direct reference to the way the arc would soon end, with an editorial note pointing readers to Robin to find out more.

Throughout the fight Secret specifically calls Steph out on invading Robin's privacy multiple times; it lines up with the way David had, for example, negatively portrayed pair of sports hunters in issue #7, or how he wrote Cissie's "It was the guns you idiot" rant from issue #15. Whereas Steph's responses are mostly comments on the immediate situation and personal barbs that deepen Greta's arc, ie, the bit questioning whether she's even human.

And even though YJ was working with the exact same themes and narrative elements, there's never a comparative incident where a member of the team tries to learn Robin's identity behind his back. Again, despite the fact that Secret could do so easily, and despite all the tension the identity issue ultimately ends up causing on the team. Because even if they don't like that he's keeping secrets, they respect that they're his secrets to keep, and Stephanie doesn't. Or rather, Chuck Dixon doesn't, at least not when it comes to his precious pet character.

Heck, there's also the fact that the "lecture" Tim gives at the end, the one hinting towards the storyline's conclusion, hinges on how Batman and Robin is a relationship built on a bond of implicit trust... and how the relationship doesn't work if that trust is broken... and it's hinting at the end of a storyline in which that implicit trust is broken in a way that arguably took Bruce out of character and turns him into the bad guy while not only excusing Stephanie's behavior but rewarding her for it with her first round of actual Bat-training...

Of course, I have zero way of knowing what Peter David was thinking so this is 100% just my analysis but... I could see it. It's a way to professionally express his displeasure without publicly criticizing a colleague or sabotaging their plans. David's a good writer, I wouldn't put it past him.

#young justice #peter david #greta hayes #stephanie brown #the secret #spoiler #batman #robin #dc comics #batfam #meta #chuck dixon #tim drake #dc comics asks

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gyll-yee-haw · 4 months

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*mischevious laugh while i rub my hands together* what about detective loki x reader where he's veeery jealous and possessive and reader "teases" him about a specific guy he hates (not intentionally), maybe she just talk to him in a way that loki considers too friendly and then he end up railing the shit out of her to make her know who she belongs to (maybe with some choking while he says "you're mine"...some breeding kink omg im weak asf

Requesting the real requests here baby 🥵

Sorry it took so long, had to make it extra special for my fave bf <3

Warnings: jealous and very possessive and dom!David, mention of gun use (doesn't happen and it's not around the reader!), choking, so much dirty talk, breeding kink :)

Like 2.3k words

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It was one of those rare days David didn't have much to do at the station and was actually leaving when his shift ended. Since you were out in the city, you told him you would meet him at the station and you could go home together.

Walking in, you greeted some familiar faces, who were used to have you around, waiting for your boyfriend. You sat on a chair and started scrolling through social media, just killing time, not really paying attention to anything.

"Hey." You heard a male voice greeting you. It was Detective Miller, someone you always ran into at the station.

You learned to like him, cause he always calmed you down whenever David was too deep on a case and just disappeared. He didn't mind when you called or showed up, begging him for news. David didn't like him very much, though. He said Miller was annoying and a little laid back. You just laughed, knowing David was the one who worked too hard.

"Hi." You smiled at him.

"Here to report a crime? Did your boyfriend disappear again?" He smirked.

"No." You laughed. Then you saw David approaching. "He's right there, actually."

"Hey." Dave greeted you, ignoring the other man's presence.

You stood up from your chair, to give him a hug.

"Hi. Are you finished for today?" You asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go now." He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, basically forcing you to turn away from his colleague, guiding you towards the door.

Your brows furrowed and you let out a little "ouch" that you knew he heard. He didn't do anything about it, though, just kept walking you to the car.

You got in and he just drove. David was silent the whole time. He was never one to speak much, but there were other small signs that indicated he was mad. Like the way his hands gripped the wheel. During those times, you were always afraid to say the wrong thing and make it all worse, so you chose to be silent too.

At least until you walked into the house. You didn't like to see him like that in there... you couldn't do anything about all the horrible things he saw on the streets and at the station, but your home was his safe place. Where the two of you laughed like the world was peaceful, cuddled like there was no other place to be. He was different at home. He wasn't that pile of stress in front of you, he was your Dave. And that's why you needed to talk to him, do anything to get him out of that state.

"Babe, you wanna talk about your day?" You offered.

He shrugged, taking off his belt, putting his gun and everything away safely.

Your heart fell. He didn't usually treat you so indifferently, no matter what happened at work... no matter how stressed he was, he would never take it out on you. That's when you started to overthink. Well... maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he didn't like your visits at his work place... maybe he didn't really want to see you right now and you were forcing him to? You were annoying him...

"I'm sorry." You murmured.

"What?" He finally turned his attention to you.

"I'm sorry." You repeated, a little louder.

"I heard you." He mocked. "But I'm not convinced."

"I..." You stuttered. You didn't even know what to say. Was he trying to humiliate you just for showing up at the station? You weren't sure anymore.

"Nothing to say now?" He asked, arms crossed, looking at you. "Cause you seemed so talkative earlier with Miller."

Oh. He was jealous? You felt relief wash over you and couldn't hold back your laughter. But as soon as you saw the way he was looking at you, it suddenly became a lot less funny.

"I just..." You realized you would have to explain yourself, and there was something thrilling about it. "I was just being nice."

"Yeah? You decided to be nice to everyone but me?" He questioned.

"Dave, what are you talking about? When was I not nice to you?"

"When you decided to disobey me." He closed his eyes and if you weren't sure where this would end before, now you were. "I don't wanna see you talking to that asshole again, do you understand?"

"Why?" You asked with your sweetest, most innocent voice, and had to bite back a smirk. "He's always so nice to me."

He left out a sigh. You didn't have to be so difficult when he was already so pissed. When he approached, you stood very still. He stopped behind you, one hand delicately placed on your waist in contrast to the other, that grabbed a fistful of your hair. He didn't pull it yet, just left it there, as a warning.

"Yeah, I bet he's so nice to you." He rolled his eyes, breathing on your neck. "Did you know that the other day I almost lost my job? You know why?"

You shook your head slowly, as far as his grip on your hair allowed you to.

"I was having a fucking shitty day and I heard him talking about you. About what a pretty little thing you are." He said, placing kisses on your neck between his phrases. "And how I was so stupid for staying away for so long, cause someone might... have to take my place."

His own words made him angry again. He finally pulled your hair, bringing your body as close as possible to his.

"And it took all of me to not grab my gun right there and then." He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking close to your ear. "But then... I just remembered that I was the one who was coming home to you that night. And the next one. And always, because you're mine, aren't you?"

"Yes." I whispered, since he was close enough to hear it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know..."

"Oh you didn't know?" He released your hair and you felt relieved for a moment. "Then I guess I'll have to teach you a fucking lesson. On your knees, now."

You obeyed immediately, getting on your knees in front of him, in the middle of the living room. You just knew that the less you acted up, the more generous he would be after. The quicker the anger would go away.

"Good fucking girl." His hand went to your chin, forcing you to look up as he shoved two fingers inside your mouth, and you welcomed them, licking in circular motions. "You know what? Think that asshole is right. I'm so stupid."

You frowned confusingly, never stopping sucking his fingers.

"Yeah, I'm stupid for letting him get into my head when I just know I can get you on your knees for me. He can't imagine the things you do for me, like the good little slut you are." He shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth, making you gag a little.

With his other hand, he got rid of his belt and started unbuttoning his pants. Then he removed his fingers from your mouth and you enjoyed the break to breathe, because something indicated that would be the last time you'd be able to do that for a while.

He pushed his pants and underwear down enough to remove his hard cock, giving it a few strokes. Your mouth watered at the mere sight of it.

"Open up, put that mouth to better use than fucking disrespecting me." He said, eyes as dark as they could possibly be.

Again, you wouldn't dare to not do as you were told that night. You allowed him to push his cock inside your mouth a little more gently then you expected him too. But once you fully adapted to it, he began thrusting fast. Hand behind your head, keeping you still for him to use. His moans loud and incoherent.

Then he slowed down, and eventually stopped, removing his cock from your mouth and giving it a few strokes in front of your face. He wasn't going to cum just yet, you knew it was going to be a long night. The thing is that he was pissed. And he just fucked your mouth a little to get to see the tears forming in your eyes, you on your knees... absolutely submitting to him. He wanted to remind himself that he could get you like that, eager to serve him. But he didn't really enjoy being so rough on his princess' pretty face, he knew she could get hurt. With her pussy, though, it was a different story. He could be merciless. And that's exactly what he needed right now.

"On the couch, ass in the air for me." He demanded.

You thought you were in for a long and humiliating spanking session. But he just didn't feel like wasting time that night... and also... he wasn't exactly mad at you, he was just making sure you knew who you belonged to. So all he did was push your panties aside and run his fingers through your folds, making sure you were wet enough.

David was so scary when he was mad, but it was all about these little details... he checked the entire time for any signs that you weren't having fun or that he could hurt you. He would never forgive himself if he did hurt you, even a little bit.

And he was delighted to find that you were soaked, so he could carry on, shoving his cock inside you at once.

"Fuck..." he grunted as you moaned loudly, both in pain from being so brutally stretched out and from the pleasure of finally having him inside you. "You gonna let me mark you as mine, huh? Pussy so tight, squeezing me so good, gonna fuck you until it's the exact shape on my cock, so you won't be able to take anyone but me."

"Dave!" You cried out as he trusted deep and so fast. "Don't want... don't want anyone but you..."

"Good. Cause you're fucking mine." He said, hand wrapping tightly around your throat. "You. Are. Fucking. Mine. Did you hear me?"

"FUCK, YES!" You moaned, feeling like his words were bringing you closer and closer to your release. "I'm yours, Dave, all yours... fuck me, fuck me so good..."

"Yeah? So good, pretty baby?" His movements never lost intensity, but started to lose rythm, indicating he was getting close too. "You know what? Wanna get you fucking pregnant so everyone knows you're always filled with my cum, that I give you everything you fucking need..."

All you could do was scream his name. He had never said anything half that dirty to you before. You were pretty sure not even David knew he had a breeding kink... it was the last thing you would expect from him.

"Dave! Can I please cum, please please please..." you just kept begging, even though your voice was muffled as he pushed your head to the sofa.

"Yes, baby, you're such a good girl, of course you can..." he used a sweet tone that didn't match the loud sounds of his skin collapsing with yours so hard. "Do it, do it now, baby, fuck..."

God, the way you screamed, unable to control your legs, unable to stay still, forcing him to use more strength than he would like to keep your hips under his control, just so he could keep hitting that spot you liked...

God, the way you came so hard, screaming that you belonged entirely to him.

"Fuck, gonna fill you up, my sweet girl..." he said as he felt closer to the edge. "Gonna fucking cum..."

He shoved his cock so fucking deep and gave you every single last angry drop of cum he had. And he kept himself burried that deep as he tried to catch his breath. You were absolutely unable to move, just laying there, feeling absolutely brainwashed as all you could think about was belonging to him.

You left out a whine that almost broke his heart as he removed his cock from you.

"Shhh... I know, baby." He stroked your hair gently. "I'll be right back, okay?"

You weren't strong enough to answer. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and left. Time didn't feel real, but he probably didn't take more than a minute to come back, bringing you a glass of water. He sat on the sofa and helped you sit on his lap to drink it.

"Are you okay, baby?" He asked as he scanned your body for bruises or any sign of stress.

"Yeah, feeling great." You smiled at him, earning a smile back. "Dave... why didn't you tell me about the things you heard that day?"

"I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, I guess." He shrugged. "Besides... it doesn't matter, only you and I know about us... I don't care what he thinks."

"Yeah, but you felt uncomfortable. You should have talked to me about it... next time that piece of shit tries to talk to me, I'm gonna kick him in the balls." You put on your most dangerous expression. One that always made David laugh. "And before you say I'm going to jail: no I won't, I know someone."

"You do?" He chuckled.

"Yeah. Someone who's as mine as I'm his." You leaned closer to his face, lips barely brushing his.

"Glad you know that." He sealed the agreement with a passionate kiss.

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lumoverheaven · 2 months

Text

Sad Little Girl

Mood board by my lovey love @iamasaddie tysm 💗

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Joel Miller x fem!plus size!reader

A/n: hello everyone! I’m back with an actual fic! This one is near and dear to my heart and very personal to me, I hope you enjoy it! Big s/o to @xdaddysprincessxx for proofreading! Ilysm mama 💗💗💗 This fic was made with game!joel in mind! As always constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 🫶🫶💗💗 (reupload to see if it shows on tags bc tumblr is fucking me hardcore rn.)

Warnings: mentions of SA and heavy trauma, age gap (reader is in her 20s Joel is in his 50s), death of a loved one, also David is mentioned. If I missed any lmk!

W/c: 1.5k

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Growing up during the apocalypse wasn’t fun. There were many horrible, disgusting men that would do whatever they wanted. The need to survive set aside, they fucked with other people, especially women to get their twisted pleasure. You had fallen victim to that terrible abuse, but out of some sick and twisted mercy the most that had been done to you was being touched inappropriately and had a man expose himself to you. Worst of all? It was in your own home.

Your dad was a part of the smuggling circle and would often have his colleagues over to discuss routes, plans, and merchandise. One of his least trusted associates was the one that tortured you to no end. Because of that you didn’t feel like yourself, you didn’t feel like a girl. As the days passed you wore baggier clothing, you cut your hair to your shoulders, you bound your chest to get rid of any semblance to a woman. What also helped was that you were bigger than the average girl, you thought that maybe you looked broader, more like a male. This was how you coped, how you pushed everyone away.

When you found out your father died it was like a bucket of cold water to your skin. You didn’t know what you were gonna do or how you were gonna get by. A few days after you received the news about your father, there was a knock on your apartment door. Grabbing one of your father’s weapons you hesitantly opened it to find Joel Miller, your dad’s most trusted acquaintance. You lower your weapon and stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey bunny..” Joel began, you never understood why he called you that, based on your appearance you were nothing like a bunny. Not cute, not soft, not friendly.. You were the opposite. “Sorry ‘bout your dad.. Look, your pa on one occasion told me that if anythin’ were ta happen to ‘im for me to take care of ya.. Now I know you're a grown woman that can make her own decisions and take care of herself but I still wanted to offer ya a place to stay.. I know how awful solitude can be and I really care ‘bout ya..”

You had to process what he was telling you but you liked Joel, though you had some very negative interactions with men in the past, he was the only one you trusted aside from your father. You nodded your head in agreement and as the days and weeks progressed you moved your things little by little to his and Tess’ apartment.

You kept to yourself most of the time, mostly passing your time by drawing, reading, or listening to music when you didn’t work. Tess and Joel would sometimes let you go with them to their smuggling jobs but Joel would keep you close.

Joel noticed something was up with you, he noticed your change from the beginning. While your father thought nothing of it he noticed when his cheery-eyed bunny lost the spark in her eyes and became dull. He wanted to talk to your father about it but he felt like it wasn’t his place to say anything. He noticed how you presented yourself, manlier than you used to be and more quiet. Now this change he mentioned to your father.

“Hey man, I noticed somethin’ up with bunny.. Why she dressin’ like that suddenly? Seems like a drastic change..”

But your dad always brushed it off saying it was a phase that you were going through but Joel knew it was more than that.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

It had been a few months that you had been staying with Joel and Tess when one day after Joel and Tess went after Robert, Joel came back with a 14 year old girl named Ellie. You looked at Joel surprised and he pulled you aside to a room to talk about what was happening. He and Tess were going to deliver this girl to the fireflies at the capital and it wasn’t going to take them long.

“I wanna come.” you told Joel, he shook his head “Nah, just me ‘n Tess.. Too dangerous..” That answer didn’t satisfy you. “I’m coming with you. Whether you like it or not.” and you left to go where Ellie was. Joel chuckled lowly and shook his head again, he knew better than to argue with you, you were a little spitfire, just like your dad.

When your journey began you kept to yourself and only spoke if you heard something or needed something. Ellie tried to talk to you but you would only respond with a nod or a shake.

“What’s up with her.. Him? Nah her?” she asked Tess and Tess chuckled. “I don’t know, kid, she’s a nice lady, just quiet is all.” Joel took that chance to check up on you.

“Ya alright? Need anythin’?” you shook your head and Joel left you be.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Your trip had gone sour, Tess was dead and now you were on route to Lincoln. Tess’ death hit you hard but you know you have to be strong for both Ellie and Joel. After you had all processed her death you figured it would be best to open up now since it was only the three of you left. You began talking more and found that you shared a lot of things in common with Ellie. You two became quickly attached and while Joel did his best to ignore you both, being the ever stoic and grumpy man he is, he was still really happy that you opened up.

Little by little Joel noticed a positive change in you, the sparkle in your eyes was slowly returning and now you openly were conversing and laughing with both Joel and Ellie. Your progress was quickly squandered though when Joel got hurt and by events with David, a creepy school teacher turned psycho cult leader. You took care of Joel while weeping silently, you were scared you were gonna lose the man you trusted, the man you felt safe with. You know you should’ve gone hunting, you know what happened with Ellie is your fault. You both scrambled as you tried to lead David and his men as far away from Joel as possible. But in the end you both got caught. You and Ellie were held in different areas but you panicked as you saw the disgusting look in his eyes. You knew exactly what he wanted to do with you and especially Ellie.

After what happened with Ellie it triggered your PTSD and you just held Ellie as you both wept. You both had been fairly quiet on the trip to the hospital. It killed Joel to not just see one of his girls be quiet and devoid of life but both of them. Especially since you had come such a long way.

That night when Ellie slept he approached you and asked if you both could talk. You agreed and followed him a little away from the camp not to disturb Ellie’s sleep but still keeping a close eye on her.

“Bunny… I’m sorry ‘bout what happened.. you ‘n Ellie didn’t deserve that.. I shoulda been there to protect y’all..” of course Joel blamed himself when it wasn’t his fault at all.. with a sigh you begin to speak. “It’s not your fault Joel.. it’s mine.. I should’ve been more careful towards Ellie.. she.. we..” you burst out crying and for once you felt the warm embrace of someone who loved you. You would cry by yourself at nights, not wanting to disturb your dad with your seemingly insignificant issues.. but for once you cry and you just get held.. you craved that more than anything else.. as much as it pained you, you told Joel everything that happened in the QZ for years before your father died.. he clenched his jaw and held you tighter..

“I wish ya woulda said somethin’ bunny.. never liked that freak anyway.. woulda killed ‘em for ya..” Joel whispers as his lips pressed into your hair. You chuckled and just let the tears fall. It felt good to get it off your chest, to let Joel in.. you felt safe, you felt secure in his arms.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

When you return to Jackson, you’re a whole new person. You and Joel live together in a house while Ellie lives in her shed. You’ve begun to let your hair grow out again, decorating it with cute hair accessories you would find, you’re wearing pretty, fitting clothing, even dresses! Joel sees how brightly you’re shining. No longer are you the shy quiet girl that people assumed was a brute boy. You changed totally. You were truly beautiful in his eyes. You were thankful for Joel, he made you feel safe, he made you feel true peace. Enough to where you felt like you didn’t have to protect yourself anymore, enough to where you could finally be yourself and not worry about getting hurt. He would protect you, he would be there for you. You were his bunny, you finally felt at home.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller x you

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Never Grow Up

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader, Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: The role Gideon played as Rossi-Reid grew up.

A/N: This is sad. This is really sad. I don't apologize. Embrace the sad.

Based off Taylor Swift's Never Grow Up

CW: typical criminal minds talk of murder, very sad and angsty

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Your little hands wrapped around my finger And it's so quiet in the world tonight Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreamin' So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

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Dave looked down at the little bundle of blankets that rested in his arms. It was a big day for the newest Rossi family addition- the team had come over to meet you for the very first time. It had been a lot for Dave, too. He thought profiling was the hardest, most time consuming, soul-sucking, job in the world, but you had proved him wrong. Turns out that the hardest, most time consuming, soul-sucking job in the world was being a parent.

But the joy you brought him made up for it all.

For about an hour the BAU agents had passed you around and Dave was grateful that after all the action you were dozing off in his arms, one of your impossibly small hands wrapped around his pointer finger. He smiled tiredly, knowing he had to put you down in your crib soon before he spent another night admiring your adorably tiny features. He sighed quietly and sent you down, hoping that you wouldn’t wake up. Your eyelids fluttered- hopefully with good dreams- but other than that you didn’t stir.

He walked over to turn on the nightlight; it was a gift from Gideon. The tiny plastic sparrow illuminated the room the perfect amount, but Dave couldn’t get over his closest colleague’s strange fascination with birds. Of course, you loved the little plastic bird- when you awoke at night you’d cry at first, but by the time your dad got to your room you’d be goggling at the feathered figure.

“Mio Passerotta.” It slipped out before Dave even had a chance to think about it. The Italian nickname was common enough that no one would think it was odd, but it felt more right than that. Gideon had named his son Stephen, in honor of Dave. It only felt right that your term of endearment- something your dad had thought about more than your actual name- was an ode to his friend. “Sogni d’oro, my sparrow. Ti voglio bene.”

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To you, everything's funny You got nothing to regret I'd give all I have honey If you could stay like that

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“Uncle Jason!” Your little legs carried you towards Gideon’s desk as fast as they could. “Uncle Jason look!”

“What is this?” he said in an exaggerated voice as you handed him a piece of paper and climbed into his lap. Your preschool and daycare were closed due to a holiday, but work never stopped at the BAU, meaning your dad had no choice but to bring you into the office. None of the agents minded- you brought a joy to the space so pure that it almost made the horror of their jobs disappear, even if it was only for the day.

Lucky for them you were now three years old and had recently discovered a love for drawing and coloring, which meant scrapped preliminary profiles that were blank on one side could be recycled into canvases for your artwork. Gideon couldn’t decide if it was right or not- having you put images of rainbows and butterflies on papers that had lists of victims names on the other side- but he tried not to think too hard about this.

“Wow!” Gideon held you steady on his lap with one hand and your drawing of… something… in the other. “Is this for me?”

“Yes!” You smiled up at him. “It’s a bird cos you like birds.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll hang it right here.” He tacked the picture up on the bulletin board that sat on his desk, next to the other three drawings of birds you had done that day for him.

“I should draw one wearing a hat!” you giggled. Gideon wasn’t sure what was so funny about the idea of a bird wearing a hat, but it made him chuckle anyway.

“(Y/N)!” your dad called for you.

You turned to Gideon. “I have to go, but I’ll be back!” You ran off towards your dad’s desk.

Gideon watched to make sure you didn’t fall. He opened up the file he had been so careful to close before you came over. Inside were pictures of young women with your same hair and eye color, each assaulted and murdered in cold blood. With a heavy heart, he looked over to you, innocently drawing another picture with your crayons.

Oh what he would give for you to stay like that.

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You're in the car on the way to the movies And you're mortified your mom's droppin' you off At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

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Aaron Hotchner was a man known for his calm and cool demeanor, but he was also known for his ambition, and occasionally that ambition made him more excited than normal. Recently, his ambition had led him to become an agent at the BAU. It was something he’d wanted since he first heard about the unit, and though he managed to make himself look poised on the outside, he couldn’t hide the fact that he was probably shivering in his suit. They really should warn the new agents that the basement, which served as the unit’s headquarters, could go from being a sauna one day to the arctic tundra the next day.

The heavy metal doors of the BAU opened, letting the cool air from the hallway sweep across his desk. He shook off the need to chatter his teeth and went back to his paperwork. It was beginning to feel tedious, doing the grunt work of all the agents above him. He knew that next week he would get to start looking at actual cases. After a few months he would be allowed to consult on simple profiles over the phone with small police stations that called for help. Maybe even if he worked hard enough he could make it into the field before he hit his first year-

“Agent Hotchner, over here!” Someone called to him from the outskirts of the space, where the senior agents had their desks. He suppressed a groan at the idea that another file would be added to his seemingly endless pile, but when he looked over at the person who had called him, they weren’t holding out a file.

David Rossi, the senior agent who approved Aaron’s request to join the unit, was walking towards him. Next to the senior agent was you. Aaron had seen you before of course, but he had never taken time to really look at the 14 year old that came into the BAU around 4 PM every day. But now there was no doubt in his mind that you were David Rossi’s daughter- your facial expressions, posture, and the way you walked was nearly identical to your dad’s.

“Agent Rossi,” Aaron stood up from his desk as the two of you approached.

“Please, Aaron,” Rossi said. “Just call me Dave. Now, this is my daughter, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Agent Hotchner. Now, I have a flight to catch for an emergency case and the TSA is going to be a pain in my ass like they usually are.” He handed Aaron a key. “This is for SUV number 4 in the parking garage. Don’t crash it, but (Y/N) has to meet her friends in 25 minutes and the movie theater is 30 minutes away. Thanks.”

Dave gave Aaron a quick pat on the shoulder and then walked past him, his go-bag in hand, leaving the young agent alone with his daughter. Aaron honestly wasn’t sure whether he should be offended or not.

“Sorry you got put on babysitting duty,” you said, though you didn’t sound apologetic. “But we have to go.” You began to walk off.

Aaron blindly shoved papers into his brief case before following you out the doors of the BAU. “I’ll uh-” He looked down at his watch. “I’ll have to ask where the SUVs are kept-”

“No need.” You walked easily into the elevator and pressed a button. “I know this place like the back of my hand.”

You seemed confident enough in your manner that he didn’t question you. Aaron took a deep breath to try to compose himself. He was usually good at working under pressure, but something like this had never happened to him.

The elevator stopped and you walked off. Aaron followed you. Surely enough, you knew exactly where the SUV was kept. As he drove, you tried to get him to take short cuts to the movie theater, but he refused to listen. Still, you got there on time. He was about to pull up to it when-

“You can just drop me off here,” you said. The theater was about a block away. “I’ll just walk.”

Aaron shook his head. “Your dad trusted me and-”

“And I get made fun of every time I get dropped off somewhere in a government vehicle.”

Aaron looked over at you. The confidence that had shone through before dimmed just a bit. Aaron remembered being 14… thinking about all the things he wished he could do but he couldn’t. He knew that teenage desire to have independence; to be able to call the shots in your own life.

Honestly, he was experiencing a bit of it right now being new at the BAU- having this need to look good for everyone, wanting to impress those around him, hoping that they’d loosen his leash just a little bit…

“One day what the other kids say about you won't matter,” he said and pulled up in front of the theater to drop you off. “Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, my actual babysitter will be here soon,” you replied. “Thanks for the ride, Hotch.”

“Don’t call me that,” he retorted.

You smirked at him before shutting the car door. You walked into the theater, but saw that Hotch was lingering around, just to make sure you really were okay, before finally leaving.

You hurried out to the payphone in front of the theater and dialed the number. “He stuck around for an extra seven minutes,” you said into the phone. “Trusted me enough to follow me to the SUV but didn't budge when I told him it'd be quicker to take the short cut. I'd give him a B+. Maybe an A-.”

You knew that Jason Gideon was smiling on the other end of the phone. “I guess he passed,” your uncle said. “I'll be there to pick you up soon.”

You hung up the phone, your part in the BAU new agent hazing ritual complete. Agent Hotchner had taken enough command, trusted you but not too much, and followed through with your saftey.

Part of you wondered if there was more to the "test" than just a good laugh for Gideon and your dad. Maybe you'd find out one day.

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So here I am in my new apartment In a big city, they just dropped me off It's so much colder than I thought it would be So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on

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After finding the letter at Gideon’s cabin, you held Spencer for what felt like hours as he cried. You wanted to cry too, but the shock of it all was too much. It wouldn’t sink in, like your body and mind refused to accept that it had happened.

Spencer left for the bathroom to take a shower. You knew he was probably standing under scorching hot water, trying to wash away the pain of it, or feel something other than grief. Normally you would have gone in and turned the temperature down, but your heart wouldn’t let you.

Right now, all you wanted was some sleep.

You slipped on your most cozy pajamas, tossing your tear-stained clothes in the hamper. The entire apartment felt colder than normal. You went to tuck yourself into bed, but stopped before you could get comfortable. Spencer would get out of the shower eventually and being the gentleman he was, he wouldn’t turn on the light in an effort not to wake you. You slipped out of bed and padded over to the nightlight to turn it on.

The little sparrow had faded in color, but it was still your favorite nightlight. You went to flip the switch, but it didn’t turn on; and for some reason, you knew that it wouldn’t matter if you changed the bulb or not… it wasn’t going to light.

It would never light again.

Whether your heart or your legs crumbled first, you weren’t sure, but you were on the ground. Your body shook and tears fell, but you made no noise. You stayed there, on the cold wooden floor, your head buried in your arms and your legs tucked up to your chest, until a hand fell on your shoulder.

You looked up in the dark to see Spencer, and then turned back to the sparrow that had lost its light forever. He sat down next to you and let you lean into him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly. It was his turn to take care of you now, and he knew that. Sometimes that meant asking you if you wanted to say something, even if you said nothing at all.

You looked at the bird in the darkness, remembering your life… your childhood room, the sound of the door opening when your dad got home, the way your footsteps had grown against the concrete floors of the old BAU headquarters, the wise words that Gideon always spoke. It was before your heart had been broken, before you had been hurt and scarred, before you had been deserted; back when everything was simple.

“I-” you started. “Sometimes I wish I never grew up.”

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Taglist:

@doctorsteeb@saturnluvvr@padsfirewhisky@staygoldsquatchling02@mycoolusernamesstuff@reidstileschishiya

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #rossi x daughter!reader #david rossi x daughter!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #the rossi reid

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aledethanlast · 5 months

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Seriously, how are those FBI agents doing in that Baltimore hotel for the David Wesninski AU? They signed up for none of this, yet here they are, dealing with the craziest family drama any of them have ever witnessed. Honestly, their faces when it gets confirmed that Wymack is the identical twin of this serial killer must be priceless

The first thing you need to understand about fbi ops is, you don't just write those up on a whim. Theres investigations and plans and preparations. They were prepared for the Hatfords to push the agreed boundaries and kill against orders. That's why they were contacted in the first place. They were prepared for the cleanup, and the inquiries, and to throw the Hatfords under the bus as an excuse to begin what was sure to be a years-long investigation into Nathan Wesninski's network.

The second thing you need to understand about law enforcement operations is that you're either going shit shit shit shit shit when things are going according to plan and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck when they aren't.

So, on the whole? It was a shitty night. The whole thing got pushed back by like two hours because of an alleged break in, and then by three more hours after a fight with op command on how much can they look over the police's shoulder without tipping their hand. And then it all goes down, and there's corpses everywhere, and it's all gone to shit...

And then Junior is on the front lawn.

Which, first of all, how are you not dead? Rhetorical question, clearly Nathan tried. Second, no seriously, how are you not dead. The fuck you mean it's a secret bitch I will [redacted]-

But it's fine. It's fine. Actually, hold on, this is great. They get to skip years of investigation all it costs is some witness protection. The kid seems like a real shithead but once they get him talking...

And then Towns says "We gotta talk about his team."

Oh right, them. "Once they calm down we'll give them a basic rundown of what's happening and send them home. Considering what they said so far it doesn't sound like they know much."

But Towns shakes his head. "You don't know who they are, do you?" Browning raises a brow. "Palmetto State Foxes?" Nope. "Edgar Allen. The ravens." Nope. "Kevin Day?"

That does sound familiar, but Browning knows he doesn't get the points for that. "Sure, one of the other players, no?" He never cared for exy, personally, and while he gets that people get excited about college sports he's always believed in some healthy iconoclasm. He shakes his head.

Towns grumbles. Then out of nowhere, he says, "Call Suzie."

"What?"

"Call her. Right now. Put her on speaker."

She should be at lunch, so Browning obliges, but he really doesn't see what his teenage daughter has to do with...

Click. Suzie's high, confident voice. "Daddy?"

"Hey Suzie, it's Freddie, your dad's pal from work," Towns says.

"Oh. Um. Hey?" Suzie sounds nervous suddenly. "Is my dad okay?"

They both suddenly realize what this call must look like, especially after Browning hadn't come home last night, and they both rush to reassure her that he's fine. "We've just had a long night," he reassures her. "No, I'm just calling because...hey Freddie, why am I calling?"

It's Towns' turn to raise an eyebrow, as if to say watch this. "Nah, I was just wanted a reminder, what's your husband's name again?"

Silence. A quick, sharp inhale, and in his mind's eye Browning can see his daughter's eyes focus like an eagles. "Well, first of all, it's future husband, because daddy says that the law says I have to be 18 to get married..."

Ohhhhh.

Fuck.

"But his name is Kevin Day. He's the world's best exy player, even after he had an accident last year. A lot of people abandoned him but I'm never gonna because when a mom and a dad love each other very much..."

A thousand dinner conversations run through Browning's head line an electric current as he opens his phone browser and searches the name. The results look nothing like the bruised shell of a man his colleagues have stuck in a hotel room, but they look like every poster on Suzie's wall. A terrible, terrible thought strikes him. "What about his friend. The, um, the short one."

The response is automatic. "Neil is cute too I guess. There aren't as many good posters of him, but Jessica from biology did her binder from shots she printed from youtube. Her dad yelled at her for wasting the ink."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

#david wesninski au #aftg #browning gets back home from work to find his daughter ready to murder him for arresting Jessica's husband #browning: I thought we didn't even like jessica?#suzie: WE DON'T BUT IM GONNA MEET KEVIN AT THEIR ENGAGEMENT PARTY AND HOW DOES THAT WORK IF HE'S IN JAIL

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cellarspider · 2 months

Text

26/?? PIE to the face

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We return to a movie that is going to linguistically hurt me again, Prometheus. You get to read a ramble about PIE. You’re welcome.

Content warning for MORE OF ME. I cannot be stopped.

So. Imagine you have found a sleeping alien. You believe that they were on a mission to destroy humanity as a disappointment. What do you do? Not waking them up is certainly an option. But what if you do? You’re going to want to not disappoint them.

One could, for example, study the records still maintained within the alien ship. Learn about their culture. Get more than one guy to learn their language, particularly since this translator you’ve got seems to be a little gung-ho on things like “seeing [his] parents dead.” That’s a bit of a warning sign.

And hey, something horrible happened on this ship, probably right before or right after this alien was put into hibernation. There’s a lot of dead bodies on the ship. Having a trauma counselor or three there would be a good call. People trained in de-escalation, definitely. Give you a chance to talk the alien down, and help them process stuff in what’s hopefully a culturally appropriate manner, given your xenological research before waking them up.

You’ll probably want to make sure to take the “kill humanity” button away from them too, that would be a good idea. And, preferably, not have exploded the head of one of their colleagues.

Am I describing a process that would take years? Yes. It should. This is the most important thing humanity’s ever done.

It’s been two days since the Prometheus landed.

As stated before, my faith in fictional humanity was not high in this scene.

David wakes the Engineer up. Rather than any of the measures I described above, the Engineer is met with David, Weyland, some security guys, Doctor Franenstein the head-exploder, and Shaw.

It took most of the humans a good hour or so to stop looking like death after waking up after a two year nap, and this Engineer’s been under for a thousand times longer. The poor bugger is visibly hung over and feeling sick, almost falling over on Weyland.

Shaw starts demanding David ask where they’re from, what’s in the ship’s cargo, why was it made for humans, all in English as Weyland tries to talk over her. They are speaking a language that only took its modern form 1600 years after the last events on this ship took place. The Engineer has zero clue what anyone’s saying.

The Engineer remains silent, and visibly disturbed by how Wayland orders his security guy to hit Shaw, which just makes the still unintelligible questions louder and less coherent.

And then David starts speaking to them.

There was a short dialog between them filmed, but in the final cut, the Engineer doesn’t speak at all.

The final cut also removes Weyland’s pitch for why he should have immortality–he created life in David. David is something more perfect than human. Therefore Weyland is a god, and gods never die.

This is, as you can imagine, not convincing. It would’ve made Weyland slightly more explicable as a character, but the movie hasn’t even done that for its lead, so of course it doesn’t for Old Man Capitalism.

In the full release, David only says a few sentences. To quote Anil Biltoo, who wrote the translation:

The line that David speaks to the Engineer (which is from a longer sequence that didn’t make the final edit) is as follows: /ida hmanəm aɪ kja namṛtuh zdɛ:taha/…/ghʷɪvah-pjorn-ɪttham sas da:tṛ kredah/ A serviceable translation into English is: ‘This man is here because he does not want to die. He believes you can give him more life’.

This is–okay. In the theater, I did not know precisely what this language was. But I was making a fair imitation of the Engineer's expression in response to this, because I was pretty sure it was PIE.

Proto-Indo-European, that is. A massive swath of world languages are all traceable back to one source, though we have no records of it. Linguistic reconstruction of how they evolved from earlier roots allows us to infer a language that must have existed, and we call that the Proto-Indo-European language. PIE for short. And this is a big ol’ slice of PIE right here.

And I had a whole thing in early drafts of this post. I’d convinced myself over the years that my inexperience with PIE had led me astray in the theater. I’d convinced myself this was a PIE conlang. Meaning, I thought this was a language created for this movie that sounds like a cousin to PIE. That’s still howlingly weird, for reasons I’ll get into. But then I saw this featurette:

youtube

[Video description: A behind the scenes featurette for Prometheus entitled “Language Of The Gods”. It interviews Anil Biltoo on his work for the movie, in which he explains the concept of a proto-language, of PIE in specific, and what he did for the movie.]

It’s PIE. It’s a different reconstruction of PIE than the current standard, but it’s PIE.

And I feel vindicated, because that’s what I heard in the theater. David opened his mouth and out came PIE.

I can actually read a few words in the excerpt. I could hear them in the theater. The word /hmanəm/ is clearly meant to be a root word of “man”, which standard reconstructions indicate is the descendent of PIE *ǵʰmṓ. /Namṛtuh/ is very clearly from PIE *ne-mért, “not-die”, because anything that looks like “mort” in an indo-european language probably has something to do with death. And “/kredah/” is close to PIE *ḱréddʰh₁eti, hence Latin “crēdit”, hence modern italian “créde”, “he believes”.

PIE is just like that, sometimes. Some roots are unrecognizable, others are instantly identifiable. I’ll include my attempt at a gloss (a brief technical explanation of the meaning and grammar) at the end of the post.

The implication is that the Engineers taught their language to humans. That was Proto-Indo-European, which then spread from there. I almost started laughing in the theater at this.

In the real world, we know a few things about where PIE came from. PIE was probably spoken by people north of the Black Sea, at least five thousand years ago. This guy who’s just woken up with a hibernation hangover went to sleep three thousand years after that.

But, y’know what? Fine. Let’s say it’s a liturgical language. David’s done the equivalent of walking up to somebody and speaking to them in church Latin. Weird, but not impossible that it could be understood. Or maybe they’re just so damn long-lived and linguistically conservative that it’s more like talking to somebody in an old-timey news broadcaster voice. Still weird! But comprehensible.

But you know what we can’t possibly link back to PIE? Egyptian, Sumerian, Akkadian, Hawaiian, or the Mayan languages, most of the other ancient cultures the movie says the Engineers definitely contacted. Did all those come from the same ur-language? We don’t know. We can’t know, because our reconstruction methods are ineffective past a certain point. But if they did, then their root language had to have existed before the Bering Strait closed off the Americas from Asia, making any common ancestor at least twice as old as PIE. The movie’s implication is that it was PIE. The language of the gods is PIE. PIEngineer.

Apparently everybody who the Engineers talked to just forgot the language of the gods, save for the linguistic descendants of some nomads on the Black Sea Steppe.

And that’s before we get into the worse implications. We can’t tie East Asian languages back to PIE. Austronesian languages. American languages. African languages. Were these people just not contacted by the Engineers? Did they forget? Did they refuse to listen?

None of these are good answers! None! They’re all bad!

In Anil Biltoo’s defense, he’s an academic linguist, and, to my knowledge, not one who’s a conlanger. Ridley Scott specifically wanted to work in the oldest possible human language, and Biltoo delivered on that, based on modern scholarship. He did not make an alien language that evolved into a human language. If Scott had wanted that, David and Jesse Peterson would probably go feral for the project, but they weren’t asked. What would be the most naturalistic thing to do, if you wanted to get across the idea that humans inherited language from the Engineers?

You make a Proto-Human language. People have tried before, and others have argued their attempts are bullshit. This is one of those times that Wikipedia has a “the neutrality of this article is disputed” flag at the top of the page, because there are nerd fights everywhere on this. We don’t even know if a Proto-Human language ever existed–there could have been multiple independent origins of language–but if you’re writing fiction, sure, Proto-Human exists.

Come up with a vocabulary and grammar that could work for Proto-Human, have David speak it to the Engineer, it sounds alien to everybody, nobody gets to be the special children of the gods, and no linguistics dork in the audience will laugh at you.

They will definitely laugh at what happens next, though.

But the post is not done! Bonus linguistic nerdery below, including a sample of my constructed language and its script.

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://moomin.fandom.com/wiki/Stinky

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407327934

https://www.uni-wuerzburg.de/en/news-and-events/news/detail/news/new-indo-european-language-discovered/

PIEngineer gloss

Alright, for the language nerds in the audience, I’ve put together a potential gloss, entirely based off of PIE roots available on Wiktionary and a shaky understanding of PIE verb construction:

/ida hmanəm aɪ kja namṛtuh zdɛ:taha/…/ghʷɪvah-pjorn-ɪttham sas da:tṛ kredah/ this.[singular neuter??] man.NOM [anaphoric demonstrative].1.NOM.MASC here not-die EMPHATIC/towards.3MASC.PRES(?)…life-many-[resultative or inchoative verb suffix? adjective of possession, accusative singular?] [genitive singular reflexive?] give.[middle 3S] believe.[stative(?) 3S] A more literal translation would therefore be “This man here does not (want to) approach death…he believes he (can be) given more life-having to himself.”

I am not good at figuring out suffix affixation for PIE verbs, so I probably missed or misinterpreted a few in there. I’m not sure how to break down /zdɛ:taha/ in particular, and /sas/ is a bit mysterious to me. Biltoo definitely created his own PIE reconstruction for this. Vowels are all shifted (ex *éy -> /aɪ/), there’s more palatal consonants (*ḱi-Ø -> /kja/, *polh₁-r̥-m -> pjorn), and other sound shifts I’m too scatterbrained to categorize right now.

PIEngineer to Tade Taadži translation

Alright. I previously mentioned that I have a conlang. I have yet to mention that it is distantly related to Prometheus, powered by the spiteful creative energy this movie engendered in me.

So it’s only fair I translate this passage into my language, write it in my script, and give a thorough gloss.

Jàà odormàà, hu sàà id aannãgu … midadjã kii jur kaas ʻus mogeso. /jɐː odoɾmɐː hu sɐː id aːnːãgu/ / … /midadjã kiː juɾ̥ kaːs ʔus mogeso/ This.VOC not-native-person.ALL, death.INST not go.ATTR want.PRES. Forever.NOM give this.ALL 2S.VOC ACC 3S.NEAR.ponder.PRES.3P.FAR.ACC

Translation notes:

I am assuming David is speaking formally, clearly, and respectfully in this translation, even if one of the people he’s being respectful about is Weyland. Both Weyland and the Engineer are thus addressed using the Vocative case when first directly mentioned.

Due to the formality of the speech, formal style glyphs are also used: these require significant planning ahead of time, to identify ligatures, aesthetic considerations, and, ideally, to select a total number of words that works out to a multiple of six, as this is culturally the ideal number for a line of text.

Formal ligatures can cross glyph boundaries, and are read every time you encounter part of them in the left-to-right, top-to-bottom reading order. The most common ligatures are between grammatical markers, as in this text, but can extend to whole glyphs or even individual components of them. If one is feeling particularly artistic, aesthetic ligatures may also be joined between thematically similar glyphs.

Gendered pronouns are not used in this context. Politeness dictates that any third person pronouns be replaced with the equivalent of “this” or “that”, unless given express permission to use more informal terms of address. This is especially true when referring to non-native speakers, as they do not have an equivalent social role to the five (yes, five) genders of Taadži culture.

The word for “non-native person” used to indicate Weyland literally means “thing that has a spirit”.

Following my shaky PIEngineer gloss, I tweaked the verb in the first sentence: “to die” would normally be “hur hybà” (lit. “to stand at death”), but this has been changed to “hu iddà”, “go to death”, indicating that Weyland fears even getting near the idea.

The word for “forever”, “midadjã”, is derived from the word for 66, or 46,656. Tade Taadži uses a base six number system, because I felt like taking Jan Misali up on his heximal advocacy.

The normal word order for the language is SVO, but in dependent clauses it becomes OVS, just to make things harder for everyone, including me, who muttered “ah fuck” when I had to check my notes to remember where to put an allative and vocative in there. It’s after the verb, apparently.

The language has verbal person marking in some contexts, and I deliberately bent the second sentence into a more poetic mode so that I could show it off while retaining formal speech, referring to Weyland’s belief as if it’s a person. The glyphs ligate the person marker to the tense marker, Both to save space and for aesthetic purposes.

I had no word for “believe” when I started writing this sentence, so I grabbed a verb already associated with thinking during unmoving meditation to stand in for it, to get across the idea that “this is something he has thought about a lot”.

It’s a shame David’s being polite, because while I didn’t have a word for “believe”, I do have a word for “to believe despite evidence to the contrary”.

Bonus citations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_(computing)

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(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#LANGUAGE TIME LANGUAGE TIME #also an abundance of Engineer screenshots #because I have a type and it is “hairless inhuman and affronted by the rudeness of their alarm clock”#also “doomed by the narrative” because no one in movies save for Guillermo del Toro agrees with me

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rebelliousstories · 8 months

Text

The Secret to a Good Relationship

Relationship: David Loki x Reader

Fandom: Prisoners

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Light Angst

Word Count: 1,564

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: Everyone always says that the secret to a good relationship is communication. Now to see if you can teach an old dog new tricks.

This case was something different. Child cases were always the toughest for law enforcement and Loki took everything to heart. He made it his life’s work to find these children and bring them home safely. He made sure to be there for them when no one else was. however in devoting his entire life and being into these cases, other aspects fall short. Eating, sleeping, even relationships.

Dating was tough in general. Learning how to cohabitate with another person, love them unconditionally, and build a life together; it was a lot of work. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth the effort, but it sure was a lot. Dating anyone in law enforcement was even more difficult. The long and ever changing schedule, the toll of the work on their lives, but they made it work. At the end of the day, they always made it work.

But when you’re going on week two of interrogations, interviews, and patrols, it makes it very difficult to keep up with things that aren’t necessary for survival. David slips out of bed early in the morning, well before the sun has thought about waking up, to get ready for the day. He’s not chronically addicted to coffee like his colleagues but his second cup comes around lunch if he’s just doing paperwork for the day. By the time he’s “done” for the day, i.e. the captain told him to go home, he was itching for his third cup of coffee of the day. But he held off until he went home, deciding then if he wanted another one.

Then it was straight to the shower, then the bed, hoping he’d actually be able to sleep. David was lucky if he got a couple hours during these cases. Endless facts, theories, evidence, and crime scene photos playing on an endless loop in his head. It plagued his waking hours, and infected his dreams, if you could even call them that.

But nothing drained him more than being away from her. His rock. His shelter from the storm in his work and head. His partner. Cases like this required all of his attention, meaning he didn’t have the self preservation skills like eating in his head, much less keeping up with his girl. But he tried, in some way. Holding her when she was already fast asleep when he finally dragged his body to bed. Kissing her forehead and slipping out so as to make sure she gets as much rest as possible. Even fixing her a cup of coffee just how she likes it, and keeping it in her favorite temperature controlled tumbler so it’s perfect when she does wake. Other than that? They hadn’t really spoken the past couple of weeks.

Another day. Another lead. Another interrogation. Another dead end. Loki threw himself into his work the second he arrived, desperately trying to finish this case. He knew he had the guilty man in custody, now it was a matter of proving it. But the evidence was all circumstantial. He’d never make it stick which left him feeling even worse than he had been. It had been a grueling fourteen hour day for him when he finally called it quits and came home. And there she was; waiting for him over the stove that smelled delicious. It was late for either one of them to be up and eating, but there was a routine. David made his way to the shower as he heard the sound of cooking coming from the kitchen. As he emerged, feeling better after the scalding shower, he watched as she plated their dinner.

“What are you doing up this late?” He questioned softly, watching the clock read 11:30. She shrugged and placed his plate down on his side of the table.

“Work ran late. I didn’t get home till ten.” David nodded, and tried to dig into his food. There was silence between them and it was anything but comfortable. He pushed his fork around his plate, but nothing actually made it to his lips. While his lover was quietly looking at her own plate and trying to get food in her stomach, Loki could not. His mind raced too much about the day he was trying desperately to forget.

“How was your day?” She asked in between mouthfuls of food. He quickly tried to place a bite in his to avoid answering, but he could not make his hand comply.

“Same old.” David answered quietly. His hand stilled at the side of his plate. The woman across the table from him noticed, and reached her hand across to rest on his but did not expect the reaction she got. David hand shot up as if he had been burned, and his plate was cast to the side, spilling the contents on the table and a little on the floor.

“I’m fine. Why does no one believe me when I say to listen to me?” He exclaimed, clenching the fork in his hand so tight his knuckled paled. Loki stormed off to their room in a flurry and shut the door loudly behind him, leaving his partner at the table, dumbfounded. She had never once seen him go off like that. He never liked to do it around her, preferring to keep that side of him far away from his lover. While David would never go into detail as to why, she had a sneaking feeling there was an abusive relationship he witnessed at a very young age that scarred him.

She took a deep breath in, and got to work. Waiting to see if any other noises sounded off from the bedroom, she worked to clean up the food from the floor and table. Placing the dishes in the sink with a little water in them, she figured that’s would be tomorrow’s task. Right now, she had a lover and detective to see. Again, listening for anything bing thrown or broken, all she was greeted with was silence. Silently pushing open the bedroom door, the sight broke her heart. David sat on the bed with red knuckles, disheveled hair, and the saddest expression she had seen on the man. A cautious step forward, but no response from the man in front of her. She sat on the bed, far enough away that she was not touching her partner, but close enough that she could if she wanted to. There was no response. No verbal acknowledgment. No visual cue. Nothing to indicate that he was even aware off her presence. That was, until, he began to lean over. Leaning closer and closer towards his lover until his head passed in front of her chest, and landed in her lap.

The angle was uncomfortable for him, but a quick readjustment ensured that he could have stayed there as long as he wanted. Almost as soon as he got settled, David felt his lover’s hands start to card through his hair and massage his scalp. No words were said as the lovers embraced each other.

“I’m sorry I lashed out.” A very quiet voice came from the man. It was uncharacteristically soft and fragile.

“I know.” A soft voice from above said plainly. Her hands did no cease there ministrations as the couple quietly conversed.

“Work has me so stressed lately and I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” No one interrupted the man on his speech. Just soft breaths and gentle hands.

“I wanna keep doing what I’m doing. I don’t wanna stop but its…” he tried to finish the sentence but no more words passed his lips.

“Do you want me to listen or give some advice?” She asked her lover that was in her lap. Two taps on her leg gave her all the answer she needed.

“First of all, the fact that you recognize the need for communication is important. I understand you are going to lash out from time to time, but always come back to me.’

“Secondly, you need a break. Not a day or two, but a true vacation. You haven’t had one ever and you need to relax a bit and get away from work. I know you don’t want to but if you keep going like this, you’ll put yourself in an early grave. And I can’t find anyone else like you, David Loki. So you can’t die on me.” She joked as she finished. She felt her lover crack a small, genuine smile at this and rolled over so he could see her face.

“How did I get so lucky?” He asked, mesmerized by the moonlight on her face.

“Because the universe knew you deserved someone nice.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forhead, which he relished in. Pulling him up, the couple quietly got ready for bed. Tucking themselves in their sides of the bed, Loki welcomed his lover into his arms as they laid there while he faintly registered the clock struck midnight.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered, tucking in a stray strand of hair.

“Yes you do.” She replied, just as softly. Meeting in the middle, the couple shared their final kiss for the day, and allowed themeselves to rest in the arms of their lover. Knowing that tomorrow, if it got too much, they would have someone reliable to come home to.

#rebelliousstories #writing #david loki imagine #david loki #david loki x reader #prisoners imagine #prisoners #prisoners fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal

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jokeroutsubs · 10 months

Text

Nace Jordan on the cover of Slovenian tabloid Lady (22 February 2023)

Nace Jordan from the band Joker Out

"They even impressed grandma Marija"

Nace Jordan is not a new name on the Slovenian music scene, as his bass guitar can be heard in many songs by various music artists, and we also spent some time with him on the entertainment show 'V Petek Zvečer' (On Friday Night). But he, of course, is having the time of his life since he became an indispensable member of the hottest music band in Slovenia at the moment, our Eurovision representatives, Joker Out.

"The rest of the guys tell me that I can just chill and be happy because I joined them now when they're having the best of times," says Nace Jordan, who can't hide his excitement about becoming a member of Joker Out. "I'm very positive by nature and I find something good in everything, and coming into the band is definitely one of the best things that has happened to me." He also feels a little troubled about it, though. "What if someone says that now that Nace has come into the group, it's going downhill. You never know, that's just how I think," he says self-critically, but he has nothing to fear. Bojan Cvjetičanin, the singer of the group, knew who he was calling when he invited him for a coffee. "Having jumped into some bands before as a substitute, I knew it could be very difficult. Especially if there are some disagreements in the band. So I first asked Bojan if they had had a fight. And him confirming to me that they didn't was the decisive factor that made me accept the invitation," says the 28-year-old from Kranj.

Caption 1: Nace Jordan is the newest and the oldest member of the band Joker Out.

From dreams to reality

Nace joined the band with a wealth of musical experience, as the description of his work states that he is a musician, bassist and producer. But he started -like most young people- with the dream of becoming a singer. "I loved to sing when I was little and I always said I would be a singer when I grew up. Then my cousin, Miha Zore, also a musician, inspired me to pick up the guitar for the first time.

At home, they didn't want to buy it for him because they were convinced that his first enthusiasm would soon pass. Then he found his mother's old guitar at his grandmother's house, and he practised so hard that his parents relented. However, he switched to bass guitar quite early on, because he realised that there was a shortage of bass guitarists in this country. He says he is self-taught, but he has had some very good mentors, including Primož Grašič, Matej Hotek and Englishman Scott Devine, who has one of the biggest bassist schools on YouTube today. There are also his musical friends Denis Beganović - Kiki, a renowned multi-instrumentalist from the Primorska region, who played with Magnifico for a long time, and his drummer colleagues David Morgan, who plays with Avtomobili, and Anže Langus, who he says believed in him, supported him and opened many doors for him. "I'm grateful to all of them for passing on their knowledge and encouraging me," he says modestly, adding that he also had a hand in writing down the tunes. "That's why they call me a musical jukebox. I am lucky that I learn a tune quickly and remember it quickly. Today, for example, I still know all 200 songs, including quite a few German shlager songs, that I played on a cruise ship one summer, by heart."

Nace earned his first real money from music when he went to play on a cruise ship at the age of 18. "At a jam session in Kranj, I met musicians who told me about working on the ship. I auditioned and was selected. We then cruised the Baltic with Maja Založnik and others and played," he says, easily recalling those days. It is much harder when he has to remember all the musicians he later worked with as a bassist. "I have fond memories of working with Katarina Mala. I loved playing with Samuel Lucas and his band. I accompanied Nina Pušlar a few times. I consider it an honour to have worked with Elda Viler. And I could go on and on." But he prefers to stop, because he really doesn't want to forget anyone, and he admits that he will miss his musical friends from V petek zvečer (On Friday Night), with whom he had a great time for two years. He is now saying goodbye to them, as he would not be able to bear being on two ends at the same time. At the same time as saying goodbye to the show, he is also saying goodbye to the hat that has been his trademark for many years. "I put that hat on my head for the first time in 2013 and people liked it so much that they kept asking me about it. Then it started annoying me because I realised that people thought I was bald. So I took it off, because I have a fine haircut," he explains with a laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

Caption 2: "The real passion is not the music, it's the people you make it with, play it with. And that's what I've got now," says the satisfied Kranj inhabitant. PHOTO: Primož Lavre

Night jogging

As befits a true Gorenjska inhabitant, Nace also likes to ski, but this winter that is not an option. "Just recently, Bojan and I, who is a keen snowboarder like me, were talking about how good it would be to go skiing. But we really can't afford it this year, because it would be unwise to get injured before Eurovision," he says. He still has some sporting activities to do despite Eurovision. "Apart from skiing, I really like swimming, badminton and running. The latter is still the one I do the most, but I'm probably the funniest runner in the world. I'm the slowest and the latest. I like to run between 11 p.m. and midnight. This stayed with me from the days when I was much heavier, and I felt awkward running in the daytime. But I really enjoy running," he admits. Since he's sculpted his physique, he also enjoys looking in the mirror. Nace finds it easy to talk about the period when he was chubby, but he prefers to explain that he feels much better since he started to pay attention to his diet due to health problems. "When I started to watch what I ate, the weight just melted off. I found a lot of useful things online and I've put together a lunch menu of seven dishes that I really like." Nace mostly cooks for himself, but he is also very grateful to his mother Darja for helping him now that he is busy. Even though they have not always been enthusiastic about his musical pursuits, his family has always been there for him. "I listened to them for a long time, wondering 'When will our Nace find a job?', but now I know they are happy for me. They see that I enjoy what I do, that it's such a big part of me that I can't do without it. And just the other day at lunch, my grandmother Marija said: 'Well, now we're going to have a celebrity in the family too?'" he tells, laughing.

Caption 3: He enjoys being on stage because he is always 100% ready to perform.

Article by: Simona Dakič Nemanič

Scans and translation by: @kurooscoffee

#joker out #nace jordan

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fanficshiddles · 6 months

Text

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 5

At lunch time on Thursday, all the teachers were in the teachers’ lounge having lunch together. The vampires were pretty accustomed to Claire’s scent now, though they still wouldn’t refuse a bite if she offered her neck up…

Loki still really struggled, though the constant application of vaseline did help, thankfully.

He felt incredibly worried about Friday night, Claire still planned to go to the river again to try and get through the fence. Loki tried talking her out of it, though she was adamant to get to the bottom of it. He could only hope that whatever his dad had planned would work, and he really hoped that Chris wouldn’t be sniffing around her again.

However, it turned out that Loki had other things to worry about much sooner…

‘Hey, why don’t we go for a few drinks tonight after work? To officially welcome Claire.’ Matt suggested, piquing multiple of the teacher’s interest and Claire’s face lit up.

Loki at first, was going to politely decline. While he wanted to spend more time with her, at the same time he didn’t because of how difficult it was to be around her, like torture that he couldn’t even touch her. Though his mind swiftly changed when Chris walked into the room.

‘Did I hear correctly, drinks after work tonight?’ Chris asked with a smile as he glanced around the room, his eyes lingered longer on Claire.

The rest were surprised that he even showed an interest in going, as he always declined previously whenever asked to join such a thing.

‘Yes, we were planning tonight after work. So, who’s in?’ Jeremy asked.

Loki prayed to high heavens that Claire would have some sort of prior engagement, though he could tell by the delighted look on her face that that wasn’t the case, unfortunately.

‘Me, definitely!’ She said excitedly.

Having moved from across the country, she’d left behind not only her family but her friends too. She had zero social life in Demsdale yet, which she didn’t like.

Everyone else nodded in agreement, aside from Severus. ‘Having to socialise with you all during work hours is tedious enough, I’m not going to do so willingly in my own time.’ He drawled.

‘Gee thanks, no need to sugarcoat it.’ David huffed and rolled his eyes at him.

‘Well, this will be a delightful evening, I’m sure.’ Chris began, looking at Claire then he looked at Loki with a slight smirk. ‘Nothing like a few alcoholic drinks to lower any inhibitions of colleagues, to get to know them on a more intimate level.’

Loki glared back at him. ‘Indeed.’ He said through gritted teeth and put on a fake smile.

The lounge buzzed with excited chatter after the decision had been made, even Chris hung around with a constant little smirk plastered on his face. Loki wanted nothing more than to slap said smirk right off him.

The afternoon classes flew in, and before they knew it, Claire and Loki were heading to meet with the other teachers at the front, now all the students had left the building.

‘Are you ok? You’ve been a bit quiet.’ Claire asked Loki as they made their way down the corridor.

Loki smiled, he liked how attentive she was. It may only be day four, but she could already tell when something bothered him.

‘I’m fine, thanks Claire. Just not overly fond of socializing.’ He chuckled.

‘Ah, why did you agree then? You could have declined like Severus did, just maybe in a nicer manner.’

‘True, but this little get together is for you, so I’ll put up with the others for a few drinks.’ He winked at her.

Claire’s stomach did somersaults, she felt a fuzzy feeling inside of her but tried to just ignore it.

‘What are you two still doing here?’ Loki’s bark made Claire jump as she hadn’t been paying attention.

Two students were lurking near the bathrooms.

‘Sorry, Sir. Just leaving now.’ One of them said and they both began walking away.

‘Wait.’ Loki called, making them both stop and they turned back around guiltily.

‘Hand it over.’ Loki said, his hand outstretched towards them. Claire raised an eyebrow as she watched on in confusion.

‘Wh… what?’ One of them stammered.

‘You know exactly what.’ Loki narrowed his eyes at him.

The student ashamedly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of white powder.

‘This will have to be reported, I suggest you both tell your parents so they don’t get a nasty surprise when the police turn up on your doorsteps tonight. Not only is having drugs in your possession ridiculously stupid, but taking it into school too? Have you been dealing to other students?’

‘No! No! It was just between us two. I’m sorry, Sir. Please don’t tell the police.’ The student begged and looked like he was going to cry.

‘I’m sorry boys, but it’s my duty to report this.’ Loki said with a tiny bit of regret in his voice.

The two students sulked off out of the building, Loki shook his head with a sigh as he went into the bathroom, Claire followed him in, even though it was the boy’s bathroom.

‘What are you doing?’ Claire asked.

Loki went into one of the cubicles and tipped the bag out into the toilet, flushing away the evidence.

‘They’re intelligent kids, never been in trouble before. I suspect they’ve mixed in with the wrong crowd, peer pressure, I’m hoping this will be enough to scare them, and if they tell their parents they will get enough of a punishment from them, I’m sure. I’ll have another word with them tomorrow. I believe in second chances, plus it’s only a little amount, so hopefully they will learn from this.’

‘How did you know they had it?’ Claire asked as they headed back out into the corridor.

‘I could smell it.’ Loki said without thinking, but he could feel Claire’s eyes boring into the side of his face. ‘I uh, have a pretty good sense of smell. Besides, they were obviously up to something and I saw a small bulge in his pocket.’

‘Wow, I thought I was pretty good at spotting things, but that’s something else entirely. It’s nice that you’re giving them another chance, since they’re not normally troublemakers.’

‘Of course. Many of the students wouldn’t be here if we came down super hard on them for every little stupid mistake, they’re at the age of experimenting with many different things and getting in with wrong crowds. Sometimes a little scare is all they need, but sometimes it takes actually calling the police, unfortunately.’ Loki smiled softly.

Claire and Loki joined Michael, Jeremy, Hannibal and Matt at the entrance. It wasn’t long before David and Jessica came along. Loki wanted to head off straight away before Chris appeared, but no such luck, as Chris arrived promptly.

‘Everybody’s here, let’s go!’ Michael said as he rubbed his hands together.

Everyone headed out, Chris stepped in next to Claire, pushing Loki behind them as he draped his arm around her shoulder. ‘I hope you’re enjoying your first week here and Loki hasn’t been too demanding?’ Chris asked.

‘Not at all, I’m enjoying working with him. My first week has been really good, it’s a great school.’ Claire replied.

‘That’s good to hear. At least tonight I’ll get to know you more, can’t have Loki hogging you all for himself after all.’ Chris spoke quietly with an alluring tone.

Claire had goosebumps rising on her skin as she could feel his warm breath against her ear, he spoke in such a sensuous manner.

Jessica noticed Loki staring daggers into the back of Chris’ head, she’d never seen veins close to popping on someone’s neck so much before, close to blowing his lid.

‘Yes, Loki has been hogging you. Now we can finally have some girly chat, too.’ Jessica said brightly as she grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her forward.

While Loki was relieved that Chris no longer had Claire in his clutches, he still wasn’t overly pleased about her being touched by another vampire, but he knew she was safe enough now so managed to calm himself down a little.

When they arrived at the bar, they were lucky to get a large enough booth table for them all. It was a cosy place, with low but warm lighting and plenty of music memorabilia lined the walls, music played in the background and Claire spotted a jukebox in the corner, she mentally took note for later. Some people were playing darts and pool, it had a nice chilled out atmosphere even with it being relatively busy, especially for a Thursday night.

‘This is our usual haunt, it’s a great wee place.’ David said to Claire as everyone took off their coats.

‘I love it. This is my kind of place.’ Claire grinned as she soaked up the atmosphere.

She scooted into the booth next to Matt, Chris attempted to go in next to her but Loki swiftly sat down first and moved in closer to Claire. Chris just smirked as he sat down opposite instead. Loki began to wonder which was worse, as now he sat in her direct eyeline.

The others all squeezed in too, Hannibal took everyone’s drink orders and went up to the bar to get the first round.

‘Just so you know, you’re not paying a penny tonight. This is our treat for you.’ Michael said to Claire, the others nodded in agreement.

‘No, I can’t expect that of you all.’ Claire argued.

‘No arguing, Claire. It’s our treat to welcome you in, and it’s part of our wicked plan to get you drunk and to feed you so that you like us so much you never want to leave.’ Jeremy teased.

Hannibal ended up getting some food for the table to snack on while they drank. Even though the conversation flowed casually, Claire noticed some tension between Loki and Chris. While Chris seemed to enjoy poking little teasing comments at Loki, Loki just seemed pissed off whenever Chris opened his mouth. She decided to wait for the right moment to ask someone if there was beef between the two.

She didn’t need to wait long, after bragging a little about her pool skills, David challenged her to a game. They took their drinks over to the pool table while the others remained at the table, apart from Matt who went to watch and make sure they played fair.

Chris ended up going to play darts with Hannibal, so that gave Loki a little breathing room to enjoy his drink and converse with the others that were left at the table with him.

‘So, what’s the deal between Loki and Chris? Could cut the tension with a knife.’ Claire asked David and Matt halfway through their game, with Claire in the lead.

David took his shot, but missed getting a ball in the pocket. ‘Damn it!’ He grabbed the chalk and rubbed it on the end of his cue. ‘Loki and Chris… well, they have quite a bit of history. It’s not our place to tell, really.’

‘Let’s just say, they have a very different outlook on certain… subjects.’ Matt uttered.

Claire looked round at Loki and could see how much more relaxed he was with Chris being away from the table.

‘Are you taking your shot or not?’ David asked cheekily as he poked Claire's side with his cue, making her jump.

‘Yeah, yeah, hold your horses. I’m just letting it sink in for you how much you suck at this game.’ She grinned and took aim.

‘Ooooh, you’re getting totally roasted, mate.’ Matt laughed.

David narrowed his eyes at Matt.

Claire took her shot and got one of her balls into the pocket. David watched on apprehensively as she only had two more balls to go before going for the black ball, while he still had four to pocket first.

‘And thrashed!’ Matt sniggered as Claire went on to pocket another ball, then to David’s relief she missed the third one so he could at least get a chance to try and catch up.

‘I can not let a girl beat me at pool.’ David muttered as he took his time getting his aim right.

Matt and Claire looked at one another with a grin, Claire tried her best to hold back laughter. David got his ball into a pocket, then missed the next.

Just as Claire cockily took position, bent over the green velvet table and focused on taking aim, Chris stalked over to them. ‘Well, what a delightful position you’re in, darling. Best be careful, beautiful woman such as yourself in such a compromising manner while surrounded by males could be risky...’ He purred, just as she took her shot.

She missed completely, the ball went flying against the side of the table and scooted right past the ball she had been aiming for.

‘Shit!’ She hissed and stood up straight, she looked round at Chris and glared at him. ‘You cost me my shot.’ She whined, but blushed a little from the way he looked at her with his piercing gaze. Even though he was clearly flirting and teasing around, there was just something extremely intimidating about him, a hidden danger that she couldn’t put her finger on that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

‘She doesn’t need to be careful, perfectly safe here with us.’ Loki growled as he approached. He’d caught Chris heading over, so wanted to make sure he wasn’t over stepping the line, and he’d heard everything.

Claire smiled brightly at Loki, while Loki could seem intimidating too when he wanted to, there was something really warming about him. She felt unusually safe and content around him. Though she did feel safe around them all, really, but Loki more so. She just put that down to the fact that she had spent the most time with him, after all.

‘Two shots to me!’ David said gleefully as he took his shots.

Chris stayed rooted to the spot and folded his arms over his chest as he smirked at Loki. Loki scowled at him and tried to make sure he couldn’t get too close to Claire, especially when she took her shots.

Even with the previous distraction, Claire still managed to beat David at the game. He could often be a bit of a sore loser, but he shook her hand in good spirit. ‘Good game, good game.’

‘Putting on a brave face. Well done.’ Loki teased and patted his shoulder.

They all went back to the table and had a few more drinks before calling it a night, with it being a school night after all, no one wanted to be teaching with a sore head in the morning.

Jessica, Hannibal and Claire ended up sharing a taxi since they lived in the same direction.

‘I’ll make sure she gets in safe, I promise.’ Jessica whispered to Loki, seeing the worry on his face.

‘Thank you.’ Loki nodded.

Everyone else split in their own directions home too. However, Chris wasn’t finished with his night out.

He went around the back of the bar to find two drunken girls stumbling around the alley, smoking cigarettes. As he stalked up to them with large strides, he put on a charming smile when he reached them.

‘Good evening, ladies.’ He purred.

‘Why hellooo handsome.’ One of them slurred as she looked him up and down. ‘What can we do for you?’ She said suggestively.

Chris’ fangs slowly emerged and he grinned widely, showing his sharp pearly whites off to them. ‘You can scream and put up a fight for me, I do love it when my meal struggles.’ He growled before lunging at them.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #michael fassbender #david tennant #loki fic #vampire Loki #the redbridge hunts #severus snape #jessica chastain #chris motionless #jeremy renner #matt murdock #hannibal

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josephquinnn · 1 year

Text

Alias

part one - part two

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were supposed to guide David Harbour during the launch of the Stranger Things game that the company you work for created, however, he cancels at the last minute. His replacement? Joseph Quinn.

CW / disclaimer: rpf (don't read if it's not your jam), fem!reader, fluff

Author’s note: This is the kick-off fic for this page, so please be kind. I have several ideas in mind that I'm currently working on, so stay tuned for more!

“Ladies and gentlemen, Corendon Airlines welcomes you to Amsterdam. The local time is 9 P.M. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate.”

While this hadn’t been your first time visiting Amsterdam, the reason why was very different this time. Or perhaps not that different, were it not that you had a very personal reason why it was so different for you. The company you worked for, GED International, had developed an immersive multiplayer game to kick off the fifth and final season of Stranger Things. Aside from your love from the show, you also had a huge admiration for the cast. And while being a part of the release of Stranger Things: Invading The Upside Down was really cool in itself, the fact that you were pointed to be the guide of the one and only David Harbour had you jittery for weeks. It made sense that an actor would fly over to promote it, but you hadn’t expected it regardless. It just wasn’t how your luck usually worked. Not this time though. This time, you were the one who was going to show Jim Hopper around Amsterdam, as that was where the event would take place all around the city. You were well acquainted enough with the city, having spent several years working there on and off. It always felt like a weird coming home, although this time you would reside in a hotel for a couple days. One day for the event, two leisure days.

After waiting for a good twenty minutes, you were finally able to get up from your seat and out of the plane, on your way to get your luggage. Your colleagues already arrived earlier to set up several things, but since your task was literally getting David from A to B and entertaining him a little during, you didn’t have to be earlier than the evening beforehand. The wait for your luggage to show up was as stressful as ever, but thankfully the rollerband hadn’t disappointed you once and quietly (not really) provided you with your suitcase after some time. On your way to the hotel you decided to grab a quick bite from the popular fries shack that was quite literally on your way towards The Dam, along with what the Dutch call a “frikandel”, which was essentially a lengthy meat stick. It was a craving you had whenever you visited the Netherlands, which your colleagues thought was the funniest thing after you described it to them for the first time. The Dutch had more things you had a weak spot for though, such as “stroopwafels” and their delicious tiny pancakes that they called “poffertjes”. You’d probably indulge and get it the next day, if you had the time. Your hotel wasn’t far removed from The Dam, which was still bustling in the late summer evening, with their street artists keeping up the crowd. You had to unpack, iron your clothes and get ready for bed though, so there was no time to stick around.

You nearly bumped into a guy on your way into your hotel, who was so focused on holding his head down that he hadn’t noticed you and apologized with a quick and very British “sorry”, though not even glancing in your direction. You had been too busy saving your suitcase from falling down the stairs to whip your head around in time. The guy had already gone and with him, the familiar voice that left you wondering whether your mind was just playing tricks on you.

The event had just gone to your head. Of course you had hoped it would have been him to promote the game. His character’s return had already been announced in a subtle teaser that had the world in their grasp at the moment, so soon before the release of the last season. Besides, with him residing in London it almost felt like it made the most sense. You shook your head, it hadn’t been him. It was just a random Brit with a similar voice. They were out there. You realized you had been standing in the middle of the lobby where the receptionist had been looking at you with her eyebrow raised for a moment now. Time to check in.

Just as you came out of the shower, you received a call. It hadn’t been the first time they had tried to call you according to your phone and you were only just in time to pick up this time around.

“Deniz, hi, sorry I was just in the shower,” you explained quickly.

“All good. Listen, change of plans.”

“Change of plans?”

Now?! The evening before the event? You groaned inwardly, already dreading whatever changes he was about to inform you with. You sat down on your bed, dressed in the hotel’s bathrobe and waited.

“Yeah, so… David Harbour canceled. I know how excited you were about that, I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. You felt your heart sink. There it was, reality coming right back to kick you in the face as usual. Of fucking course.

“I see, so… what’s going to happen now?” Were you just going to have a little vacation then? Would they let you join the event differently? Maybe it would mean you could sleep in. That would be nice.

“Well, miracles happened and another actor agreed to come. We just got the memo way later. David canceled earlier this week apparently so they’ve been making calls and such.”

“Who is it?” It was time for Deniz to drop the information you actually gave a damn about. Your mind immediately went back to the guy who had bumped into you. It couldn’t be…

“Joseph Quinn? I googled him quickly while I called you but I have no clue. Is he one of the smaller actors?” You had to bite your tongue not to lecture him on how Joseph Quinn was anything but. It didn’t matter. Deniz didn’t give a damn about celebrities, and since Joseph looked quite different from his character Eddie, you weren’t surprised he had no idea who he was based off of that.

“No. He plays Eddie Munson.”

“Hold up. The guy who died but then didn’t?”

“That’s the one.”

“That’s actually pretty cool. Looks nothing like him though. Insane.”

Tell me about it, you thought. You had spent enough hours ogling both his character and his regular appearance, still unable to grasp at how they were the same person.

“Okay so, I’ve emailed you the details of his PA Leah, she’s been briefed on when and where he’s expected. You’ll meet after breakfast in the lobby at ten sharp, same as the original plan. Just make sure you’re a little early, yeah?”

“Will do.” You continued your convo casually but eventually you cut it off because you really needed your sleep. And before you could do that, you needed at least an hour to silently scream into your pillow because you were going to meet him. Chances were that the hand that had quickly searched for balance on your arm earlier had been his. You felt a little lightheaded. This was a nightmare cocooned in a dream. Undoubtedly you were going to make a fool of yourself and he would hate your guts. Or he’d laugh at you. You didn’t know what was worse. All you knew was that while the change of plans theoretically would have been a dream come true, a nightmare had never felt more realistic.

The next morning you were fidgeting with the hem of your blouse as you waited in the lobby, half an hour too early. You had barely managed to eat breakfast due to your nerves but had forced a few things in your system because a grumbling stomach would be worse. Maybe you should have just eaten a bit more slowly so that you didn’t have to wait ridiculously long. It was killing you, perking your head up at every movement and often receiving an odd glance from the stranger who you’d been so eager to look at. Not with Joseph though. His voice alerted you long before the man even came into view. Laughter had escaped his lips and it sounded all too familiar. Granted, you had a bit of a crush on the man you had only seen through a screen so far. You were relieved he sounded chipper, as you had noticed that he hadn’t been so delighted at some other events he had attended. Those were all just assumptions, but you liked to think that your people skills gave you enough knowledge to assess someone’s body language at least a little. You turned your body in his direction at the right timing, where you wouldn’t have to stare for too long but had enough time to grab his attention. It looked like his assistant had received a photo from you, because recognition flashed her face and she walked up to you before Joseph had even noticed you. With a quick B-line, he followed her.

“Hi, you must be Y/N?”

“That’s me, nice to meet you,” you said politely as you shook her hand.

“Leah, you as well.”

Then, it was Joseph’s turn. Your smile faltered only for a second when he shook your hand and it was a good thing you already knew the man’s name, because his eyes were so distracting that you could only see his lips move and not hear a thing he said.

“Nice to meet you,” you managed to say to him as well and he let go of your hand with a subtle squeeze to finish off the greeting.

“The car should be up front soon,” you said as you checked your phone for the time. The nerves, which you would have had just the same if it had been David, we’re eating you alive from the inside as a silence pursued. All you had been briefed to do was getting them from location to location and you had no idea how much they had been told about the game already. To your relief the silence was cut short when you received a message that your ride was there. After announcing that, you went ahead and led Joseph and his PA to the car waiting outside.

“Are you from here?” Joseph’s voice perched your ears and you turned your head to look into his curious brown eyes.

“I’m not actually. I’m from Y/B/P.” You had to bite your tongue to automatically ask the same question in return because you knew.

“Oh! That’s cool. I’ve been there once, on vacation,” he told you. “Would love to go back sometime.”

I’ll gladly take you back home with me, you thought, but instead you nodded.

“What about Amsterdam? You’ve been here often?” You asked to keep the conversation going. He told you about the two times he visited Amsterdam, how he hadn’t managed to visit any museums because his mates had wanted to get high and go out most of the time. Fun times, still, but he wanted to see if he could squeeze in a museum or two before he left again. Once you arrived at The Dam, a noticeable crowd had already gathered and their heads all turned towards the car. Oh boy.

“Alright, let’s go this way,” you decided and Joseph shifted in the seat to get out on your end, his assistant following suit. Phones were shoved into your faces and Joseph took the time to take a few photos and sign some things before he followed you towards the stage. His assistant stood on the sidelines, leaving Joseph alone with you and the host who would present the game.

“I had no idea what to expect but this is pretty big,” Joseph mumbled, gesturing at the game setup. There was a platform on which you could walk continuously without moving, a round treadmill so to say. It had a railing around the front and VR glasses hung over it.

“It is. They found it important that walking around felt natural, hence the big platform. It’s pretty cool.”

“Have you played it yet?”

“No, I’ve only seen some test runs.”

“The concept sounded pretty cool, like working together and all that. I believe it’s also available on other stuff right? PC and everything?”

You nodded and went into detail about how the PC version would be different, in terms of VR and without VR, but also the general difference in running around physically versus only digitally. Joseph seemed very intrigued at everything you had to say while they set him up with a microphone on his shirt. So much, even, that he nearly missed his announcement for coming up the stage.

“My bad. Hi everyone.”

You watched the conversation from the side between Joseph and the host, who explained the game again in detail and held a little presentation about it. Then, it was time for Joseph to actually join the game. Throughout Amsterdam there were several setups like this one, and a few lucky fans had been selected to take part in the immersive game together with Joseph. Each wearing a headset and being in a party together, all with a different task ahead. The people on the Dam could watch Joseph’s gameplay on a big screen behind him. Joseph seemed to enjoy it a lot, completely into the game as he stepped and jumped over things, running over to clues and communicating with his party. It was his task to gather camouflage to bring over to the others, who each had their own task to explore as well. It all went down on a timer and it was important that everyone finished their task in time. Of course, there were enemies as well which would progress into severity the closer everyone game to the middle, also known as their meeting point.

You loved watching Joseph do his thing, with his tongue darting out and making wild gestures at creatures that tried to attack him. He shouted, did his best not to swear and often went into a giggle fit when he did something silly. It was the most endearing thing to watch and while you thought David Harbour would have been a very funny candidate to watch as well, nothing could beat Joseph being Joseph.

“It says I can pick up an ally? I want an ally!” Joseph suddenly exclaimed, looking around as he perked his head up. “Can I?” He then asked a bit unsurely. His VR headset was soundproof, meaning he wouldn’t even be able to hear the answer unless he took his headset off. You watched the guy monitoring the screen discuss something with one of the developers and then nodded over to you. What? When the developer approached you, holding another VR headset, you felt dread seeping into your shoes. Oh no. You enjoyed playing the occasional game but you weren’t any good, and you definitely didn’t have a wide experience with VR games. This was doomed to make you look like a fool. Great.

“We’ll set you up if you want to join as his ally?”

You weren’t going to say no, of course.

“Sure. Just tell me what to do.”

The developer briefly explained that you would join the game as an extra help during fights, making your health double up. You were handed a stick that represented a bat in the game and were put on a similar platform like Joseph was. After connecting the two together, you would be launched into the same spot he was, and you would be able to play once you entered a nickname.

IN GAME: Your ally Y/N has arrived, Joseph

“Hello? Y/N?” “Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh! Hi! I didn’t expect them to insert an actual person, I thought they meant like an NPC or something. This is even better!” Immediately, he got back to business, as he took the game quite seriously. “So. We have to find our way through this forest, but there are demobats trying to kill us. And apparently wild dogs.”

Joseph turned to you in the game, and it felt surreal to have a pretty decent looking Eddie avatar look at you and communicate with you in a British accent. You had no idea what your character looked like.

“Alright, we’ve got to get… Oh! You’re Robin, that’s cool. We need to go this way, it seems.”

You discussed your options and decided to look around first for any clues if you were going in the right direction. When a demobat attack forced you to run into the forest, you knew you had been right. It was pretty fun to use your bat to slam the demons away, but the VR aspect of it all was harder than you expected. It was a good thing you and Joseph were about two meters apart from each other in real life, or you would have played whack-a-mole with each other’s heads. At one point you had to run, which meant physically running in real life too. As if you wanted to be sweaty! Luckily, you soon met up with the other players, who had all achieved their tasks and slayed some enemies like you had. Now it was time for the final battle: Defeating Vecna. While you had expected things to be pretty hectic with at least four other voices outside of you and Joseph, it wasn’t all that bad. If anything, it made it feel more realistic to have several people shout their battle cries. It required working together and using each other’s strengths, timing them perfectly after one another. The person with Nancy’s character would shoot at him, while you threw bottles lit with fire, and Joseph had to use his catapult to distract Vecna and weaken his sight. Eventually, you managed to defeat Vecna without having to replay the game or anyone dying. You always liked how the developers made Eddie an available character as well, regardless when they knew if he was going to return or not.

Finally, you took off your headset and quickly fixed your hair, stepped away from the platform and found that Joseph joined you immediately.

“That was fun,” he grinned, clearly wanting to share his experience with someone. His hair was a bit of a mess now, his curls no longer as tamed as before. After he noticed you looking he quickly ran a hand through his hair and you wondered if you had made him self conscious. For whatever reason his PA was nowhere to be found. Joseph was called over to give a quick review on the game and after that it was time to acknowledge the fans who had long since gathered at the barricades for some selfies and photographs. You could tell that he was in a good mood by the way he wore a relaxed smile on his face as he interacted with the fans. All you could hope was that it would stay the same after visiting the other locations. You never really understood why they wanted him to visit all locations, instead of just having everyone come up to one, but apparently they didn’t want to overcrowd any spot and considering people had to buy tickets to even get to stand near the barricades, it started to dawn on you. Of course these money hungry bastards took the opportunity and ran away with it in ten folds.

Joseph seemed to handle it all perfectly well until you were back in the car and he slumped in his seat. As it turned out, his PA had suddenly gotten sick and had gone back to the hotel. It was just you and him now, for the rest of the day.

“That was intense,” Joseph said softly, unsure whether he should even be sharing his thoughts with you. All you could do was nod.

“It was. I’m surprised you have to visit so many spots if I’m honest,” you admitted and Joseph nodded in agreement.

“I hadn’t expected that either. I just figured it would be one location and go, until we received the schedule yesterday.”

“That gave you little time to prepare then… I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh it’s alright. Can’t complain, it’s a great opportunity.”

You smiled softly.

“It’s fine to complain a little, even if it’s a great opportunity,” you assured him. That granted a smile out of him as well. You could imagine it was hard to cut yourself some slack when you had been so lucky, yet incredibly overwhelmed by it all. And he wasn’t even allowed to call it luck according to people because it was talent, but to him it sure had felt like luck.

When the driver stopped the car, you were surprised to see you weren’t at the next location yet.

“Roadblocks all around. You’ll have to walk from here,” he said apologetically. The thought alone filled you with dread. Joseph had been stalked in every place he had been and Amsterdam was about to become the next. They knew what he looked like down to the shoes he was wearing at the moment, so the watchful eye would definitely notice.

“Alright, not a problem at all,” Joseph told the driver before turning to you. “Is it far?”

“Ten minutes max, I think,” you replied, getting your phone out to find a route. Once you got it, you both left the car. The driver assured you he would be in the same spot in time for the next one, but you exchanged numbers just in case.

The first couple of minutes went fine. No one batted an eye. Not until one teenager shouted his name.

“Oh fuck,” you mumbled softly, watching as the many heads turned around frantically in search of the man next to you.

“It’ll be fine,” he assured you, as if you were the one who needed assurance. You were very ready to elbow these people in the head if they were behaving like idiots. It would cost you your job if you caused a scandal, though.

“Where do we have to go?” Joseph asked you, sounding a little hurried. You showed him the route on your phone and watched how he scanned the area quickly.

“Alright. Come.” Before you realized what was going on, he had grabbed your hand and guided you through the masses who were dawning in on you, taking photos and trying to get their picture taken with him as well. He greeted them kindly, effortlessly. Apologized for moving on and explaining you had to get to your destination quickly. You wondered if anyone else noticed how draining this seemed to be for him. His frown deepening, his lips disappearing into a thin line. His hand squeezed yours tighter every now and then, although he often relaxed it shortly after and grazed the top of your hand with his thumb, as if to apologize.

When you finally made it to the next stage, you let out a breath of relief. This unorganized shit show was a drag. Joseph let go of your hand and listened to the host of that location, who guided him to the fans where he could do his service of taking photos and interacting with them shortly. Then, he met with a handful of people who had won a meet & greet with him for a good five minutes and after that it was time to move to the next. Two down, four to go. It wasn’t until the transition from the fourth to the fifth that you and Joseph decided to skip the car and just walk all the way. You had been hopeful the other times that the car would actually be able to drop you off at a good spot, but it had become clear that Amsterdam wasn’t great to go through by car, especially not on a day like this. When you asked him about security, it turned out that he had turned them down as he hadn’t expected the getting from one location to the other would have gone so hectic.

“God that smells delicious,” Joseph exclaimed softly as you were walking through crowds, trying to blend in as well as you could. You had smelled it too, or at least you thought you did. If you were honest, you were pretty hungry after that lousy breakfast, considering it was way past lunch time already.

“The bakery, right?” You ask as you point into the direction of a bakery on the other side of the street.

“Yes. Mind if we make a quick stop? I’ve really got to eat something.”

“Not at all. Some more delay isn’t going to matter at this point,” you pointed out. You made your way towards the bakery that luckily wasn’t too crowded, and got yourselves a pastry , two in Joe’s case. He had been eyeing the croissants but decided against it because of the crumbs. Not that these pastries were any better. They were delicious though, you concluded, and Joseph seemed to agree judging by the sounds he made.

“Right, I needed that,” he said as he cleaned off his fingers with a napkin. Once you got closer to the last stage, he turned to you.

“Am I good?” He asked, gesturing at his face so you could tell him if he missed a crumb. He had, so you pointed it out with words, until he didn’t catch it at the third try and you lifted your finger to his face instead and gently took it off.

“You also have some…” he started, brushing his thumb over the corner of your mouth, “right there. All good now.” His gaze lingered longer than it should have and you blamed your burning cheeks for it. He probably noticed your shift in attitude right away. Despite that, he seemed unbothered and you entered the last stage, where Joseph did his thing again and you watched him do it all effortlessly.

It was already way past dinner time when you finally made your way back to the hotel. That was it then, you thought. You had had fun, and it had been great to get to know him briefly, but you would have loved more. Somehow it made you feel greedy, though you blamed the man himself for being the exact way you had imagined him to be. All sweet and nice and gentlemanly. So annoying.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?”

The silence that hung in the air got way too much time to spread when you looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. God, please act cool for once, you thought to yourself. To top it off, he smiled softly at you and even seemed a little nervous. Why in the world would he be nervous?

“I— Yes! That sounds lovely, where would you like to go? Just here at the hotel, or…”

“Oh no. I’d prefer to get into the city if that’s okay. I heard you can get dinner on a boat, no idea if you have to book a spot for that though. We could check? I just want to change into something else once we’re back at the hotel, freshen up a little. Is that alright with you?” His eyes darted away as he spoke and his hand softly scratched behind his ear in a repeat motion until he finished his sentence. Absolutely endearing. Your conversation briefly paused as you left the car and headed back inside your hotel.

“Dinner on a boat sounds…” Romantic as hell. “Great! And if it’s not available I’m sure we can find a nice spot somewhere. At the canals maybe?” You offered, wanting to throw in your two cents as well instead of just completely going along with what he said.

“I’ll give them a call. The canals would be nice as well!” He agreed, and shifted his weight from one foot to another as he looked at you. “Meet down here in an hour?”

You agreed and both went opposite ways towards your rooms. His was in a much more luxurious area of the hotel, which made sense. Once in your hotel room you quickly turned your suitcase upside down in search of something appropriate to wear. Would a dress be too much? The rest all seemed too casual and you had no idea how fancy that boat restaurant was. The dress would have to do. It was a simple, black, a-line dress but it looked very elegant on your figure. You freshened up in the bathroom and reapplied your makeup, hoping it all looked fine.

Miraculously you had some time to kill, which basically meant you sat alone with your thoughts. Those that hadn’t stopped running the same sentence over and over after he had said it. Would you like to join me for dinner? You were genuinely confused why he had asked you. Maybe he just didn’t want to eat alone because it would attract extra attention to himself. Yeah. That must be it. And you guessed you were deemed nice enough to have a chat with. Which was great, but everything else was just confusing and slightly stressful. When you finally allowed yourself to go down ten minutes early, you found that Joseph was already waiting there. Dressed in black pants and a dark blue blouse, he looked incredibly handsome. He immediately noticed you as you exited the elevator, his neutral expression lighting up into a smile.

“Y/N, thank god, you made it. I managed to get a reservation in twenty minutes, so I was secretly hoping you’d be early too. They happened to have a cancellation. Our uber is ready too.”

“Oh that’s great! I’m really curious about this restaurant. Is it just docked in one of the canals or does it actually fare?” You asked curiously, while trying to calm yourself down inwardly that you were going to sit in front of this handsome man for a whole meal. Oh god. What if you made a total fool of yourself?

They have a route that goes partially through the canals, so we’ll be able to do a slight bit of sightseeing if we’re lucky. It might be too dark outside already.”

He held the door open for you to slide inside the uber and then joined from the other side. Again. What a gentleman.

“Have you decided on what you might want to visit tomorrow?” You wanted to know. While you hadn’t made specific plans just yet, you wanted to check out some things as well before you had to go back. Your silly brain allowed yourself to hope that maybe you could do some sightseeing together. Not that you were going to ask him that, oh no. That was way too embarrassing. What if he said no?

“I have some time to squeeze in one or two things. Later tomorrow I have an interview through zoom with someone in New York though, and we leave again early the next day. So I have a bit of time but nothing too grand. Any recommendations?”

“I was thinking of visiting Anne Frank’s house. I’ve heard many stories about that. And Rijksmuseum, maybe. Those are things I’d want to do, but I can’t exactly recommend them because I’ve never been.”

“Those were on my list as well as the Vincent van Gogh museum. Haven’t decided yet.”

“I heard there was a special exhibition there, temporarily.”

“Oh, really? Can’t miss out on that now, can I? It’s not like I’m a very artsy person, I don’t necessarily feel things when I look at paintings, but I do appreciate the craft. And Van Gogh does have a nice style. I’ve got a small print of one of his works in my hallway. Sorry,” he winced and chuckled awkwardly.

“For what?” You genuinely wanted to know. He shrugged and avoided your gaze, disguised by looking out the car window for scenery.

“For going on a ramble.”

“Don’t be silly! I’m the same with art. Especially abstract pieces. I try to find a meaning in them but sometimes… a blob is just a blob.” You shrugged.

“Yes!” Joseph seemed happy that someone agreed. You briefly wondered if he was just always happy when he met someone like minded or if he simply had a lot of artsy friends. He seemed to relax after you didn’t make a fuss about him being talkative and suddenly mentioned how disappointed he was in the Mona Lisa.

“She’s just so small. I never expected a huge painting, but I also didn’t expect people to gather in rows and rows to catch a glimpse of this tiny painted woman,” he mumbled. When you arrived at the dock where the boat would set sail from, you both got out and Joseph gallantly held out his arm for you to take.

“I’ve noticed the streets can be pretty uneven here,” he used to reason as to why he provided his arm. You nodded, looking down at your low boots. There was a reason you didn’t wear heels. One, the streets. Two, Joseph wasn’t that tall and you didn’t want to be taller. Three, fine. Maybe you didn’t bring any heels.

“Careful, these stairs are a little slippery,” he warned you softly, making sure he held onto the railing tightly while continuing to hand out stability to you with his arm.

“You look really pretty. I wanted to say so earlier but words got away from me,” he told you right before you entered the boat. A blush tainted your cheeks and you smiled softly.

“Oh— Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”

“Oh, stop it,” he chuckled abashedly as he let you go in first. After Joseph checked in with the waiter for your reservation under the name of Steven Johnson and sat you down near a window, you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Should I call you Steven for the time being?” You asked him softly. Joseph covered half his face with his hand and groaned.

“I panicked when they asked for a name alright? I know it’s not the best.”

“It’s fine.”

When the waiter came over for drinks you decided on red wine, while he went with a dark beer. You discussed your food options thoroughly, with Joseph managing to get totally lost into his food related stories at nearly each one. You had had a short world tour of his experiences in several countries by the time you had both made up your minds, nearly able to taste it after Joseph’s detailed descriptions. His eyes lit up when the breadbasket was brought to the table and he eyed it eagerly, waiting for you to go first. You took the butter knife and added salty butter to one, looking up.

“Do you want one too?” You asked politely, holding the one you just smeared out for him to take.

“I’d— Oh, thank you,” he responded slightly flustered, accepting the slice from you and then watched you make another one. When the main course arrived, you were well into your third, maybe fourth topic of the evening. It all felt so natural that you sometimes forgot that you had been putting this man onto a pedestal for some time. Not that he didn’t deserve a pedestal anymore, he was an amazing guy still, but he felt more leveled. Equal. In reach. Quite literally so, but also figuratively. He was just Joe. That’s what he preferred to be called. Though you stubbornly kept the joke up and only called him Steven for the rest of the evening. Whenever there was silence, you would look out the window and admire the city, as far as the darkness allowed you to. The reflection of the windows in combination with the lights from both inside and out made it a tricky view, but a pretty one nonetheless. When Joe’s knee nudged yours, you turned your head to look at him but his eyes weren’t on you. After subtly nudging his leg back with your own, he kept it there. It seemed to be intentional. You decided it was late enough to go for a stroll on your way back to the hotel instead of getting a ride, and found yourselves admiring the pretty lit canals, where you were momentarily distracted by a stray cat. Joe watched you with a calm nature while he smoked a cigarette, passing the time until you had told the cat goodbye. Passing the Dam, you noticed it was still pretty lively, and you spent a bit of time watching a performer dance with fire.

“Oh, it’s my agent, hang on.” Joe excused himself and walked away from the small crowd that had gathered around the performer. While you were curious, you didn’t want to be impolite and stare, so instead you looked around the crowd. After what seemed like ten minutes, the crowd had thinned out and the performer was packing up his stuff. You stood there awkwardly, not wanting to ogle the performer who was clearly done, but also not wanting to bother Joe. Instead, you took some distance from both and sat down on a stone bench. It was obvious that Joe’s mood was sour when he returned to your side, slumping down next to you.

“Turns out I only have the morning left tomorrow. Change of plans. So I won’t be able to check out anything, not enough time. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me but unfortunately I can’t even do that.”

“Oh I’m sorry, that’s a bummer. Where do you need to be?” It was hard to keep your expression in check. To not look too disappointed at this news while in reality you felt down to cry. The fact that he had wanted to go sightseeing with you possibly made it even worse.

“You can’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a photoshoot for this magazine thing in LA.”

“That sounds, uhm, cool,” you tried to say enthusiastically but failed horribly once you saw his expression.

“Yeah, it is. Just not so fond of last minute changes.” He rubbed his palms onto his knees, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that welled up in his stomach.

“I get that. I don’t like them either. I guess I’ll have to enjoy tomorrow for both of us.”

“Please do.”

You would do anything to get that sad expression off his face. If only you knew how. A random idea sprung to mind and instead of thinking it through like you usually did, assessing the pros and cons and whatnot, you blurted out a question.

“Do you like reading?”

Joe frowned a little at the sudden topic change but nodded.

“I do, yeah, why?”

“Would you like to check out a bookstore with me? We could have breakfast somewhere and do just that, before you have to leave? Unless you don’t have the time or,” you laughed softly, “don’t really want to.” Joe shifted so he could turn for a better look at you.

“I’d love to.” His voice was sincere. Much more sincere than you had heard him be all day. Apart from during dinner, maybe. It was a relief to see his clouded expression had lifted almost instantly.

You decided that you both wanted to be well rested for the day after and headed back to the hotel, though there was a reluctance on both sides to work towards the end of today. It was obvious when the two of you parted ways, at the elevators, and even more obvious when you both stole glances from each other at different moments, convinced the other hadn’t looked at all. Even more obvious was the fact that neither of you could fall asleep, not until you accepted that the other person was going to be on your mind all night.

The last morning

Joe met you in the lobby dressed in black jeans, a white tucked in blouse and a coat that was already on his arm, his smile lighting up at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he greeted you softly, his voice a little hoarse still. He cleared his throat and reached for his vape, as if that was going to make it better. You smiled softly.

“Morning, Steven.”

“Oh stop it,” he groaned. “I’m never gonna get away with that, am I?”

“Nah. Especially not after accidentally telling me Steven is actually your go to alias and not just one slip up. From Australia, no less!”

“Think of a better name then, on the spot. Go. Go!” He urged you on with a youthful grin.

“Legolas.” You responded deadpanned.

Joe snorted and shook his head, already heading to the exit. “Oh come on, you didn’t even try,” he protested.

“I did! I was trying to think of an easy to remember name for you and couldn’t help but think about that massive cardboard you told me ab—”

“Now you’re just taking the mick,” he sighed. “I need more leverage to do the same to you, this is unfair.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

You and Joe made your way into the city to find a nice place to have breakfast at and you were quite relieved that you weren’t spotted. You loved watching him devour his breakfast, which was three times as extensive as yours, and see pure joy on his face at each bite he took. Time flew by as you shared more about your lives, and before you knew it you only had half an hour to get to the bookstore before Joe would be picked up to go to the airport. He was apologizing profusely, feeling guilty for messing up your nice idea to spend your morning, and you had to assure him it was okay.

“Honestly, don't worry about it. We had a great time at breakfast too, did we not?” You told him.

“Yes, but now there’s so little time left—”

“Would it be better if we skipped it altogether? I don’t want you to feel hurried,” you offered, as much as you would love to check out some books with him. Joe simply refused.

“No, we’re going to the bookstore. Even if I can only stick around for ten minutes.” He was steadfast and you decided it was best not to argue and lose more time. His concerned face was not something you liked to see on the man. The bookstore had several levels and wasn’t too crowded, but you noticed Joe wasn’t exactly relaxed either.

“Were you looking for something specific?” He asked after you reached the top level. You shook your head and shrugged.

“There are some books I still want to read, but… nothing specific in mind. Maybe The Midnight Library. It’s been out for a few years already but I still haven’t gotten around to it,” you explained. Joe hummed to let you know he heard you and the next moment, he had disappeared. For a hot second you worried that he had ditched you. Maybe for having a bad taste in books, or him suddenly realizing the time and not bothering to say goodbye. Neither scenario sounded very sensible, but your brain loved to make up scenarios that weren't sensible. You shrieked softly when he suddenly popped up next to you again, holding a paper bag with a book in it. The Midnight Library.

“A parting gift,” he said with a small, nervous smile. “A little hurried and a little lame, but there’s no time for something better. I had a great time with you so I wanted to give you a token of my gratitude.”

You stared at him, his big brown eyes peering nervously into yours to figure out your expression, when you suddenly hugged him.

“But I didn’t get you anything,” you mumbled next to his ear as you felt your cheeks grow warm when he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“We weren’t exchanging gifts, so there’s no need,” Joseph said softly into your hair, his hand coming up to the back of your head. There were so many things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but no words came out. Eventually you uttered a thank you as you held on to the embrace that was lasting way too long for it to not be awkward.

Except it wasn’t awkward at all. And you didn’t want it to end. Neither did he, it seemed, when his phone went off and he reluctantly let go of you to pick up.

“My ride’s here,” he announced sourly. You followed him outside, wanting to properly send him off despite the growing lump in your throat. You wanted to say something. Exchange numbers, or whatever, but your fear of having him reject you was too big of a risk. This was it. You should be happy, having gotten to spend so much time with him already, right? So why did it feel like you lost a part of you when he finally stepped into the car after one last, quick hug? When he looked at you through the window and smiled a smile that didn’t meet his eyes? You felt simply horrible. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was always much better in fiction, you thought. With their sappy happy endings and people running out of cars or going to airports to confess their love to each other after spending a mere day together. You hated the unrealistic part of it, and yet you craved it like nothing else right now.

A week later

Things had gone back to normal again. All but for one thing. He was on your mind all the time. It distracted you from everything you had to do. Stupid man. With his stupid handsome face and his stupid pretty smile and his stupid gorgeous hair. You never expected to suddenly fly off into the sunset with him, but man did you wish it had gone exactly like that. Instead, you had watched him leave in a car with a sad expression on his face that told you he didn’t want to leave you either. Or maybe you had just imagined it. You never even brought yourself to do more than hold the book, only to put it back in the paper bag that you didn’t want to throw away. It was all you had to go with your memories. To remember it was real. That, and some photos on Getty Images that you found highly unflattering. You had saved them anyway. Deniz had comforted you when you told him about what had happened and he was convinced that you would meet him again.

“He likes you. It’s obvious from what you’ve told me. He invited you to dinner right away, didn’t want the evening to end, wanted to spend his only other free day with you as well and did so until the last minute? Come on. I’m sure the asshat just forgot to give him your number and is eating himself up over it. I promise. I’ll eat my keyboard if you don’t end up dating him.”

You laughed softly and shook your head at him, and you loved him for trying to make you feel better.

“Please don’t eat your keyboard, I am busy enough as it is without getting your tasks piled up on me as well,” you joked. Deniz wanted to respond but suddenly got distracted by a view that was coming into your direction.

“Who do you think that’s for?” Deniz asked, gesturing at the bouquet of flowers that was definitely larger than your head. You shrugged.

“Probably Melody’s. Or Petra’s,” you listed the two pretty blondes in the office. Deniz shrieked softly when the person holding the bouquet passed both their desks.

“Oh my god. Never manifested something so quickly,” he whispered to himself. When they finally stopped at your desk and handed it to you, you were at a loss for words.

“The card, check the card!” Deniz urged on.

You searched through a bouquet of beautiful gerberas, lilies and other flowers you didn’t know the name of and finally found a tiny card. You barely heard Deniz’s confused reaction about the name on the card, as all sounds seemed to die down instantly as you read the card.

Just in case the note I secretly put into your book didn’t make it safely to your hotel for whatever reason. - Steven x

Below his name was a phone number and you recognized the country code immediately. Definitely not Australia.

FIN

#joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joe quinn #fanfiction #rpf #dirtymartini writes

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