#i figured it out and was so devastated it was a couple episodes of the sdc ova

[friendshiptothemax]

I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

[cleo-fox]

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

[littlelesbianintern]

Cynthia’s Coming Out Scene

I want to start with the fact that I think this is one of the best coming out scenes I’ve ever watched which considering this is a show set in the 50s is an incredible feat. This scene has me sobbing and Ari’s acting was incredible.

To be honest the way this show has represented queerness has been brilliant throughout the season. I love how the show utilises symbolism, but in particular the motif of queer people being able to have conversation about queerness without expressing it out loud is especially impactful - Cynthia/Lydia’s “you’re scared” scenes, the rehearsals, the fall dance, the conversation between Cynthia and Shy Guy. All of these moments convey deeper conversations than their literal words and to have this culminate in Cynthia not even being able to voice their identity/feelings out loud is genius because it’s such a universal experience for queer people.

Ari’s acting was phenomenal, literally just incredible. That moment before Cynthia hands the note to Nancy, relishing what she sees as the last moments of their friendship before Nancy begins to look at her differently? The grip on the note before letting Nancy eventually take it? The absolute look of fear as Nancy reads it? The gut-wrenching sob as she reads Nancy’s response, overcome with pure fucking relief? STUNNING. I’ve never felt to moved or seen. Give Ari their flowers because I can’t express enough how amazing their acting has been this season.

Also as much as I would like to know what the note says, I kind of love that we don’t? Like it remains this beautiful inside joke/moment between just Nancy and Cynthia. Having said that, I hope it says something like “rate the kiss out of ten” in a recall to Nancy loving to rank how good people are at kissing.

ON THAT NOTE NANCY NAKAGAWA IS THE ALLY OF THE YEAR. I love that she picked up immediately that Cynthia’s anger wasn’t entirely about her relationship with Potato, because whilst Cynthia definitely is angry about Nancy’s attitude, a little more of it was maybe some slight jealousy on Cynthia’s part? Nancy and Potato as a straight couple (I have my own head cannons but I digress) can outwardly express affection for each other but Nancy chooses to reject this. For Cynthia this must be incredibly frustrating, because as Lydia’s experience proves, queer relationship don’t have the same privilege, but Nancy takes it for granted. But for someone who said themselves that they weren’t great at listening, Nancy’s response to Cynthia, whatever it was, was perfect. And furthermore, she wasn’t just there to listen, but to actively turn up and support Cynthia in repairing her relationship with Lydia. Honestly just all of episode 10 was Nancy being an icon for a solid 55 minutes.

I also love the way that Lydia’s previous relationship experience adds a deeper layer to her relationship with Cynthia. I already kind of figured this would be the case based on the lyrics from Merely Players (“i know just what you’re feeling I’ve had that dream before”) and her conversation with Cynthia as to how school productions usually goes kind of read to me like she’s had queer relationships before. But it really reinforces how much Lydia likes Cynthia, to the point where she is willing to put her heart on the line again even though she knows how this might go.

Finally, although we don’t know whether the show will be renewed or not, the fact that the season ended with happy lesbians? Revolutionary. I’m going to be devastated if this becomes another sapphic show that’s cancelled, but I have a little peace of mind knowing that for once the lesbian couple hasn’t been left on a cliffhanger with no resolution. The reunion between Cynthia and Lydia was so lovely and Ari’s voice ? Holy shit dude!!!!!! They’re incredible. And the symbolism with the hall of mirrors, showing Cynthia giving every version of herself to Lydia? Amazing! So yeah, thank you Rise of the Pink Ladies for finally giving us some much needed portrayals of queerness with a happy ending, especially considering the context the show is set in.

[miami-lolz]

Rick and Morty Finale Theory’s/Predictions

inspired by posts by @fear-no-mort please check them out!!

The Freaky Morty Theory

The Freaky Morty Theory is that at some point either during or after episode 5, Evil Morty switched places with Morty Prime. There are some actual bases for this, and users have been collecting a decent amount of possible evidence for this reveal!

- Morty acting almost pre-season 4, like a Morty that hasn’t properly interacted with a Rick in a while

-Flinching significantly more then usual. In a flashback it implies Evil Mortys Rick was abusive which checks out

-the smug look. Don’t get me wrong Morty also has a chronic resting bitch face and smug I told you so look, but it has been a lot more prominent in the last couple of episodes

There’s a lot more to this but the basis is somehow they switched, and the season finale would be the time for the reveal.

If you are interested, @sadiecoocoo and @glitteringcrab have much more in-depth stuff about it!

personally, I want this theory to be true. It opens a lot of doors and would be a fantastic cliffhanger and segway to a more Morty-oriented episode or season.

Ricks Deepest Fears

His Fear Of Morty

Ok, so there are a lot of ways this can go. But here's in my opinion the most likely avenue;

Rick would absolutely never admit it, but part of Morty scares him. We see it on his face during the Purge episode, and more frequently during the last few seasons. But I think the reason he dogs on Morty and tries to keep his confidence low is because Rick knows how dangerous he can be when motivated enough. Morty is more aware than most and Rick picks up on that. He is scared one day Morty will grow up to be like him, bitter and angry. He sees it in him now and can't blame anyone else. Now with everything with Prime, I think Rick fears Morty will grow up not just like him, but like Rick Prime specifically. He'll get angry and lash out, do something drastic in revenge for all the ways Rick has wronged Morty throughout the years. Morty will realize what he's capable of and leave, and Rick couldn't really blame him.

His fear of Rick Prime

This one is probably what's gonna happen. Since Rick definitely didnt get closure from killing Prime, this could be his chance. To get over his fear of Rick Prime, of what he represents and what he is capable of. This episode might be his chance to a means to an end.

His fear of losing everyone else

Another huge one would be his fear of the Smith family dying the same way his family did. Rick has kind of detached himself but it’s no secret that he cares. He’s especially fond of the version of the Smiths he lives with now. Even admitting Summer reminds him of Diane. To lose them would absolutely devastate him. Maybe this episode will be him trying to finally heal from his fear of losing everything all over again and being alone.

Mortys Deepest Fears

His fear that Rick will kill him too.

Now I know how this sounds, but I thought, that would be interesting to see if one of Morty's fears is that Rick C-137 tries to kill him. Now I know that sounds out of character since WE know Rick would never but think about it, it’s not said but almost implied he probably could have fixed the prime universe from being Cronenberg but chose not to because it wasn’t his family, it was Primes. And I think Morty is smart enough to figure that out once he found out Prime was really his Rick.

He also compared Morty to his biological Rick multiple times, then basically beat his biological Rick to death with Morty to practically witness it. Now obviously Morty doesn’t blame Rick for hating Rick Prime and frankly Morty doesn’t seem to like Rick Prime either. But subconsciously I wonder if he thinks he’s the last strand, that Rick will one day finish what he started. it’s pretty clear C-137 would absolutely never actually kill him, but could you imagine him finding out Morty fears him

His fear of being alone

Morty has become detached in the past few seasons, and you can’t really blame him. His own Jerry seemed to get frustrated when he offered to get him a “new” Beth and Summer. Like they were toys he could just swap out. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He does. He defends Summer and his parents. His love is like a dog, it’s unconditional so no matter what he still loves Rick even after everything he put him through. So he was angry and upset when he left. Even afterwards, when Summer brought up”The Crow Thing” Morty got visibly upset. He even tried to manipulate Rick to come back. If a representation of that comes up, this could be a chance for him to give faith to Rick and his family that he won’t be left behind.

[gmariam321]

So I binge-read my biggest Torchwood fic this weekend. I'm still cringing over some of my writing, but otherwise you know what? It was still pretty good, particularly with plot and character. I'm proud of what I accomplished with my beta, who helped hash out so much of it. We had such fun working together! There's nothing like coming up with crazy ideas and figuring out a way to actually make them work. I also really like some of my original characters. Kind of makes me wonder why I don't ever write original characters with an original plot, but then I remember they need an original world, and I like the ready-made fictional worlds I write fanfic for. I have no real desire to build my own.

Anyway, the story was an alternate version of Children of Earth. I came to Torchwood after the series was over, but I think CoE did well in the ratings, didn't it? I feel like it was generally well received . . . until it wasn't. Aside from the devastating death of Ianto, there are countless plot holes that I'm guessing fans really started picking part online and then thought, hmmm, maybe it's not so good after all. We got some great Janto pics and gifs but their actual moments on screen were not the moments they could have been, you know? (True story: I convinced my parents and brother to watch it with me after they gave it to me for Christmas and at the end my dad had no idea Jack and Ianto were a couple. I think my mom figured it out but my dad totally didn't see it because it just wasn't enough. I still want to know why they were so weird from the beginning. I'm trying to remember if I wrote a story about it now...) And then fanfic exploded and there are now countless versions that are just..better. Stories that fix the plot holes of CoE and give Jack and Ianto the moments they deserved.

Fanfic really took Torchwood and elevated it. Sure, we wrote lots of smut (tentacles, anyone?) but we also gave relationships the depth we rarely saw on screen. We explained how Jack and Ianto came to be, even through all the new Big Finish revelations. We gave them real moments (and not just smutty ones.) We made them mortal and immortal. We saved Ianto countless times and let them travel the galaxy. We gave Gwen actual consequences and growth and even made her and Ianto good friends. We took the potential of the show, of 31 episodes and a few Doctor Who crossovers (sorry, I'm not counting the fourth season since most fanfic is set before it) and explored it over and over, showing readers not only what TW was but could have been. We filled in the missing scenes, expanded it, even rewrote it. I wrote over a hundred fics and probably read ten times that. What an amazing thing!

I'm so glad I was a part of it and have both good memories and some good stories to look back on. ❤️

[lurkingshan]

Step by Step and (lack of) emotional catharsis

I have been reflecting on the Jeng and Pat romance aspects of episode 10 of Step by Step, trying to pinpoint the source of my discontent. Because candidly, I expected to like it more than I did. They finally kissed! They started a relationship! They had several flirty, sexy scenes! Pat pinned Jeng up against a car door and climbed on his back! They made out like fiends on every available surface! I love all that stuff, and normally when I get to this phase of a romance I feel a certain happy giddiness come over me. Not so today, and I think I’ve figured out why.

Before I get into it, let me tell you what I am not doing in this post. I am not getting into the show’s already well-established pacing and editing issues. I am not predicting what comes next, nor do I care for the purposes of this post. And I am not here to talk about whether the events of today’s episode were realistic or in character. There are good discussions of all that happening already (check out this post by @shortpplfedup for a read on what’s happening with the plot), and there are ways for me to rationalize everything we saw and make it fit with what we know of these characters. 

What I am interested in talking about, however, is why despite my intellectual understanding of what the plot is trying to do, this episode felt emotionally unsatisfying from a storytelling perspective. And for me, it goes back to this:

And this:

Across nine episodes, this show slowly built up Jeng’s feelings for Pat from a crush to deep affection to ardent devotion. We saw him sink further and further into his feelings week after week. We saw him find ways to be near Pat and care for Pat. We saw him treat Pat with respect at work, make him food, watch out for his emotional and physical safety, and find ways to give him gifts. We saw him beg for the simple chance to be a safe place for him, even if he got nothing in return. And we saw his absolute devastation when Pat first failed to see him, then outright rejected his sincere feelings. We saw him cry in his baby brother’s arms because he was in so deep. We were not just told, we were shown that Jeng’s feelings for Pat are very intense, and that he wants a serious relationship with Pat. 

And so you would expect, at the culminating moment of this very slow burn, that the resolution to his arc would hold equal weight to all that came before it. You would expect a moment of catharsis where Jeng’s hurt feelings were acknowledged between them, where he and Pat finally clicked into the same emotional frequency, and where they came to some kind of understanding of how they want to either start fresh or move forward together as a couple. 

But that’s not what we got at all. Instead, the show gave us a very brief conversation in which Pat got upset with Jeng for distancing himself from him (after asking Jeng to distance himself from him) and started sobbing, Jeng looked kind of confused, said “I’m not letting you wonder anymore” (an utterly baffling line, the man has confessed like five times at this point), made a couple bemused faces as Pat continued crying while he explained the work situation, and then said “we’re together now” and went straight for a hot and heavy make out (and possibly sex on the kitchen counter).

Now, I am not at all opposed to these characters going straight to sex. Jeng has been waiting a long time, they’re horny for each other, the floodgates are finally open, congrats and have fun, you two! But I must ask, where was the emotional catharsis? Where was the narrative throughline from the devastated and confused Jeng from last week to the curiously chill Jeng of this week? Why didn’t we see a trace of hurt or frustration from him when Pat suddenly came in demanding things he had shut down so firmly before? The Jeng who was always so careful with Pat, who wanted them to understand each other, and who wanted much more than just hot sex and a good time - where did he go? 

And if we thought some of that emotional catharsis might come later in the episode, that didn’t happen either. Instead we jumped into a montage where we moved through what appears to be several months of their relationship (the timeline, as ever, is hard to follow, but Ae’s baby looks to be about four or five months old) via a series of scenes where they flirt (in front of coworkers) and have sex (including in public) while ostensibly hiding their relationship. And it really was pretty purely about sex - @neuroticbookworm pointed out to me that despite Jeng’s well-established fantasies of cooking and cleaning and caring for Pat, we didn’t even get to see any domesticity between them. It was work and sex and sex and work. The serious and devoted Jeng of the previous nine episodes became a horny boss who flirted outrageously in the office, decided to give his boyfriend an unearned promotion, and dismissed said boyfriend when he expressed concern about how all this was making him look. At no point in this episode did he seem especially attuned to Pat’s feelings as his anxiety about the office gossip grew (and recall, we had previously been invited by the narrative to notice Jeng’s attentiveness in contrast to Put’s selfishness). And when Pat tried to have a serious conversation with him, Jeng blew him off because he would rather stay in his happy sex haze bubble than deal with the reality of how his behavior is affecting Pat. 

Here’s the part where I tap the sign above again and repeat: I am not interested in debating whether this is realistic or can be read as in character for Jeng. For me, the important thing is that there was a significant disconnect between Jeng’s emotional journey through episode 9 and the emotionally lacking resolution we got in this episode. It felt like Jeng, after finally getting his chance, was treating Pat more like a fuck buddy than the faen he so desperately wanted. It felt like the Jeng we know was replaced with someone whose emotions felt lacking in the depth we’ve come to expect from him. 

I recognize that this show is not over and we may yet hit on some of these emotional beats I am craving. But we are already moving into the next phase of the story (surprise, more angst!) and this episode did mark the end of the long slow burn we’ve been on with these characters. Instead of feeling like we reached an important emotional climax when Jeng and Pat finally got together, it felt like we got two-thirds of the way up the emotional breakthrough mountain and said oh well, this is good enough, let’s take a selfie and go home.

And for me, it was a letdown.

[fandoomrants]

Sooo, just a small comment on some of the things I loved in the finale of PJO.

There are obviously gonna be spoilers here soo...

-The fight between Percy and Ares!!! I loved the wave and now it was a subtle way of showing Poseidon was indeed beside him.

-The scenes between Percy and Luke!!! "Look, you didn't want to be a half-blood...". I loved the addition of these flashbacks of Luke teaching Percy to fight.

-Olympus! Omg, it was so pretty!!!

-Percy immediately being a total little shit with Zeus, I loved that!

-Poseidon showing up to protect Percy!

-Percy understanding only the word for "father" in Ancient Greek. He knows it because of Sally!

-"Ares is a moron."

-Overall the whole exchange between Percy and Poseidon. It really is a big step from him being all bitter and it was a bit corny but I liked it still.

-When Percy reveals Luke is the Lightning thief!

-Luke not fighting Percy at first. I have thoughts about the whole thing but I'll put them later on.

-Luke snapping for a moment and attacking Percy only after he mentions his father.

-Annabeth and her dagger!

-"Wait, your name is Percy!" And later "I don't think so", This was sooo hilarious. Especially when you think about how he initially tried to lie to him he's his dad. I'm pretty sure Dionysus knows his and everyone's name very well, he just likes being a jerk.

-"Some place called Disneyland", tbh, I feel like Annabeth won't be thrilled. I certainly wasn't and I was still am pretty childish as a kid.

-Grover's license!

-Their pact! That was so cute!

-"What did you dream of?" "Grandpa.". For a moment there I was like "What!? Are they tring to make it look like it was all a dream or that they're trying to make it as if Sally doesn't remember!?" but a moment later I was like "Nope, that's Percy Jackson, of course he'd refer to Kronos as his grandpa even tho he's his biggest enemy rn"

-Blue pancakes!

-When Percy and Sally were leaving the apartment, Percy's last narrative and the rain outside!

-The devastating moment when I thought we're not seeing Gabe turned into a statue but juuuust in case skipping the credits (call it a feeling or sth) and...

-GABE TURNING INTO A STATUE!!!! I'm honestly so happy! I'm not even mad Sally didn't do it as it was implied in the books. But she was divorcing him! I know he wasn't portrayed as bad as he was in the books in the TV show but I still believe he was emotionally abusing and he was still a jerk even tho it was toned down. Also, he was such an annoying, whiny bit-$(#..

...

That's all I can think of rn, even tho I believe there were other things too.

Now, I gotta admit I've read the book a looong time ago so I don't remember everything in great details but I noticed lots of the changes in the episode and throughout the whole season. I still enjoyed the show a lot, tho. Most of the changes made sense and like... Come on, it's an adaptation! And Rick Riordan was involved in the process so I believe he knew what he was doing with all these changes.

Tbh, I liked the first two episodes a lot, then idk, the third, maybe fourth too, were a tiiny bit meh to me but overall, I loved it and loved the last couple of episodes! I have mixed feelings for some things like them knowing about Medusa, the Lotus casino and other stuff but again, I trusted the process and it worked! It's only 8 episodes and there was a lot to happen there so I can see why these changes were needed. Figuring all out would have taken them a lot of time. Also, it was as much for new fans as it was for new ones so of course some things had to be made differently. For example, how the whole thing about who would betray Percy was done.

I've been watching lots of videos and posts of new fans who haven't read the books and I was cackling like an old hag at their assumptions how it was gonna be Grover or sth. And you just can't convince me that episode 7 and Annabeth getting caught by one of the roots wasn't with the exact purpose of making people think "Oh, they are friends now, what if it's her?" It was really well-played. And let's not forget how everyone was like "Luke! Babyboy, so precious." Can't wait to see everyone's reactions now... (Luke is still these things, even though he is "bad guy")

Speaking of Luke, again, haven't read the books in a while but I somewhat don't remember him and Percy being that close and being such good buddies. Idk, might need to read them again but even though I didn't mind that dynamic too much, I really thought this is more like how Luke and Annabeth should have been. I feel like we needed more interactions between them. Also, Luke speaks randomly about her twice, first telling Percy about her and calling her "my little sister" and then last episode giving that example with the spiders (nopee, I don't believe itt, she won't crush it, she'll scream and run unless it's a huge spider, then she'll fight it because of her bf) but she barely (if not ever) mentioned him? Yeah, she mentioned Thalia but almost nothing of Luke?? How are you gonna convince me that was her hero!? She should have been broken by his betrayal much more than Percy! Also, they kinda made Luke somewhat of a big softie, I thought it was because then his betrayal would have been more devastating but nope, there wasn't some kind of a 180° turn in his behaviour. Wonder why, to make him more relatable or? I want to see how his further actions are going to play out in this scenario...

Anywayy, all in all, I enjoyed the show a lot and I hope there is a next season. I want to see how the story will proceed on the screen (and I hope the changes we keep getting aren't anything too essential).

[deansmom]

listen it’s 2021, nobody can yell at me for my Hot Takes on the w*nchester bros and specifically sam because none of you care about me anymore lmao

and no, I will not be responding to defenses of these things, I just want to yell about this because I can’t stop thinking about it now

I don’t think anything demon!dean said to sam was out of line, not really, because like yeah, it was mean whatever, but sam has said WAY crueler things to and about dean when he was just a normal human person. but dean gets crucified for being a demon and fully expressing himself and his trauma and his feelings? nah fuck that lmao

I’m up to s8 in my rewatch and it’s absolutely wild to me how sam STILL thinks he’s better than dean. not only does he still somehow think he’s smarter, but he also thinks he’s BETTER than dean. that dean’s like, a bad person or whatever - as if both of them aren’t mass murderers ffs

this mans really said “I don’t know if my brother is alive or dead...... hm sucks for him I guess lol.” like yeah, sure, trauma, whatever. everybody handles and processes trauma differently, I know, but seriously sam??? sure, take a couple months if you need it, but just - no effort? didn’t even try? didn’t even do a quick google search? 

just fucking ditched kevin, a SIXTEEN YEAR OLD KID, and then got mad at dean when dean was like “dude wtf is the matter with you this kid was our responsibility” 

fandom ALWAYS wants to talk about how dean’s the more toxic one but damn, dean gets one friend - his first friend who isn’t cas!!! - and sam’s like “lmao this dude has to die” LITERALLY ONLY BECAUSE DEAN KILLED AMY, WHO WAS KILLING INNOCENT PEOPLE (for a good reason, sure, but like, she was still killing innocent people and benny’s out here just minding his own business, stealing AB- negative blood because they can get blood transfusions from any negative blood type!! his old ass wasn’t hurting anybody) and the episode before sam finds out about benny they let kate go be a werewolf and then when dean mentions that to sam about benny he’s like “so?! she was a victim!” and he’s like “and benny hasn’t done anything wrong!” and sam just doesn’t give a shit lmao

he ALWAYS bitches about how dean doesn’t trust him and I’m just sitting here like??? damn bro I WONDER FUCKING WHY. sam only takes responsibility for his actions when it’s convenient for him, generally when he’s being portrayed as the victim, and it!!!!!! [screams into a pillow]

dean’s like “he’s never given me a reason to doubt him” (about benny) and sam immediately goes “well it must be nice to find that” and dean takes a second to figure out what sam’s talking about and it’s just like WOW, didn’t fucking mean it like that, but yeah IT IS NICE SAM TO HAVE A FRIEND THAT THUS FAR HASN’T BETRAYED ME, IT’S A GOOD FEELING like tf is the matter with you dude come on

OH OH OH and when dean came back from hell in s4 sam’s going around like “dean’s weak he can’t handle it” but doesn’t try to help his brother?????? doesn’t offer him emotional support or validation or anything that you should offer someone who’s just been through something profoundly traumatic and is ~*~struggling~*~ to keep themselves afloat. 

listen dean certainly isn’t an unproblematic saint in this relationship specifically, but sam is SO MEAN??? ALL THE TIME??? and I know it’s because especially in the early seasons he associates dean with his dad and him and john never got along because they were too much alike, blah blah blah, whatever,  it’s still not cool to project your trauma onto other people and take it out on them. 

will I ever be over 9.13? no. no I will not, because that was the cruelest thing that could have maybe ever been said to dean, and yeah again, trauma, whatever, but like......... if you’ve been traumatized and your response is to purposefully emotionally devastate someone that you know 1) had no malicious intentions and 2) is emotionally unstable and perpetually suicidal, I’m allowed to hate you wtf??? 

sam knows NOTHING about his brother. 

like ok in the fic that I’ve been writing somebody was like “it’s very in character but edgier but dean didn’t hate john” and listen, I TRULY think that dean hated him in canon. yeah, even in s1. watch 2.01 again, watch the episode where john is possessed by azazel, the dream root episode, I think it’s 12.22 that speech with mary, but like, especially on my rewatch, I cannot read their relationship as anything other than at that point neither one of them liked each other. something happened in between sam leaving and dean coming to get him, and dean went searching for john out of obligation and an excuse to see sam. 

you can’t convince me that john liked dean. of course he loved him, a familial obligation was deeply ingrained in that man, but I don’t think he liked dean at all. I think dean reminded him of mary, I think he thought dean was too soft, and to be completely honest, I don’t think he liked that dean listened to him so easily. john wanted to be in charge, obviously, but he’s such an antagonistic fuck always looking for a fight with somebody, that it probably bothered him that dean didn’t really push back. john didn’t think he was assertive enough, dean just didn’t want to be used as a punching bag, and I’ve always figured there was some sort of blowout after sam left between the two of them and they didn’t really talk much after that. “it was the worst night of my life” is what dean called the night sam left for stanford, and while his little brother leaving would’ve been devastating, I don’t think that alone would qualify it (in season 5, mind you, after hell and the hellhounds and everything) as the worst night of his life. I also think that’s why john was such a POS in s1 when they found him, giving dean shit for the impala, y’know. god, I really fucking hate him lmao

nobody seems to agree with me on this, but sam is very much his father’s son, and that’s why they never got along. the two of them were so much alike (and so self-centered) that they couldn’t help but butt heads together because they both wanted to be the center of attention, and also just enjoy picking fights. and like, I think this is a big reason why dean has a harder time being honest with sam than sam has with being honest with dean. because dean sees john when he looks at sam, and sam just sees dean. and sam’s like “why don’t you talk to me dean” and dean probably just hears his dad making fun of him for being honest or talking about his feelings or yelling at him. 

familial/generational trauma genuinely makes it hard to interact in meaningful and productive ways, I get it, believe me I do, but sam is just so... cruel sometimes? and I think dean really worked his way through a solid portion of that trauma by the end of the show, and I don’t think sam ever really did.

Dean: All right, you want to be honest? If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing.

SAM [very softly]: No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances...I wouldn't. I'm gonna get to bed.

see, when I say sam is cruel, this is the shit I’m talking about because that is a bald faced lie and sam knows it. he said it specifically to hurt dean. he didn’t mean it, and he fucking knows that, but he knows that it will devastate dean to hear that, so he says it. 

anyways, sam fights dirty all the time. it’s 2024 now and I have no notes for past me, she was right. 

[bombsoverbagdhad]

Something I find especially interesting about Better Call Saul is the character of Howard Hamlin and how little about him actually changes. He’s not a flat character, he does have complexities about him, but he’s a rather static one. From his introduction in Uno to his devastating exit in Plan and Execution, he doesn’t undergo any real arcs or changes to his character, and if he does they’re very minor. Instead what changes is our perspective of him.

Through the first couple seasons we’re lead to believe that Howard is a pompous prick who puts on a friendly act with Jimmy but unfairly persecutes him, even going so far as to shut Jimmy out of a case that Jimmy delivered to HHM on a silver platter. And this impression is seemingly confirmed when Howard snaps at Kim when she questions why he shut Jimmy out of the Sandpiper case. Then, in that same scene, as Kim is about to leave his office, Howard softens his tone and tells her to come back, a hint that there’s something more going on. Then, episodes later, we get the big reveal: It wasn’t Howard who kept Jimmy from being an associate at HHM, or shut him out of the Sandpiper case, it was Jimmy’s brother Chuck, and Howard, his best friend and partner, just let himself be the fall guy.

From then on everything we thought we knew about Howard is turned on its head. Especially when Howard finally stands up against Chuck and buys him out of his share in HHM after Chuck’s tirade in Chicanery. We learn of his marital problems. We see his grief over Chuck’s suicide (which Jimmy, still processing his own grief over it and projecting his bitterness towards his brother onto Howard, cruelly lets him believe is all his fault). We see him extend olive branch after olive branch toward Jimmy only for Jimmy to respond with a smashed up car, a pathetically unhinged rant, and an attempt to ruin his career.

And then, just as we feel like we’ve finally gotten to know Howard fully, just as he’s giving both Jimmy and Kim the talking-to they deserve, his life is unfairly ended in an instant by Lalo Salamanca. Not just an unforeseen consequence of Jimmy and Kim’s cruel games, but also of Jimmy’s (mostly unwilling) involvement in the Salamanca family’s war on Gus, however small of a part he might’ve played. Victim of a game he wasn’t playing and a game that was being played with him. And so he goes from villain to one of the most tragic figures in the Breaking Bad universe: His reputation in the dirt, the firm his family helped build being dissolved, and his body buried next to the man who killed him underneath a meth lab.

[naranjapetrificada]

I don't usually stay up for the new eps but it accidentally happened this time somehow? Anyway several immediate, off-the-dome thoughts, behind a cut so I don't ruin your scrolling:

Only having 8 episodes instead of 10 is really, really showing now

We were robbed of a scene of Ed and Stede dancing for even a couple seconds and I'm livid. My uncharitable take is that we could have spared a few seconds of the scene with Taika's kids (which was cute, don't get me wrong) to see them dance a bit

I don't have gifs or anything but Rhys did an excellent Devastated Face pulling Taika into the cabin like that, and I'm still processing that *that* was the inciting event for it

Taika did excellent bedroom eyes while the curtain was getting pulled around the bed nook but I guess we already knew he was good at eyes

Speaking of the bed nook, that really limited the cinematography options for a morning after scene didn't it? Rhys did some nice faces but honestly? It didn't feel as warm and affectionate as I was hoping and I can't quite figure out why yet

Actually relevant to my last point, but despite it being The Part of the Show Where They Fuck, did anyone else feel like there was a noticeable lack of casual affection in 6&7? Because tbh the main reason I wanted them to fuck was the eventual casual affection. I might do a whole separate post about this after a re-watch.

At least right now, I'm less bothered by the Izzy stuff I haven't been able to shut up about lately, maybe because there's more important stuff going on

Everything was set up for the "breakup" to the point where I wasn't surprised, and I'm also not worried given what's most likely coming in the finale

The most shocking moment to me was Stede setting that person on fire. With the Ned Low scene I could see how they were pulling the strings together, like that he insulted Ed and that people talk about the real Stede Bonnet introducing walking the plank. But he was so casual with throwing that cigar that even though it was undeniably badass, it was just so out of character (in a believable way, like the kind of thing that shows a character hitting a point of no return) that it totally took me by surprise (in a good way)

Now I actually do have to sleep but I'm super excited for a re-watch later!

[tamtamandtim]

Here’s that part 2 of my Moominvalley season 3 ramble? That I promised!! A couple of days ago but shhhhhhhh

Moominpapa really was just trying to see if he could get away with murder, while also looking for a possible business opportunity and honestly? Respect the hustle.

I also love that Cedric is from Ms.Fillyjonk and it also gives a timeline to Melody of Moominvalley, I’m sure I’m probably late to realising that it’s a post season game but shhhh

Oh my god they’ve got some pipes and the whole musical number was really sweet, I really have grown to like Ms.Fillyjonk and I want that song either extended or put on Spotify but I kinda want both, as a little treat >:))

I’m glad that once again Moomin is trying to learn boundaries with Snufkin it’s kinda fair that he is trying to not be in Snufkins space too much and help out where he can but simultaneously god damn poor Snufkin he’s just trying to chill and check on toofle and BOOM EMPLOYENT.

I did love him and the Hemulens dynamic that episode it was so sweet how much they both cared about the children at the park, also once again didn’t realise that pretty much all the employed people of Moominvalley are Hemulens. That kinda cool because like they don’t really have a finical system or at least one that’s necessary, so they can literally just have whatever job they want and I’m kinda jealous.

Also it seems my boyfriend is actually enjoying it quite a bit and might actually watch the full thing!! And he immediately noticed that something was off about the hattifattner and I was so happy about that.

“I don’t know the meaning of the word”

Without missing a beat they said.

“Oh trust me. We know.”

“You didn’t give up on your dream, you just shelved it”

Cue us both looking at each other and laughing our asses off, it’s super fun watching it with someone else!!

Snufkin made his one on screen appearance in Moominmama’s dream and we were both ready for him to be halfway down the beach, like he did last time he talked to Moominmama god it was hilarious. If I ever figure out how to make a gif I promise ill add it here

I’m so proud of myself for the timing of us watching the last episode, we watched it the day of the eclipse happened and shockingly Sniff was the only one smart enough to wear sunglasses.

I also loved that Snorkmaiden was going to be the one who did the midsummers spell (I know it was with Moomintroll too but shh) and ended up also showing little my and I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t hoping that it would show eachother (they’ve kinda grown on me as a ship)

Snork was a delightful character and I’m absolutely devastated by the unfortunate passing of Chance Perdomo may he rest in peace (I apologise I wasn’t too sure where to put this in the post)

The ending of season 3 was actually really sweet and I’m so glad that we are getting a season 4 soon, I can’t wait to see how they make me consider getting therapy!! But thank you for reading this! And I hope you have a wonderful day/night/time!!

[notmyprey]

Have you told us anything about your character Jay yet?

Im going to assume you're talking about the sea dragon, seeing thats the only one I specified their name to be Jay. (I have a bad memory when it comes to names, so normally, I default to the names Jay and Lilly for my oc's)

Ive not talked too much abt them, but I can definitely give some more info!! (After the cut)

2 things to remember:

The world they live in does have magic.

The thing is, is that magic normally comes in the form of enchanted objects and is rarely able to be used directly by a creature.

To start basic info:

Jay is a sea dragon who does possess a special illusion magic that allows them to not only show visual illustrations but also audible and sensory. That means that they are effectively able to create a human illusion version of themselves that can interact normally with the world. That illusion can allow Jay to see through the illusions eyes, but it does not allow them to feel what its feeling. They also are not able to simultaneously move in their normal form and their illusion form.

Also, due specifically to their species, they can control if they have stomach acid or not.

Background about the world:

Humans were forced to live in underwater dome like places due to the lack of land to live on. The domes are just a little air bubble that's held together with magic.

Storyline:

Jay met their friends because their now friend Dave, who had inherited a sub from his late dad (ooo foreshadowing, is the dead dad important lol?), gathered a bunch of his friends to all go kinda "monster hunting," aka trying to find new sea creatures. The problem is that none of them know shit about sea creatures. That's where Jay comes in. Jay may not know the names of the creatures, but they will tell you whatever you need to know about it besides that. Jay ends up finding them through a little flier that the group posted asking for assistance in identifying sea creatures.

Eventually, Jay gets close to the group and eventually becomes really good friends with all of em.

To get food while also helping their friends, Jay keeps their mouth open at the entrance to their home so that fish get caught so they had an easy meal.

One day, while out exploring, Jay realized a little too late that they were horriblely close to where their home is. (They didn't notice cause in their normal form they are absoluntly fricking ginormous, and the landmarks they see at their normal size are harder to see when tiny) they are not able to keep up the illusion and move their physical body at the same time, so ofc they try to stear their friend away, but being curious little shits they keep going anyway.

They find the entrance to Jays home and end up going a decent way down Jays throat before Jay just opts to drop their illusion.

Jay coughes to push their friends out of their throat and slinks away from their friends and back into their home.

After gaining their footing again, the friends are like, where tf did Jay go??? It's an enclosed sub??? Huh??? They end up following the tunnel where "the strange creature," aka Jay, went.

They get into this really big ass cave with light flowing in from many small holes in the roof, allowing sunlight in. They then see a poor sobbing Jay, just absolutely devastated, believing their friends hate them and are afraid of them now.

Their fiends dont know its Jay, and they excitedly start to chatter among themselves and grab their cameras.

Jay hears the noise and move to look at it, and upon seeing its their friends the press themselves as far against the wall as they can. Jays friends, however, freeze, unsure how to know if this new creature is friendly.

Still trembling, Jay quietly apologies, tears starting to fall from their eyes again.

Finally, at hearing Jay speak, their friends finally figure out its them and go to comfort them.

A couple of "Filler Episodes" Lol:

1. The group is exploring (after knowing Jay is not human), and they run into a large creature. Jay tries to fight off the creature, but it is difficult since they also have to protect their friends. After the other creature almost hurts the submarine Jay's friends were in, they decide 'fuck it' and just swallow their friends, sub and all.

2. Jays friends go on a mini field trip down Jays throat and to their stomach.

3. Jay has not been able to taste most food since its such a small amount that their tastebuds dont detect it. Once Jays friends find that out, they set out to buy a heck ton of stuff so Jay can taste some good food. They end up making enough soup to fill a 2 story house to the brim, and fortunately, it was enough for Jay to get one bite of soup.

[doublel27]

Anon is right tho. I mean it's lovely how much carlos loves TK and how he's not afraid to show it but we need to see the same effort from tk too. Now, don't get me wrong I'm not trying to hate on TK or tarlos I know they love each other equally but unfortunately they're not showing that. Like I was really hoping for tk to call carlos his soulmate but I guess we can't have everything.

Sorry for the rant but this episode is kind of let down for me and I'm sad because I was so excited for this episode and now it's 5am and I can't sleep 😅

Firstly, I want to start by saying that it sucks to be disappointed by something you were looking forward to. Especially something like a television show that is usually a comfort and is very much controlled by real people.

Second, dear nonny, I would like to say as much as I enjoyed this episode my feelings are not without some critique. I have sucked my spouse into Lone Star with me and our major critique is one that has been a problem with this show for a long time.

Tim Minear and the writers room over-write for their episodes and then film all of they and sometimes in editing/post production they’re so intent on fitting everything in that things feel very surface or not fully fleshed out. I felt that way about all of tonight’s storylines. There was more to mine, but it all got left very shallow.

That being said, I do fundamentally disagree about TK not showing love back to Carlos in this episode.

First, I’m going to start with context. TK was just told by his father that he has a 1 in 4 chance of having a genetic neurodegenative disease that could take him (if they have the gene) anytime in the next 5-20 years.

And Huntington’s is no joke. It’s like taking Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s and ALS and sticking them in a blender with steroids. It’s devastating and relentless and there’s a reason Robert is asking Owen to help him live out the end of his life instead of his wife and children. And TK is a medical professional who understands exactly what the progress might be.

And so he doesn’t lie and he doesn’t hide it, but he stays up until Carlos is off shift to have the conversation because TK loves Carlos too much to want to burden him with the reality of this disease.

But this is one of the first times all season that TK has been the one who needed comforting. So I’m not surprised that Carlos is the one that said the soulmates line. Because TK needs reassurance that this isn’t a line too far for Carlos.

TK has been doing that for Carlos all season.

TK looked Carlos straight in the face when Carlos explained the Iris situation and just said “alright, what do we have to do.” Many members of the fandom wanted him to be mad or petty or jealous or have feelings and while there were feelings, TK put Carlos first and helped to take care of the barriers in their way.

When Carlos was kidnapped and didn’t come home, TK was the one who tirelessly advocated that something was wrong. He figured out the pharmacy connection and then he literally saved Carlos’s life and had very romantic conversation as they loaded into the ambulance.

TK then, a man who has been having conversations about having kids since season one, faced with the fact that Carlos didn’t want kids gave up his dream and plans for fatherhood because Carlos is more important. Like…he cooked fucking dinner (how many phone calls with Tommy and Paul were there to get that together) and told Carlos it didn’t matter if Carlos was ever ready for kids because Carlos is all the family he needs. That’s a level of conflict that often leads to broken engagements and divorce.

This is all THIS season. Seasons two and three TK gave every romantic speech this couple had. Carlos is just getting here with words this season. And it’s beautiful growth for both of them.

[ncisfranchise-source]

NCIS stars Gary Cole, Katrina Law and Brian Dietzen had a lot to say about the hit CBS show’s upcoming Season 21 finale while speaking with Deadline at the CBS’ Fall Schedule Celebration in Hollywood last night.

There’s panic in the fandom as things seem set up for the possible demise of Cole’s Alton Parker and Law’s Jessica Knight in the May 6 episode titled “Reef Madness.” Written by Scott Williams and directed by José Clemente Hernandez, the season finale follows Parker and Knight as they discover three bodies on an old Navy ship that’s about to be sunk and turned into an artificial reef but end suddenly locked inside by a mysterious figure.

Cole shared some words of encouragement for viewers on the red carpet.

“Nobody told me if I am,” he told Deadline when asked if he was leaving the show. “You’ll have to watch to find out but, no.”

Law gave a little more insight as to how things will play out.

“I have to say, this is one of my favorite NCIS scripts. It is so well written,” she said. “I’m hoping that in the execution we brought it justice and that the audience is going to love it. I got to do a lot of scene work with Gary Cole, who is an amazing human being and an even more amazing actor. He knocked it out of the park. There were times in these scenes when I was watching him act and I was devastated watching him because he was that brilliant.”

She also warned fans will also feel the devastation during these “life and death situations.” In a video preview, what looks like a tall, heavy pipe falls on Parker leaving Knight in a panic. In another, Knight is underwater and appears to be drowning.

“Some big fundamental changes are about to happen,” she teased.

Dietzen suggests fans should be worried about more characters beyond Parker and Knight as the airing gets close.

“They shouldn’t just be worried about Gary Cole, they should worry about a lot of characters. No character is safe, that’s what NCIS stands for, I think,” he joked. “I’ll tell you this, Gary Cole and Katrina Law knock it out of the park in this episode. There are a lot of things that are going to be happening, not just the danger that our characters are put through, but also dynamics that are going to be shifting. Potentially even between Jimmy and Jess, this couple that has been fantastic for the last two years. I have to say, it’s my favorite finale script that we’ve had in years. It’s so good.”

[ultfreakme]

IFYLITA EP 8 thoughts

As prominent as JomYai's love is this episode, I think this was actually an Ueangpheung and Muey episode.

We repeatedly see how misogyny has affected the women in the show, I love that it is acknowledged that thought Yai and Jom are in a similar position to Ueangpheung and Muey, the fact that they are men gives them some leg room and freedom that the women do not get.

This episode especially highlights the divide. Both couples are queer and must hide but misogyny and suppression of women means neither Ueaungpheung nor Muey can ever be as free as Jom and Yai. Jom and Yai know the consequences and it will eventually catch up to them but Yai at least is confident he figure a way out for them to be happy. Ueangpheung had no choice in that matter.

I was really devastated when Ueangpheung woke up from her nightmare, and when Muey asked what it was about, we get a flashback to her lived reality. Her nightmare has come true.

Ueangpheung not lying or trying to cover up her love is extremely brave. She tells Robert straight up that he can do whatever the hell he wants but it won't change the fact that she loves Muey. But..the discrimination and level of control men had at the time means even such bravery...can't stop the system, can't stop horrible people from doing horrible things to you.

Interesting that Muey's aunt told her she could've done this with anyone else and it'd have been fine but the fact that it was the wife of a foreign master is what made things so awful. Most of the side characters we've seen in the workers are actually unbothered by queerness. It's the upper class that care so much.

Jom & Yai's sex scene was done so beautifully. They took their time, it was all very slow and admiring, you could really feel the yearning, the tension, the love and the lust. This episode, Jom and Yai are fully in their honeymoon phase.

Yai!!! He's so forward and cheeky now that they're dating. What happened to being gentle and not wanting to be too forward and keeping your thoughts in check hm??? Every time he gets all cuddly, Jom' immediately calls him out on it lol it's adorable. I love how they communicate.

I know provost said that Jom and Yai are destined and he knows through spiritual means. But take one look at those two and ANYONE can tell they're in love. These two make no effort to hide it and are very easy to read. Yai's heart eyes are so big and obvious it makes me scared for them. Jom's trying but he's no better either.

"Tell me if they cross a line"- Luang, they've crossed lines like twice now, maybe more by the time you decide to confront them about it. The train left the station three days ago.

All this talk about reincarnation is already getting me hyped for Ayutthaya period S2. I know Yai was a commander in that time but I don't know what Jom was doing and I really wanna know. Please let season 2 be greenlit!!

When I saw Fong Kaew investigating again I got so happy. Burn Robert down to the ground girl, ruin him. I hope Fong Kaew and Ueangpheung finally team up, help Muey escape, and ruing Robert together. Also I hated Ohm and Fong Kaew in 21st century but I hope they get a happy ending in the 1920s. Khamsaen is someone I'm actually rooting for, he seems like a good guy.

Ming.....we always see him so much in every other episode but in this one he only got half a scene. Next episode is going to be devastating. I mean, he already knew, but seeing the girl he likes in jail is going to hurt. wait.....Ueangpheung and Ming team-up to rescue Muey.

I wonder what 'change' Jom brings? spoilers for the novel: [apparently Yai doesn't get married in the 1920s and they reunite reincarnated in the 21st century. Maybe not marrying Busabong causes some change?] End of spoilers

I'm so excited for next episode!!!! And I'm dreading it too, I'm already begging for season 2 ;_;

[sofyachy]

Watching the end of Good Omens Season 2 felt like watching the moon landing, and I think I've finally figured out why. It's not the first time there have been outed queer characters on TV shows. It's not the first time there's been a queer love scene / kiss on TV. That alone isn't ground-breaking.

But for my entire life, I've consumed media that put the hetero couple into the main spotlight with token queer background characters, a lot of them killed off in a "bury your gays" trope. Or I've watched an ongoing series and developed queer ships that always left me a little disappointed when the romantic tension I perceived on screen was quashed with the introduction of a chemistry-lacking hetero love interest, or even simply brushing off the characters as "they're just good friends, because No Homo."

I've gotten used to this. I've come to expect it -- to always look deeply into the subtext, analyzing what's going on underneath the dialog and actions. Are these characters gay? Here is my 20-page literary analysis paper in which I go over every line, every detail, to argue that there's justifiable reason to believe something there that's not blatantly spelled out in words. (I literally did this with Hotspur in my graduate-level Shakespeare class because I absolutely needed someone to agree with me that this married character was so very, very gay, despite a surface-level "no homo" reading.) And it's still never "proof" -- just my opinion, which I can shout into the void until I'm hoarse.

And isn't that just what we do in slash fandom? We write our own endings. We refashion the stories we love to override that little disappointment that the original work gives us, as much as we still love it.

With Good Omens, there was already a strong fandom pairing Aziraphale and Crowley. I read the book after watching both seasons, so I can't say how strong that fandom was before those came out. But one of the things that struck me about the book was that there wasn't nearly the same vibe between the characters as there was in the first season. Hell, they weren't even the central characters of the book. And while the book says that people assume Aziraphale is gay, it's quick to say "but he's not; angels aren't sexual." No homo.

He and Crowley are...maybe friends? Associates? But there's certainly no scene with Crowley crying into a bottle of whiskey after Aziraphale disappears in the way he does in S1. It's like Book Crowley isn't allowed to have queer feelings because No Homo, especially not when he's maybe-friends with a maybe-homo. And it's not really surprising, considering the book was written in the '80s -- when gay rights was pushed back 20 years due to the AIDS epidemic.

And even with S1, it wasn't blatantly spelled out that either of them were queer. The aforementioned line about a gay Aziraphale didn't make it into the script (though he does refer to himself as "the Southern pansy"). We got some excellent scenes to rile up the fandom with somewhat-romantic dialog and actions. Still, on the surface, the reaction could still easily be "Hey, that looks maybe-possibly kind of gay? If you look at it just right. Here's my 20-page essay explaining why they're gay." And at the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley simply dine at the Ritz. Nothing explicitly gay there, unless you dig for it.

And then Season 2 said, "Hold my beer." And we got a full season of slow-burn romance at the forefront. The business with Gabriel was a ruse; the whole thing was about Aziracrow and their relationship from start to finish. We started out with the expected subtext, suggestive dialog, surreptitious glances. I remember thinking, "this is nice; I'm glad we're getting more time to just enjoy these two on the screen together." And then it kept building, and building, and building.

And finally, Episode 6 gave us "YES, HOMO." And after a lifetime of never seeing one of my ships amount to anything on screen, there it was, in all its devastating glory. They went there. That's what felt like the moon landing to me. It's something that seemed so far off to be impossible until it wasn't.