#sophia number 1

[smol---ame]

S𝑂𝐶𝐼𝐴𝐿 M𝐸𝐷𝐼𝐴 ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ Bᴇɴᴇғɪᴛs ɪɴ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏs. Iᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ Cᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ Fʀɪᴇɴᴅs, Bᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴇᴛᴄ. Tʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ Bᴇ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴜsᴇᴅ Nᴇɢᴀᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ. C𝑦𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, Sʜᴀʀɪɴɢ Fᴀʟsᴇ Iɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & Kɪᴅs ᴜsɪɴɢ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀғғᴇᴄᴛs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ & Sʟᴇᴇᴘ. Tʜᴇsᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇxᴀᴍᴘʟᴇs ᴏғ Nᴇɢᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ Wᴀʏ ᴏғ ᴜsɪɴɢ Sᴏᴄɪᴀʟ Mᴇᴅɪᴀ

[liam-zor-el]

holy shit the show killed carl. good riddance tbh lmao

[viennakarma]

New Year, New Us

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After you and Max broke up, you've never been on the same place at the same time again. That is, until the New Year's Eve party.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, ex!reader, a little possessive reader, spanking, cursing (but in a cool way), a bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Note: not me looking for a GIF that he's not wearing the team kit (there is none). This has been on my docs for a little while. English is not my first language (so please bear any mistake). If you’re my best friend, sophia, look away :)

Find me on Twitter!

“Are you sure he won’t be there?”, you text Alex, your best friend.

While waiting for her answer, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your makeup, basic due to lack of time, but beautiful nonetheless and the red lipstick gives the whole look a boost. On your body, you wear a set of a mini skirt, and a kind of strapless corset that holds your breasts firmly, giving your look an extra spice. When you went shopping with Alex the day before, she had confirmed that it suited the casual New Year's Eve party the group of friends throws every year.

“Charles confirmed that Max is not in town.” is the response you get from Alex as you wait for the Uber.

It would be really embarrassing if Max was there, because he's the ex you don't want to see under any circumstances. Your separation was difficult, and it almost caused a split in the entire group of friends. Luckily, Max went away for the Formula 1 season, and it wasn't necessary for his friends to choose a side, as he was the one who physically distanced himself from everyone.

Despite everything, he still meets up with friends from the group the few times he's in Monaco in between races, and these outings are the ones you refrain from going to so as not to cross paths with him.

Even though your relationship has collapsed like a house of cards, you and him do your best not to take anything out on your group of friends, you don't talk bad about each other nor impose any “either him or me” choices.

As soon as you arrive at the party, you realize that the “New Year's Eve party with friends” has probably taken on greater proportions. That's what happens when the majority of the group is made up of famous extroverts who make friends so easily. Charles had guaranteed that there would be 30 people at most, but when you enter his apartment, it seems to be at least triple that number.

You look for Alex and your closest group and find them near the small bar, getting drinks. Alex waves as soon as she sees you walking towards them.

She hands you a martini as soon as you catch up to her. Alex hugs you, complimenting your makeup, and you turn to Charles, hugging him, as well as all your other friends. You all toasted together, laughing.

Alex pulls you onto the dance floor, and you both laugh as a Rihanna song comes on. Both of you dance for several minutes until you feel a bit of sweat form on your forehead.

“Shit,” Alex murmurs, immediately stopping dancing. She looks over your shoulder at something behind you.

As soon as you look back, you see Max entering the party carrying a big box of some alcoholic beverage. It's impossible to go unnoticed when he's one of the most famous there. You watch as he smiles when he sees Charles in the crowd, as soon as the two meet, they exchange a friendly hug.

“Sorry, babe. Charles had indeed confirmed that he would not arrive from his trip in time for the party,” Alex justifies herself, but you keep looking in Max's direction. He's talking to Charles when, suddenly, he turns and looks in his direction. His blue eyes bore into yours and you swallow hard. You calculate an escape route for a few seconds, but he looks away and goes back to chatting calmly with Charles.

Alex pulls you away, but you keep looking in Max's direction until she shoves you into another room, which you recognize as the kitchen.

“We can leave if you want, we can find a nightclub or something,” Alex says, capturing your attention again.

“Alex, I'm not going to keep you away from your boyfriend on New Year's Eve just because I can't stand my ex,” You shake your head no. “Besides, if he's so comfortable, I'm not the one who's going to act like I’m not over him.”

“Oh, wow! Girl power, damn it!” Alex yells, opening a cooler on the counter. She pulls out two beers and hands one to you. With a bite of the cap, you quickly open it and after toasting your bottles, you take a giant sip that refreshes you from the heat and makes you more determined.

“That's more like it, now let's get back to the dance floor!” You confirm, with a nod after downing the entire bottle at once. Alex does the same and grabs two more bottles for you and her.

Together, you both return to the dance floor, you and Alex dancing and jumping, screaming the songs at the top of your lungs, as if there was no one else around. When Beyoncé's 6 Inch starts, you two start to dance sensually and sing along. With the song halfway through, you open your eyes feeling other people watching you and notice that they have opened a small circle around the two of you.

The attention only seems to make both Alex and you even more excited. Unintentionally, your eyes meet Max's, and you notice that he, Charles, and practically the rest of the party have their eyes on both of you. You grab Alex's shoulders and pull her close until one of your legs is between hers and one of hers is between yours, her hand goes to your waist, and she smiles as she guides her hips into yours and you both roll your hips.

“I know what you're doing…” Alex whispers in your ear. “He's going to regret ever breaking up with you!” She adds in a conspiratorial tone that makes you laugh

You mumble the lyrics to her and Alex pulls your hand, making you spin so that you stop with your back on her chest, placing you facing Max. You don't find any trace of shame in yourself, maybe whether it's the alcohol and the music, or maybe it's all these people staring at you and Alex with so much lust.

You look into Max's eyes as you dance with Alex's hand running down the side of your hip. His eyes are focused on you as he holds a cup of some drink. At some point, his hand exerts so much force on the cup that the plastic bends, spilling a bunch of drink onto his shirt.

You can't help but laugh when he looks down and mutters a swear word. He turns around and leaves. You continue dancing with Alex for a few more minutes until your feet feel sore and you’re very thirsty. When you sit at your friends' table, Charles serves you fresh cold juice. Max appears soon after, now with his shirt changed.

He sits at the same table as you, of course, because he is part of the group. Max sits on the opposite side of it, facing you. You look away from him when you realize your friends are talking and you decide to join the conversation.

“What happened?” Alex asks when she sees you readjusting the threads on your heels for the third time.

“My heels are killing me” you explain.

“I can lend you a pair of shoes. Do you want it?” Alex offers and you nod, “My stuff is in the guest suite on the first floor, where Charles always keeps our bags. You can take it if you want.”

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!”

You get up, crossing the crowd of people drinking, dancing and talking, to get to the stairs. As soon as you go up and reach the first floor, you take off your shoes and walk barefoot to the guest room, feeling relief in the bottom of your feet.

You find Alex’s bag on a dresser, and you rummage through it until you find a pair of white Jordans. You go into the bathroom and wash your face carefully so as not to mess up your makeup, and wet your neck to relieve the heat. After drying off, you go back to the dresser and you’re about to put on the shoes when the door opens and someone turns on the light.

You look up to see Max coming towards you with decisive steps, looking like a man on a mission.

“What are you doing here?” you murmur when he stops in front of you and his height forces you to lift your head to look into his eyes.

“You know what you do to me,” He whispers, his hand touches your face firmly, his hand holding your jaw and part of your neck “You know what I want.”

As soon as he says that, your body betrays you and you feel a wave of goosebumps running up your arms. Still, even with the clear expression of desire on Max's face, he doesn't move forward, just waits for your reaction.

You would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself that you miss him. Almost everyday, you miss the domesticity of your relationship, you miss his eyes looking for yours across any room or being the first thing you see as you wake up, you miss his touch both when it’s rough or when it’s exploratory like he wanted his fingertips to memorize you, his nimble hands and his cock stretching you.

You stand on your tiptoes to close the distance, and it's still not enough to reach him, so you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down until your lips meet. He kisses you tentatively for a few seconds, and then his arm wraps around your waist and he lifts you off the ground, pressing you against his body while opening his lips to yours to deepen the kiss. When his tongue meets yours, you let out a moan that he captures with his mouth.

Your fingers move up from his shoulder to the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard, thinking it should always be like this. That you both belong in each other's arms.

Then you remember he was the one who ended it. He was the one who dumped you right after going on the new season of Formula 1. Probably to be free to fuck some groupie or something.

You move until he puts you back on the ground, and as soon as you find your balance, you push him so hard that he stumbles back two steps, surprised by your sudden refusal.

The both of you are panting as you sit on the edge of the bed, running your hands through your hair as you try to find your sanity again.

“You did this to us” you manage to say through heavy breathing, “You broke up with me to go on new adventures, and you still have the audacity to talk about me as if I had broken your heart”

“Love…” He starts, the pet name probably a slip out of habit, but that makes you even more furious.

“Don’t fucking ‘love’ me!” you point an accusatory finger in his direction.

Max stands like a statue, panting and his lips are red and a little stained with your lipstick, and his chest is rising and falling. You stare at him not knowing what to do now. Then you look at his face, his eyes closed as if he was trying hard to think, his hair even more messy because of your hands seconds ago. Max takes a deep breath, then he takes a step towards you, and kneels right in front of you.

“I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I should never have done that, I love you and I miss you every fucking day,” He looks up at you, his blue eyes shining in surrender, in a way that leaves you weak. “I'll do anything to win you back,” He says, placing both hands gently on your knees. Max looks at you intently as he gently runs his hand down your leg, until he closes his hand around your ankle. He slowly lifts your leg, as if expecting a negative reaction, and then leaves a kiss on your calf without taking his eyes off you. “Please- I- let me win you back- I’ll do anything you want- Let me be good to you…”

The sigh that leaves your lips is almost involuntary when he kisses a little higher on your calf, and then another one above your knee, followed by a soft bite. You almost let yourself get carried away by the effect of his mouth on you, but then you remember to regain control of the situation.

“With how many people did you have sex with after me?” you ask, and he immediately stops moving to look at you.

“None.” He answers, and you bend forward to hold the back of his neck and you pull his hair hard until he lifts his head with a groan.

“Don't lie to me, it's been eight months, Max. Are you going to tell me you haven’t had sex with anyone?” you ask through gritted teeth, without letting go of his hair. He stares at you firmly when he answers again.

“No one.”

“You swear?” you ask, finally loosening your grip on his hair.

“I swear,” He kisses and nibbles your legs again, as if he doesn't want to leave any part of you untasted. “I- I just- fucked my hand thinking about you.” He whispers against your thigh and you almost don't hear him, he says it so quietly.

He continues moving up, and you gasp as he kisses the space at your waist between the base of your corset and the waistband of your skirt. Each touch seems to send a jolt of pleasure straight into your core, and you do your best not to give in too quickly. You hold Max's face and make him look at you again.

“You have half an hour. Better fuck me hard” you command, and he swallows hard, nodding his head.

You finally let yourself fall back onto the bed as he kisses your body again. He tries to lift the corset, but the fabric is too tight. Then Max pulls the corset down in one motion, just enough to release your breasts from above. As soon as your tits spill out, Max grabs them like he's starving.

You can no longer contain your moans when his hands hold your hips, trying to reach under your skirt and his mouth alternates between licking from the base of your breasts to the tip of your nipples, and taking in as much as he can put in his mouth to suck at once. And you know with how hard he's doing it, you're going to have hickey marks all over tomorrow.

“How does this come out?” He asks, looking like he’s having difficulties with the corset.

“From behind.”

Max leaves your breasts to kiss your neck for a moment and you feel one of his hands reaching between your back and the mattress to try to open it. With an irritated growl, he palms your back. You squeal when, with a quick movement, he pulls your back, rolling you around and turning you face down on the bed. He makes a sound of approval when he finally undoes the corset, takes it off you, and tosses it away. He pulls the zipper on the back of your skirt, but it catches halfway, so he pulls hard and you hear the ripping sound until you feel the fabric loosen on your skin. With a sound of disapproval, you're about to curse Max’s entire lineage, when he cuts you off:

“I'll buy you another one. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He gasps and soon you feel his hands touching your back and going down until they palm each side of your ass. He squeezes hard and you groan against the mattress, probably making a mess on the bedsheets with your lipstick. “I missed this,” He says, and then he gives your ass a slap that leaves you weak, then another slap on the other side, which makes your pussy throb. He gently massages where he hit on your asscheeks.

“Are you going to stand there admiring or are you going to ‘win me back’?” you say in a sarcastic voice when you look over your shoulder and Max is kneeling between your legs, staring at your ass like it's the Eighth Wonder of the Modern World.

“You're very bossy, you know that?” He says with a soft smile. He pulls your panties down to your knees.

“And you are complaining too much for someone who is on probation,” you keep looking over your shoulder and see how he takes his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking on them to moisten.

“Probation, eh?” He says, getting closer to you.

“Yeah, or do you think you can get back this easily into my life?” You scoff.

You stop looking when his hand disappears between your legs, and you feel his touch gently on your pussy. You grip the sheet expectantly, as he presses your clit and you moan against the sheets again. When his fingers penetrate you, you start to move your hips, following the friction of his long fingers.

Max knows your body like no one else, the bastard, and you feel embarrassingly close to orgasm in just a few minutes of stimulation. You hear the indecent noise of how wet your pussy makes his fingers every time he moves them in and out, massaging your G-spot with infuriating precision. When your pussy clenches against his fingers, you try to do something, anything, to delay the orgasm.

Without stopping his movements, Max bends over you, kissing the back of your neck, then he approaches your ear and whispers:

“I’ve got you, pretty baby”

You want to curse him for the power of this pet name in your ear but your mind simply explodes into a thousand fireworks when you finally come, still leaning over feeling Max's lips on the back of your neck. He keeps his fingers in you for a few seconds as you try to recover from the orgasm.

When Max moves away and you feel his weight leave the bed, you roll over so your back is to the mattress so you can see him. He gets rid of his clothes very quickly, and your mouth is practically watering seeing him completely naked.

“Are you sure?” Max asks, fisting his member before going back to bed.

“So sure, baby” you say, with one finger raised, you make a “come here” gesture. He starts to climb onto the bed, “And as I’m feeling merciful today, I will ride you just the way you love” As soon as Max is hovering over you, you push him until he falls back onto the bed, rolling over him and getting on top.

Moving your hair out of the way, you crawl down until you’re between his legs, holding the base of his perfect cock. You lick him from bottom to top, from his balls to his cockhead and his hips jerk with the contact.

“Love, please” He interrupts you, grabbing your face and pulling you on top of him. “If you blow me, I'll cross the finish line too soon.”

“Now, this is the first time this is a problem for you,” you tease him, letting a bead of saliva drop onto his cock which makes his little giggle turn into a groan.

“Baby, please, I need to be buried into you”

With a laugh, you do as he asks, and sit on his lap, pressing his length between the two of us and sliding your pussy over him, your wetness indecent.

“You're trying to kill me, woman,” He says in a tense voice. You watch the head of his cock disappear between your lower lips as you grind against him and more groans leave his throat.

You lift your hips enough to hold his cock and position it at your entrance. From top to bottom, you slide his length inside you slowly, and it takes some time for you to be able to fit him inside you completely. His girth is something above average, and the eight months since your breakup that you've been in a drought require you a minute to readapt to his size.

You let out a moan when you finally bring your hips together and feel overwhelmed by his size. You place both hands on Max's chest for balance and dig your nails into his pale skin. You lift your hips just a few inches and sit back down, the friction making you both moan so loudly that for a moment you worry you might be heard. Then you remember that the party is in full swing downstairs, and the music is loud enough that you don't need to worry.

Max's two hands hold your ass and you start to move with more rhythm, going very high before coming back down with everything, pushing his cock inside you. His lips are parted and you bend down to kiss his chin and neck.

“You are mine,” Something possessive inside you makes you say that. Max looks at you completely surrendered. “Do you understand?” He nods. You leave a hickey on his shoulder that makes him contract deliciously inside you and mark him as yours. You increase the speed of the rise and fall of your hips, your moans matching his.

Max gives up his control fully and just lets you ride him the way you want, his moans getting louder and louder by the second. He stretches you so well that your toes curl, and Max presses his hand on your lower belly, the pressure makes you feel something completely different as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Your knees weaken and Max takes the opportunity to reverse your positions again, placing you on your back on the bed as if he were impatient. Without disconnecting your bodies, he reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips to lift you a bit in the new position. He put your thighs over his where he is kneeling between your legs. Max pushes into you slowly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Your head drops back when he goes all the way in, his hips meeting yours until there is no space in between.

“Max! Oh fuck- oh-” you practically scream, pinching your own nipples to find some relief, “Oh my God!

In the new position he presses deep into your G-spot and you know you won't last much longer. His hands hold your hips even tighter and he lifts practically half of your body off the bed to thrust into you hard enough to make your head bounce on the bed.

There's nothing you can do but surrender to the pleasure that's building inside you with the way Max manipulates your body, holding onto his forearms for dear life, probably leaving some nail marks behind.

Max puts you back on the pillow, one hand he flattens on your stomach to keep you in place, and the other he presses his thumb to your clit. From then on, it's a lost cause. It's a matter of minutes before the orgasm that has been building for the second time erupts.

Your brain blackouts for a second as he pushes you off the cliff, and your hip shakes so hard that you thank God you're underneath, otherwise you would have fallen. Your pussy spasms also make Max cum soon after. Panting, he pulls out and falls on top of you, his head against your chest.

You lay like that trying to catch your breath for long minutes without saying anything, one of Max's hands running up and down your side and your fingers playing with his hair.

You still haven't said anything when you get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. When you’re putting on your panties, you remember Max destroyed your miniskirt. You gather the fabric from the floor and fold it.

“I'm sorry about the skirt,” Max finally breaks the silence, giving you the button-down shirt he was wearing earlier. As soon as you put your arms through the sleeve, Max fastens the buttons for you. you end up wearing the bustier over the shirt, like these it girls do and the final look isn't so bad. Max puts on another outfit and looks for a new shirt in a backpack that you know belongs to one of your friends.

When you’re both dressed, you leave the room still unsure of what to say. Max holds your hand, stopping you from walking any further.

“How are we now? Will you give you another chance?” he asks, sounding anxious. You realize you haven't given him a complete answer yet, which is why he seems uncertain like this. You rise on tiptoe, and bring your lips closer, holding his neck.

“I said you're mine, didn't I?” you whisper against his lips. You leave a quick peck on his lips and pull away.

But this time he doesn't let go of your hand, he just keeps holding on, tightly as you walk down the stairs back to the party, just in time for the countdown to New Year's Eve.

When you arrive at your friends' table, they start shouting and applauding when they see that you are holding hands.

“You guys are back together?” Alex asks, hugging Charles, over the voices of people counting down from 20.

“Max is on probation, if he behaves, we'll get back together,” you say with a playful tone and everyone laughs.

Max wraps his arms around your waist and you two join the countdown.

5, 4, 3, 2… 1!

“Happy New Year, Max!” you shout, over the voices of everyone celebrating the new year. He holds your face with both hands and looks at you as if you were his entire world, his blue eyes shining with deep feeling.

“I love you,” He whispers in your ear, before pulling you to sit on his lap and placing a kiss on your lips. He clings to you like he is afraid if he let you go, you will leave again.

"I love you too, pretty baby," you whispered back, laughing as his face went red.

[stormcrow13]

Rolling with Difficulties and a breakdown of project creep

Rolling with Difficulty is a live play 5e D&D Planescape podcast. Sophia, who plays Dani (does the Moviestruck podcast and is Overly Sarcastic Productions editor/producer) made several jokes about precious moments figurines in Season 3 so I wanted to make precious moments figurines of the characters. I started that in January of 2023 when Season 3 was playing and I posted it on April 1 of last year.

Since I made those I thought I might as well make minis and since I wanted to reduce the number of packages I held off on sending the precious moments to the RWD PO Box. And since I wanted everything, other than the precious moments figures(because I showed them off while making them), to be a surprise I didn't post any of them. Austin the DM thought that Intellect devourers are too goofy with dog legs so he gave his spider legs which I though was cool so I made it and printed a few. @comicaurora, who plays Kyana, posted some concept art of an ancient drone that appeared for a chapter of Aurora and I was inspired by the one she labeled as dumb so I modeled it. I thought it would be weird to only send one concept and not the one that appears in the comic so I did those too. They got posted earlier and separately since they are not RWD.

By the end of Season 3 I had modeled the original crew and Dani's robot cat Plug and printed a mini of each(plus and extra Dani for season 1 red Dani) for their player and Austin. I though I should send a Plug in scale with the Precious Moments figures and that the rest of the crew would want them. So I printed one for every cast member.

And then between seasons 3 and 4 they did a Weird Little dude one shot giving official art for every crew member's companion. One of Finbar's pixies Old Bay, one of VR-LA's mechanical bugs Drone, and Kyana's pseudo dragon Sunny. So I modeled all of them and printed one for their player and one for Austin. I was trying to paint and send out all them before Season 4 started so I wouldn't have to model Vhas. Well Season 4 ended in September 2023 and I'm posting this now. Season 5 was announced to be the last about the crew of the Per Aspera and I was still procrastinating on painting them so I made peace with them not being painted and just sent them. Austin told me he opened the packages right before recording the last episode of Season 5.

And I ended up needing to send them in two boxes despite not wanting to send more than one being the reason I delayed sending them.

The Models can be Downloaded for free from

Printables: Crew, Weird Little Dudes, Intellect Devourer

Thingiverse: Crew, Weird Little Dudes, Intellect Devourer

If you want to help me keep making free models or to tell me what I should make next please check out my Patreon

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Michèle Mercier (Angélique, marquise des anges and its sequels)—Mostly known for her main role in the Marquise Angelique series and my god she's so gorgeous there and an absolute marvelous character. Go watch it. I have no words. One of those people that make me go "I'm so fucking gay".

Jayne Mansfield (The Girl Can't Help It, Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, The Loves of Hercules)— The smartest "dumb blonde" who ever lived. Seriously, she knew five languages, was trained in the violin and piano, studied drama, had a super high IQ and loved dogs. She was arguably more well-known for her publicity stunts than any of her films, which is a shame because she is so freaking funny in both The Girl Can't Help It and Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter where her genius for spoofing her own bimbo image fits perfectly in the live-action cartoon tone they're going for. Like all her already stunning features are so exaggerated that every man around her is basically turned into the bonk, go to horny jail meme (as in this scene she struts around and causes a truly insane number of boner jokes). Still, those PR stunts gave us one of the most iconic old Hollywood photos of all time where Sophia Loren is side-eying her very famous cleavage as it threatens to spill out of her dress [attached below]. Not related to hotness but she was also the mother of Mariska Hargitay (aka Olivia Benson from SVU!)

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut, TW mildly NSWF photo]

Michèle Mercier:

Jayne Mansfield:

[staryingx]

Piecing together: The current timeline in Reverse 1999

CN SPOILERS up to Chapter 5 and Interlude. Long post.

The new Chapter 5 and Interlude for Reverse 1999 has shed some light on the Storm and its timeline. With all the new info, I've tried to piece it together as accurately as possible. Here's the timeline I have put together:

Let me break down my findings.

First of all, let's look at the IDM Computer with 37's Mother's prediction.

37 mentions "From 1999 to 2007, the emanation has taken place seven times". Here's how I interpret what the years mean in the Phenomenal column. It's like calling the effect of the Storm: for the first row, the 1996 Storm reverses the era 1999 to 1996. So the "1996 Storm".

The IDM only shows 6 Storms, so the 7th is the Storm that reversed to 1929. I wonder why she didn't include the 8th Storm (1929->1913), but that could be because it was the anomaly 2-day emanation that ruined the model prediction.

Here's a table I have made attempting to fill in the blanks of the IDM computer.

Let's analyze it Storm by Storm.

The 1st Storm (1999 -> 1996)

When: 23:59. December 31, 1999

Reverses to: 1996

Many sources for this, from the IDM showing 1996 to Greta, the writer of the letters in the interlude, mentioning it in her letters.

The 2nd Storm (1996 -> 1985) [Original: 2000]

When: 1996-1997.

Logs don't explicitly say when, but from the IDM we know it takes place ~1 year after the first Storm.

Reverses to: 1985.

We know this from Greta.

"Things remained unclear until time was reversed again. This time, we all witnessed that rain in the 80s. That was 1985."

She was safe in the Headquarters, witnessing the Storm reverse.

The 3rd Storm (1987 -> 1976) [Original: 2003]

When: On a 27th evening, 1987.

Greta: "The Storm in 1987 was predicted. "…but the prediction was not accomplished by LAPLACE. The captive from Manus Vindictae names the precise date of that Storm."

In Chapter 3, we learn the Foundation captured a Manus Vindictae member who gave them the date of the next Storm. Greta also mentions a captive from Manus predicted it.

Thus, this is the Storm that took place in the breakaway incident, where Vertin was 12-years old and witnessed the Storm for the first time.

Reverses to: 1976

Greta: "Finally, I made up my mind to write to [37's mother]... ... ... She died. On the same day, the first and only timekeeper who just took office, the 12-year-old child returned alone from the Storm. She told us the time in the outside world at that point." "...The last two digits in the number of the year after that Storm were exactly her name and her number: 77".

This was a bit hard to understand. I concluded the year it reversed to was 1976, as Greta said "the year after the Storm" was 77.

Original Year: 2003

Two years has passed from the 2nd Storm (1985) as this Storm took place in 1987. This fits with the year 2003 in the IDM computer. Also, when Sophia talks to Sonetto at the geometry graveyard:

Sophia: "Four years ago, my father was restored to a geometric body on his way back to the island. So was 37's mother who was also on that ship".

We know (or can at least assume) 77 is 37's mother who perished in this Storm. The current time is 2007, so four years ago is 2003.

The 4th Storm (~1976 -> 1930s) [Original: 2004]

When: 1976~1977/78

Reverses to: Some year in the 1930s

Original year: 2004

37: "In the initial four years, the emanation [Storm] has a pattern. First it brought us back to the 90s, then the 80s, and then the 70s. After that it suddenly leapt to the 30s."

When is the initial 4 years? 1999-2003, and this fits with our current pattern thus far from 90s -> 80s -> 70s. So the 4th Storm takes us to the 30s.

Sophia: "We miscalculated the impact area of the emanation. We thought the ships would be safe in the [...] current."

This confirms the Storm has a limited area it affects, where places hit by the Storm reverses to that particular year. The timeline of R1999 isn't going backwards linearly. This opens a lot of possibilities and eras we could visit.

The 5th Storm (~1930s-> 1912s) [Original: 2006]

When: Sometime in the 1930s

Reverses to: 1912

Original: 2006

37: ".... After that it suddenly leapt to the 30s. In the subsequent 3 years, [the emanation] took place twice."

When are the three years? The Storm that took us to the 30s was 2004. So the subsequent 3 years 37 refers to are: 2005, 2006, 2007.

The IDM jumps from 2004 to 2006. You can (very vaguely) make out "1912" from the year 2006. At least I think it's 1912. So the 5th Storm takes us from the 30s to 1912.

The 6th Storm (~1912s-> 1966s) [Original: 2007]

Here's where it gets interesting, and where I start to theorize things because there isn't much info yet about this Storm.

When: Theorized: 1912~1914

Reverses to: 1966

Original year: 2007

In 2007, there is a 6th Storm. This is likely the Storm before the beginning of R1999, which takes us to 1966 where Vertin meets Regulus.

Here's why I think this Storm fits with the IDM model and happens in 1912~1914, more possibly 1914.

In Chapter 1, Vertin lists down people she has met to Regulus.

Regulus: "Huh? It's Lewis. I know him!" Vertin: "Yes. I took this photo several days ago. He was selling the Hoover Upright Vacuum Cleaners in the West End, and thought photos would help his business, so he gladly took this." Regulus: "Why did you take a photo of him? How's he..."

Vertin's response is to take a deep breath.

This interaction was very interesting. Why is Regulus so surprised Vertin took a picture of Lewis? "How's he..." How's he what? Alive?

Now I'm not very familiar with historical figures named Lewis, so I could be very (and hilariously) wrong, but after researching who could be related to a business involving Hoover Upright Vacuum Cleaners, I speculate Lewis is John Spedan Lewis. His father, John Lewis, founded John Lewis, a British brand of high-end department stores.

In 1914, John Lewis hands Spedan Lewis control of a store named Peter Jones. Where is Peter Jones located? Sloane Square, London, which is in King's Road.

Vertin: "Yes. I took this photo several days ago."

This fits with the London location and timeline we know so far.  So a few days before Vertin met Regulus, she was in an area of 1914s where she met Spedan Lewis trying to get his store [Peter Jones] going.

Judging from her reaction, he got reversed by the Storm that took them to 1966. Spedan Lewis died in 1963, which is why Regulus is confused why Vertin has a picture of him taken several days ago, and why a wealthy Founder of high-end luxury stores needs a photo taken to help his business.

I thought this was a nice clue that Vertin was in ~1912s era before the 1966s, though this is all just speculation. Feel free to add your own theories who Lewis could be.

The 7th Storm (~1966s-> 1929s) [Original: 2007]

When: June 3rd, 1966.

Reverses to: February 14th, 1929.

Takes place in Chapter 0, where Vertin and Sonetto meets Regulus.

The 8th Storm (~1929s-> 1913s) [Original: 2007]

When: February 15th, 1929.

Reverses to: 1913

Takes place in Chapter 2, where Vertin meets Schneider, Druvis, and Sotheby. Manus Vindictae escalates the Great Depression to cause an earlier Storm. This era only lasts for two days.

These two Storms are straightforward since we witnessed them in game. I won't go into details about them. We're still in the year 2007 according to 37.

The Current Year in Ch 5: 1914 [2007]

Chapter 4 takes place from August 26th to October 10th 1913. The new Chapter 5 begins in 1914.

Eight storms have taken place thus far. Here's a summary with the timeline for reference:

1st Storm (1999 -> 1996)

2nd Storm (1996 -> 1985) [Original: 2000]

3rd Storm (1987 -> 1976) [Original: 2003] 

4th Storm (~1976 -> 1930s) [Original: 2004] 

5th Storm (~1930s -> 1912s) [Original: 2006] 

6th Storm (~1912s -> 1966s) [Original: 2007] 

7th Storm (~1966s -> 1929s) [Original: 2007] 

8th Storm (~1929s -> 1913s) [Original: 2007] 

The Current Year in Chapter 5: 1914 [2007]

Random thoughts:

I hope this post helped paint a clearer picture of the Storms and the possible timeline! Cause, whew, the reason I made this whole timeline was to make sense of it myself. So much lore was dropped in the new chapter.

A question that remains unanswered:

How do people predict the Storm? How can they tell the time in the outside world?

Moissan: "Since Timekeeper hasn't reported the time of this era to the Foundation, you two, as the Foundation investigators, shouldn't know what year this is."

We know 37's group predict them through patterns and math, but what about the Manus Vindictae and Vertin? Vertin just seems to... innately know through her pocket watch and Storm countdown timer on her bracer, perhaps related to her great sense of arcanum. I'm really curious about that.

Biggest Takeaways:

The Storm isn't going backwards linearly and it has a limited impact area. So that means some places not hit by the Storm remains untouched, while others get reversed to whatever era the Storm brings. The first Storm probably had the widest impact.

This means an era in the 1912, for example, could be "reversed" to 1966 if it was hit by the 1966 Storm. That's what I'm getting from all of this. Anyone in the Storm impact area just... poofs, and arcanists/humans in that time era spontaneously appear with the buildings and such. I really love this idea-story wise we could jump around eras.

Then we have places that are completely immune like the Headquarters, Suitcase, and 37's island. They are the only ones who can consistently keep track of time as they're unaffected like spectators viewing the outside world. For the Foundation, Vertin is their way of tracking time in eras: what era did a Storm reverse a place to.

Again, some of these are just speculations and my theories. If you noticed any information I missed out or a mistake, feel free to let me know whether through tags, reply, or even my asks if you're shy. Or if you would just like to talk theories or about Reverse 1999 I'm more than happy to :>

[pastafossa]

Idk if it’s cause his face claim is Oscar Isaac but Ciro is taking up way more of my brain space than I think you intended. do u have any of his lore in your back pocket? a tragic backstory? who he had his kid with? were they in love?? IS HE HAPPY? anyways. i appreciate you and i hope you’re doing well!! sending love

Thank you so, so much! I'm starting to feel a bit more up finally, and my moods are leveling out I think!

And ABSOLUTELY! TEN PIECES OF CIRO LORE:

Ciro and his wife Elisa (Sophia's mom), were a Mobster Power Couple, and madly in love. She worked alongside him and ran various aspects of the business. She was cunning yet cheerful, loved classical literature like he did, and they had plans for a large family. They both figured if one of them died, it would be due to 'business'. Sadly she passed away incredibly suddenly from an aneurysm a few years after Sophia was born, leaving him a widower and a single father. His daughter for a time was the only thing keeping him going.

He's made a good recovery since then with some therapy and has found he loves being a dad and is quite happy running his businesses, criminal and not, though he spends a substantial amount of time worrying about Jane, and would be even happier if she were safe. But he definitely feels like he's doing what he was meant to do, and feels like God approves in his own way.

Romantically (something rarely touched on in TRT), he's had some flings and short-term relationships with various people after his wife passed, mostly women and a few men, but he hasn't had anything serious so far, in part because he's been so focused on Running The Empire and raising his daughter(s) (and other adopted stray feral murder children like Eli). Though if he finds his second special person, he'd be willing to consider something more serious.

At the time of TRT, he has five cats, all former strays because this man can never resist picking up the lost, human and animal, and there are a variety of cat rescues around Los Angeles that find themselves mysteriously funded by an anonymous donor.

He's decent at guitar and piano!

In TRT the incident where his childhood dog was killed by a boar is mentioned. In his attempts to rescue his dog, he got thrown aside into a tree - that injury caught up with him later, which is why Matt notices arthritis in his knee and an altered stance when scanning him over!

Ciro and Natasha Romanoff know each other through (sketchy) business and are on friendly terms.

He's the eldest of his siblings (1 brother and 2 sisters).

He didn't always plan on being a crime lord but after running face-first into some governmental/legal corruption as a teenager, his thought process was roughly along the lines of, 'I could do better than them.' He likes to think he's kept his promise - there are a surprising number of people in his city, especially in certain neighborhoods, who tend to look to the Ferryman's justice and authority first over the police or legal system. His punishments are often cruel, hard, and unforgiving, but if you follow his laws and keep your mouth shut, you generally don't have much to worry about, and because he minimizes collateral damage and invests in the neighborhoods (to encourage loyalty if nothing else), most are happy to look the other way.

He 'introduced' himself to SHIELD by mailing a few specific agents the tongues of HYDRA operatives, complete with coins, after those operatives attempted to Fuck Around in Los Angeles and quickly Found Out. One of those SHIELD agents happened to be Phil Coulson. The two have a bi-yearly, location-randomized coffee meetup, which is how Ciro wound up with Agent Thompson's card after Coulson vouched for her record!

[leafjoon]

Between the Lines - pt. I

tbhc!alex x reader this chapter is bascially a slow burn, fluffy vibe charged w some sexual tension between the reader who is in college n our beloved alix who becomes her editor. warnings: age gap, alex is 33, reader is in her 20's, cursing, alcohol.

In the heart of the university campus, a quaint café served as a haven for students. Seated at a cozy corner table Y/N and her best friend, Sophie, found comfort in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of hushed conversations.

The soft glow of pendant lights cast a warm ambiance over mismatched wooden furniture, creating a warm atmosphere. Amidst the rustling of students immersed in textbooks and the distant murmur of espresso machines, Y/N and Sophie navigated the labyrinth of academia.

"Ugh, I suck," you groaned, holding your English lit paper in your hands.

"You don't," said Sophia.

"I got a C, Soph."

"Didn’t you do this on three hours of sleep?" she looked at you.

"Yeah," you grumbled.

"You'll do better next time."

"Ugh. I know. It's just such a blow to my confidence," you said, sipping on your ginger tea.

"I know. But this grade doesn't determine your skills. You're great at writing," she said, swirling her spoon in her iced coffee.

"Well. That's debatable," you replied.

She glared at you.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop talking shit about myself," you rolled your eyes.

"Good." She said pleased with your answer. 

You scanned the coffee shop and saw students going about their normal routines. Some of them were hurrying to get to their lectures on time. Others were lazing around in their seats, talking to their friends. Chatter filled the room as you let out a stressed out sigh. You sulked, not knowing how you were gonna recover from this grade.

"Anyway, as I was telling you. I asked my dad about Mr. Turner. He said you can give him a call and ask him to check out your novel."

"Oh god,” you groaned. “I mean-thank you so much. I don't wanna seem ungrateful, I just-I don't know. It feels awkward showing someone my short novel. If you can even call it that,” you rambled.

"I get it. I get embarrassed when I show my tutor my paintings. And he always has something to say," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Soph, your paintings are incredible. And your guy is good."

"That's true," she said, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

You smiled at her. You loved your best friend. You met in high school and became close friends senior year. You used to spend hours at each other's places, watching shows and mulling over the characters. She was one of the few people who was there for you through thick and thin and you weren't afraid to show your vulnerable side to her, insecurities and all.

"I'll send you his phone number and you can contact him whenever."

"Okay. Will do." You said, scrunching your face.

"If you don't do it, I will.”

"Ugh, I'll do it, I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

"I can't wait to go out on Friday. I need to get drunk and forget," you groaned.

"Same. We've been too stressed out lately. We need to let loose," Sophie added.

You and Sophie had a tradition. No matter the circumstances you always went out on the weekend. You often drank alcohol at your favorite bar or club and danced until your feet were numb and your hearts were pounding. Then you stumbled to one of your dorms and ate junk food or watched a shitty movie.

Sophie looked down at her phone, her clock reading 1:47 PM.

"Well, I have to run. I have Literary Criticism soon,” she remarked.

"With Mr. spits when he talks?" you replied.

"That's the one," she said, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

You chuckled. "Good luck."

"I’ll see you later," she leaned down, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You, on the other hand, finished your lectures for the day. Your Mondays weren't as rough, consisting of only two lectures in the morning and god, were you thankful for that.

Your eyes darted to your phone screen, after you received a notification from Sophie.

Alexander Turner

+378 09 998 890

Anxiety gnawed at you. You took a deep breath and told yourself It’s fine. He gets paid for this kind of job. He’s probably seen worse writing.

You decided to be brave and text him as there's no way you were calling him.

Hello Mr. Turner. Peter Herring recommended you as an editor. I am currently working on a short novel and I am interested in hiring you. Would you be interested in that? Thank you in advance.

You typed it out, reading it again. You erased the words ‘short novel’ leaving it blank. 

"Ugh." You said out loud. You decided to retype it and send it without thinking too much, letting out a sigh of relief.

As you were scrolling on your phone, it suddenly started vibrating and a number appeared. It read Mr. Turner.

Oh god. Why the hell is he calling me? Doesn’t this guy know how to text?

You answered your phone hesitantly, bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hi." a low voice spoke.

"Um. Is this Mr. Turner?"

"Yeah. What's your name, love? You didn't introduce yourself," he said in a thick British accent.

"Oh-um, I'm (Y/N)."

"Alright, (Y/N). You're interested in hiring an editor, is that correct?"

"Yes." 

"Great. How's Wednesday evening work for you? 7pm, my office? We can discuss the details then."

"Um, Wednesday evening? Yeah I'm good with that," you said.

"Alright. I'll send you my address then. Don't forget your novel," he added.

"Yes. Thank you," you sputtered.

And with that he hung up the phone. You stood there bewildered at this phone call. You just agreed to go to this random man's office on a Wednesday. You had no idea he was british. Why didn't Soph tell you he was british?

Well I guess you have an editor now.

*

In the sanctuary of your dormitory, you and Sophie nestled on your sofa as you found comfort beneath your favorite blanket.

"I had no idea he was british! His accent was so thick Soph. Like, I had never heard it before."

Sophie was laughing at you. "I thought I mentioned it."

"Well you didn't. Nothing could have prepared me for that. He was so swift and straight to the point. Skipped all the usual bullshit."

"Yep, that's Turner for you," she replied.

"How did your dad meet him again?" you inquired.

"Oh, he was his student in college. Mr. Turner lived in London for a few years and then moved here after my dad recommended him for this sort of writing position," she shrugged.

"Huh. That's interesting," you said. "Hey, what does this guy look like?" you asked, your curiosity peaking.

"Hmm. Let me show you his Facebook," she said. 

"His Facebook?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"What? He doesn't have Instagram. He's in his 30s." she added.

"Right," you nodded. You got up and sat next to her, both of you staring at her phone. She found his Facebook page and clicked on his photos.

"He's kinda cute," you said, breaking the silence. Sophie chuckled at your reaction. "He’s good looking," she shrugged.

He had big brown eyes and medium length hair that went past his ears, down to the nape of his neck. His beard seemed neat and trimmed.

"Don't get any ideas now," she looked at you, teasing. "I'm not. I want to see how he looks like so I'm not completely blind sided when I get there."

"Anyway," you continued. "Do you wanna sleep over tonight? My roomie's not here."

"Oh my gosh, yes. I'll go grab my stuff," she exclaimed. "Okay," you said in a singsong and slumped down on your sofa, stretching out your legs.

You couldn't help but feel jittery for Wednesday. You let your thoughts wander for a little, wondering what he was like.

*

The week was passing quickly, and it was finally Wednesday. You were preparing to leave and go to Mr. Turner's place. To say you were a little nervous would be an understatement. Your palms were sweaty, and you weren't sure what you were wearing was appropriate.

You questioned if you looked like you were trying too hard as you opted for baggy brown suit pants and a red shirt with long sleeves.

Ugh. I'm sure he doesn't give a rat's ass about what I'm wearing.

As you put on your big leather jacket and wrapped a black scarf around your neck, the words he spoke echoed in your mind. "Don't forget your novel." As you went back to your room, you made sure to grab your novel and quickly stuffed it into your tote bag as well as your dorm keys. You couldn't help but wonder if any of his clients had ever forgotten theirs.

You decided to take the bus to his office and followed the instructions he texted you.

102 Ave Street. Nr. 32. If you have difficulties finding it, call me.

As you strolled around the neighborhood, you spotted a house with the number 32. You walked past his charming little garden and couldn't help but admire how nicely maintained it was. 

Now, standing in front of his door, a mix of excitement and nerves crept over you. Unsure of whether to give a knock or press the doorbell, anticipation filled the air. You decided to knock.

As you took a moment to take in your surroundings, the sound of the door being opened reached your ears. Stepping into the view was a figure of a pale man.

"Uh, hello," you said, extending your hand for him to shake. "Good evening," he said, a slight awkward smile on his face. He glanced down at your hand for a few seconds before finally reaching out to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Turner," you said, maintaining the handshake. "Likewise. Please, come inside and feel at home," he invited you.

"Thank you," you quietly replied as you stepped into his house, though a slight feeling of uncertainty lingered. It almost felt like intruding. "This way to my office," he directed, gesturing towards the left.

"Would you like a drink? Coffee or tea?" he asked. "Uh, tea would be fine. Thanks."

As you walked into his office, you settled into one of the inviting chairs positioned near his desk. Your gaze wandered to the oak wood bookcase that adorned the room, its shelves overflowing with a collection of books. Your eyes were drawn to the carefully placed plants that created a warm and inviting atmosphere. You wondered if anyone else lived in this house, although it seemed empty by the looks of it.

"Here you go," he interrupted your thoughts, setting down a mug with hot tea. "I brought you ginger. I don't know if you like it or not," he said with a serious tone. "Oh, that's my favorite actually," you said, smiling awkwardly.

"Great. Careful, it's hot," he looked at you and gave you a half smile. You blushed a little and brought the mug to your mouth, taking a sip. "So, did you bring your novel?" he said, staring at you.

You tried to speak and swallow at the same time and ended up choking on your drink. You coughed for a few minutes as Alex stared at you, his face laced with concern.

"Erm.." he shifted so he could tap your back. "Try to look up. It should help," he said.

You followed his instructions and looked up at the ceiling, coughing. Your throat seemed to calm down.

"S-sorry," you barely managed to say. "No worries. You alright?" 

"Yes," you exhaled and took out the novel, handing it to him, trying to move past the awkward situation. "Thank you," he muttered.

He took your novel and opened it, setting it down on the desk. Your legs were only a few centimeters away from each other. You shifted slightly, not wanting to invade his personal space.

You realized he hadn't asked you to send him your novel and wondered if you had made a mistake. Perhaps you should have asked him about it.

"Um... should I have sent a digital copy of it to you?" you questioned. "No, it's quite alright. I prefer reading it in front of my clients," he said, his gaze not leaving the book.

You felt awkward, to say the least. It wasn’t pleasant having someone read your work right in front of you. Especially when you thought editors usually familiarize themselves with your work beforehand.

You fumbled with your fingers, unsure what to do with yourself. Bringing the hot mug to your lips, you took a few sips. Your eyes wandered around the room and settled on Alex. He looked like he was studying your work, wearing a serious expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

He looked handsome. When a few strands of hair fell on his face, he tucked them behind his ear. You felt your cheeks heat up and looked away before he could catch you staring. 

As you anxiously awaited his response, doubts clouded your mind about whether any of the sentences you wrote were coherent. You nervously retrieved your phone from your bag, feeling the clamminess on your palms. However, before you could reach out to a friend, he abruptly spoke up.

“S’good,” he looked up at you nodding. “Really? But you didn’t read that much.." you weren't sure what to say.

“I don’t need to. I can see that it’s straightforward and has a clear direction. It’s a bit wordy though and needs some work.” He added.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. He noticed you slumped a little and found it endearing. He had to remind himself of your age and sensitivity.

“But don’t fret. It’s nothing we can’t fix,” he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Right,” you smiled politely. You looked at him for a split-second and then glanced down at your hands.

“Well. I need to read the rest of your novel now. I only wanted to give you a clear picture of what we were gonna do in the upcoming weeks and how this works,” you nodded.

“For now we can meet once every two weeks and then see how your work progresses. Does Wednesday work for you, around this time?” “Uh-yes. I can do that.”

“Perfect. I want to recommend two books for you to read that could help you with your writing. Could you grab “On Writing”, by Stephen King from the bookshelf there?” he pointed to a book with a brown hardcover.

You stood up and spotted the book he was talking about. “This one?” you asked. “Yes. And also the “Bird by Bird” on your left.” You looked around but didn’t see the book he was talking about.

He stood up, approaching you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His hand reached out just above your head, and a tantalizing scent reached your nose. The subtle blend of cigarette smoke and lavender emerged from his clothing.

“That’s your right,” he said behind you, amused. “Oh, right,” you chuckled awkwardly.

He got back to his desk and handed you the book, your fingers grazing his.

“You don’t need to read these in over a week. This isn’t school,” he chuckled. “But they should help you improve and explore different methods of writing.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Turner,” you mumbled. “Oh, feel free to call me Alex,” he said. “Okay. Alex,” you replied.

You felt strange saying his name in such a casual manner. It felt like you were talking to a friend your age, not a 30 something year old accomplished editor and god knows what else.

“Oh uh, how do I pay for this?” “My secretary will contact you for that. The first session was meant for us to get acquainted and make sure that we are a good fit."

“Great,” you said.  “Alright.” He looked at you. “Right. Then I’ll be going. Thank you, again. It was nice meeting you,” you mumbled. 

“It was nice meeting you too,” he smiled and guided you to the door. You waved goodbye, and exited his house, the cold autumn air surrounding you. Well, now you really have an editor.

*

Alex didn't expect, well, you. He knew you were younger but god, were you a pretty little thing. His usual clients were a lot older and well, half of them were men.

He tried not to get carried away as his mind swirled with different thoughts about you. He didn't want to be creepy and he never wanted to give you that impression. So he tried his best to be professional.

But you were making it so hard. With your pouty lips and your fumbling hands every time you waited for a response from him. You wore these perfectly fitting tops that hugged your body. Occasionally when you moved around, the fabric would subtly reveal a glimpse of your midriff, making it impossible not to gawk at you. He thought you were simply adorable.

"So, how are your classes going? Anyone giving you trouble?" He asked, genuinely interested. "They're going well," you trailed off, sighing. 

"It's one of my professors. I don't think he likes me," you murmured. "Who?" he asked. 

"Professor Miller," you slumped a little. "Oh. Well I don't think he likes anyone if that makes you feel any better," you laughed. "No but seriously, what’s the problem?" he asked.

"I have the lowest grade in his class," you said, rolling your eyes, a little embarrassed to admit. "Grades aren't everything (Y/N). I've had my fair share of shitty grades too."

"What if I just suck though?" you asked, finding it unbelievable how comfortable you felt talking to him after knowing him only for a few weeks. "Nah. I would have dropped you by now," he teased you.

You gasped. “I’m only joking. You have a lot of potential,” he said, softly gazing into your eyes.

You smiled, feeling at ease.

"If you want I can help you with your assignments. Give you tips and such. Free of charge," he joked.

Both of you couldn't help but notice that your knees were touching but you felt comfortable staying close.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "Yeah. What else am I gonna do with my time?" he said. "Thanks," you said, feeling like this is beginning to border on inappropriate. But you didn't care.

"How about tomorrow, after your classes, you come by and we can see what we can do."

You nodded. "Okay. Sounds great." 

*

You had entranced him. He knew it was inappropriate. He was your editor, after all. And much older than you. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand the idea of any of these college guys having you. You were too good. Too sweet.

He wanted to be the one who owned you. He often imagined what it would be like to graze your delicate skin with his fingers. Make you shiver under his touch. Or how you mouth would feel around his coc-

"I hate writing!" you exclaimed, getting up from his couch and pacing around. You guys had moved from his office to his living room. He wanted you to feel comfortable.

He listened to you intently as you explained what you meant to convey in your latest pages. He could have easily done this over an email, but no, he had to see you. Your low voice, sweet like honey, reached his ears.

You sighed. "I don't know. I feel like I'm losing sight of my story. I have no idea what to do next." You said, biting your lip.

"Maybe you should leave it be," Alex replied.

"Huh?" you questioned.

"Well you've been working really hard at it lately. When was the last time you did something else you were passionate about?"

"I-," you paused, "I don't know," you mumbled, sitting down next to him again.

"See? You need to forget about it for a while. Create some distance."

You mulled over his words. "Is that what you do?"

"Course. Every artist does."

You looked at him like the world hung on his lips.

"Yeah. I can try that," you said, a worried expression on your face.

"No," he laughed. "Don't take this as another assignment. I mean really forget about it. Do something that doesn't make you think about writing."

You thought about it for a while and asked "Like what?"

He hesitated. "Well." Fuck it, he thought. "I have two tickets to the theater tonight," he raised his eyebrows slightly. "One of my friends canceled on me and you can join me if you want.”

His gaze met yours as you registered what he asked you. He looked at you, biting his lip, worrying if he had been too forward.

"What's the play about?" you asked, caving in. He tried to contain his smile and continued "It's ballet. The last swan lake."

"Oh, I've always wanted to see that," you said. "Great. We can meet in front of the theater at 7:30. That alright?" he asked. 

"Yeah. Sounds good," you replied, trying to contain your enthusiasm. "I'll see you later then."

*

As you were getting ready in your small bathroom, you couldn't help but feel nervous about tonight, butterflies swirling in your stomach. We can meet for a drink beforehand, if you want. My treat. He told you a few hours ago, wearing a shy smile.

You had reluctantly agreed. You wanted to spend time with him so badly but you felt like you were doing something wrong. You hadn’t even told Sophie yet.

You got dressed, slipping on your silky tights past your legs. You decided to wear a delicate black dress with long sleeves that exposed your plush thighs. Pairing it with your leather jacket and your red scarf, you slung your small handbag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave.

You decided to take your earphones with you and listen to music to calm your nerves.

When you arrived at the charming bar he had picked, you flung the door open and entered. lThe cozy ambience enveloped you as you stepped inside, a welcoming contrast to the crisp evening air outside.

Alex, already seated at a secluded corner table, looked up from his menu, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of you entering.

As you made your way towards him, the gentle flicker of candlelight played on the edges of his features. "You made it," he said, rising from his seat and pulling your chair out for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your cheeks rosy from the cold. You sat down, not knowing what to do with your hands or where to look. This felt strangely intimate.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked you.

“Uh. What are you getting?” you replied.

“Probably a beer.” He said.

“I guess I’ll get a glass of white wine then,” you replied, feeling somewhat awkward. You didn’t expect in a million years to have drinks with your editor.

“You sure? You can get anything you want. Like I said, it’s my treat.” He smiled.

“Thank you. Yeah I’m good,” you replied bashfully.

After the waiter brought your drinks you started delving into conversation.

"So, um, tell me more about yourself," Alex prompted, his gaze lingering on you.

You giggled, sipping your drink. "Well, there's not much to tell. Just a struggling student trying to make it out alive."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "From what I've seen, there's more than meets the eye."

You met his gaze, and the air shifted, charged with an unspoken tension. "You know, I never expected my editor to be someone who could make me forget about writer's block."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Maybe I'm just that good at my job."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between discussions of literature, shared interests, and personal anecdotes. As the night progressed, the topics ventured into more intimate territories, the subtle dance of words revealing layers beneath the surface.

"You have this way of making the mundane sound interesting," you remarked, now both on your second drink. You could feel your face heat up from the alcohol.

Alex leaned in, his gaze intense yet inviting. "Maybe it's the company that makes it interesting."

The words lingered in the air, a palpable tension settling between you. Unspoken desires sparked beneath the surface.

"Well, I find the company interesting too," you replied.

A hint of a smirk crossed Alex's face as he took a sip of his drink. "Careful now," he said. "Interesting company can be quite... distracting."

A subtle blush crept onto your cheeks. "Distracting can be a good thing." you replied.

"What are you distracting yourself from?" he asked, his gaze lingering on yours.

“I’m not sure. Everyone has problems, I guess,” you looked down at your hands.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked. 

“Wouldn’t want to bore you,” you chuckled. 

“You could never,” he replied, his tender eyes meeting yours. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you cleared your throat and looked at the time. “Oh, I think we should get going,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alex said and he gestured to the waiter for the bill. You thanked him for the drinks and promised you would return the favor next time you saw him. He agreed but knew he wouldn’t let you pay for anything, especially since you were just a student.

You had an amazing time seeing "Black Swan" at the theater. The ballet was captivating, and the music was incredible. You also noticed Alex glancing at you a few times throughout the show. 

After the show, Alex walked you to your cab. Under the streetlights, there was a quiet moment filled with something more than words. You exchanged a look that said it all, a shared understanding between you. As you got into the cab, Alex stood on the sidewalk with a thoughtful smile and waved goodbye.

When you arrived at your dorm, your phone vibrated. 

Did you get home safely? - Mr Turner. 

Your heart fluttered.

Yes.

Great. Good night. 

Night.

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you huddled into your bed and drifted off to sleep, embracing your pillow. The night ushered you into a world of dreams.

[atlasofearth]

ttpd anthology opinions except i have no thoughts that aren’t the marauders

the black dog: i expected it to give sirius vibes but this is way too much??? this is the most sirius song ive ever heard???

imgonnagetyouback: DORLENE’S SONG OH MY GOD. ITS THEIR SONG?????

the albatross: marlene’s anthem…. this is her song…. what the eff word….. i’m obsessed this might be my third fav song on the album

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: regulus … this song is so him oh my god i can’t do this

how did it end? : “you were blind to unforeseen circumstances” this song is soo canon compliant jegulus… i was writing a loml inspired one short but now i need to write one inspired by this 😶😶

so high school: the guitar 😻 this song is sooo sirius feeling like he could put his walls down around his friends (especially remus!!!!!!) im going insane!!! sirius feels so high school around remus guys

i hate it here : this song is so me… this song is mine guys what the fuck (also very regulus but.. it’s more me idc) i, too, hate it here and escape to secret gardens that i read about in books as a child in my mind and everyone wants the key but there’s only mine…

thank you aimee: IS THIS NOT LILY AND PETUNIAS RELATIONSHIP???? OH MY GOD????

i look in peoples windows: i love the instrumental omfg. i’m getting MAJOR death by a thousand cuts vibes?? she’s a genius?? this song is SO marylily. lily hoping she could find mary even after she left because she didn’t wanna fight “is it right to not know me” oh my god.

the prophecy: this is my number one song. i have many things to say. 1- so harry??? obviously. it’s literally his song. 2- remus WISHING he wasn’t a werewolf, this is his song. 3- lily yearning for peace for her son, wishing he wasn’t destined to live a terrible life. i feel so much guys. 4- also this song is so me. i relate so much, like so so much….

cassandra: oh this is sirius’ song.. he thought he was free after finally escaping grimmauld place, and thensuddenly james died and he’s in azkaban. omg wait but also regulus discovering the horcrux and dying before he had the chance to even find out there were others. “i was onto something, they all said nothing”

peter: IS THIS SONG NOT MARLENE/JAMES BEGGING FOR THEIR LIVES AFTER FINDING OUT PETER WAS THE TRAITOR RIGHT BEFORE THEY DIED???? she’s never beating the mskingbean allegations oh my god

the bolter: i don’t know why this song gives me INTENSE narcissa vibes. this is her song imo idk

robin: this is the black family anthem. this is their song, collectively

FINAL SONG, the manuscript: no marauders thoughts bc i related to this song too much and started crying! 😂

overall; i love these songs so much. i like this collection of songs more than the original ttpd (which says something bc that was AMAZING) top song is a definitely the prophecy

[sazeracs]

I’m sure someone else has beaten me to it, but here’s a translation of the ledger Andreas can find in the abbey library, with my translation notes – long post below the cut:

Mother Katharine, Prioress AD 1459[1]

Sister Hildegard, 16 years old Named Anna Gölderich, of Ravensburg. Proficient in Latin. Studious and obedient, with a soft, pious voice. 150 florins donated by her father. Additional 15 florins annually.

Mother Hildegard[2] AD March 1481

Sister Cecilia Daughter of the Welser family of Augsburg[3]. Named Adelheit. She is wise and learned in Latin and French. 200 florins given by the family before her arrival. Additional promise of 20 florins annually. AD August 1505

Sister Gertrude Named Metze[4] Huberyn, born in the Variscan Court[5]. Minimal proficiency in Latin. Kind and knowledgeable about herbal medicine. Most knowledge passed down by her father, an apothecary, who donated six florins to the monastery.

Sister[6] Matilda, 17 years old From Kempten[7], named Matilda. Moderately proficient in Latin. Calm, disciplined. Daughter of a Frisian merchant who donated ten florins and a large quantity of ultramarine pigment for the Scriptorium’s use. Mittenwald Ascetarium, May 1515 to September 1515[8]

Sister Illuminata Named Angelina, from the noble Capocci[9] family of Perugia, who were close to Abbot Rudolf[10]. Extremely learned in Latin as well as French and Germanic languages[11]. Restrained[12], sensible, and perceptive. The Capocci family donated 50 florins before her arrival, with an additional promise of 20 florins annually. 1507

Mother Cecilia, Prioress February AD 1510

Sister Sophia Born to the Hafner family in Birgitz. No knowledge of Latin but gentle and reverent. Parents are humble paupers. Three sacks of flour donated. AD 1512

Sister Lijsbet, 34 years old Born in Dutch Trecht[13], from the Hack Woutersen marriage[14]. Moderately proficient in Latin but proficient in Saxon. Hardworking and pious. Merchant parents. She has long been connected to Kiersau through her mother’s family, the Kaufmanns of Rothenburg ob der Tauer. They gave 12 florins, with an additional promise of two florins annually. AD 1514

Sister Margarete From the Auer family in Krimml. Mostly blind due to glaucoma. Can see colours. Moderately proficient in Latin. The daughter of wealthy peasants who each donated bags of wool and pastureland in Krimml. AD 1515

Sister Zdena The third daughter of the Rožmberk family of Tábor[15]. Very learned and proficient in Latin. The Rožmberks paid 100 florins before her arrival, with an additional promise of 30 florins annually.

---

[1] In the original text, the year is written as MCCCCLVIIII. Typically this would be written as MCDLIX, in accordance with subtractive notation (i.e. how we normally write Roman numerals), but there are historical examples of additive notation sometimes being used, for some reason – sometimes both would be used interchangeably in the same document, or even the same number.

[2] This entry likely documents Hildegard’s promotion as opposed to there being two Hildegards in the abbey, as there’s no other information included and the same is done for Sister, later Mother Cecilia below.

[3] The Latin here is originally pretty clunky and obscure (“Welser daughter of the Augsburg Vindelici”); Andreas explicitly mentions Cecilia’s family as well (and telegraphs other important information for the player this way). The Welsers were a German merchant family that rose to prominence in the 16th century as financiers for the Habsburgs along with another family, the Fuggers. They accumulated their wealth mainly through trade and the German colonisation of the Americas, including enslaved labour, so. Yikes!  The Vindelici were a Gallic people based in present-day Augsburg; I don’t actually know if the Welsers themselves were descended from them, but I’d assume so, given that the region is correct.

[4] Diminutive form of Mechthild.

[5] The contemporary name for Hof, believed at the time to be the seat of the Varisci/Narisci people.

[6] Sister Matilda is an oblate, as are Lijsbet and Magarete. Oblates aren’t professed monks or nuns, and so are technically part of the laity, but have associated themselves with a monastic community. They make formal promises – either annually or for life, depending on their affiliated monastery – to follow the Rule of the Order; as a result, they’re considered an extended part of the monastic community.

[7] I initially was stumped by this word and thought it referred to Matilda’s occupation in the abbey as cellarer, but then remembered Andreas reads she’s from Kempten, the old Latin name for which is, indeed, Cambodunum.

[8] Matilda’s age is either current in 1518, which would’ve meant she was 14 when Lorenz Rothvogel attacked her, or her record was retroactively updated to reflect her leave in 1515, making her 20+. Unfortunately, I think both are equally plausible, though being in her 20s would mean her relationship with Brother Wojslav, who imo appears to be older, has (slightly) less of an age gap.

[9] A quick search reveals the real-life Capocci were mostly associated with Viterbo, which is not Perugia lol.

[10] Another clunker originally.

[11] Theodiscus was the contemporary term referring to West Germanic languages; it comes from a Germanic adjective meaning ‘of the people.’ Since Latin was the language of science and religion, theodiscus was its opposite, i.e. the language spoken by the people.

[12] Retinēre very broadly means ‘to keep or hold back’ and so usually gets translated as either ‘to restrain’ or ‘to uphold.’ In describing a person, it can suggest any number of things: literally, physically restrained, or emotionally restrained, as in temperate or even repressed; someone who is steadfast and firm, or simply just is intelligent – as in, literally retains information well. Illuminata is all of these things, but I think ‘restrained’ suits her most compared to, say, tenacious.

[13] Utrecht. The city takes its name from the Roman fort Traiectum on the Rhine.

[14] Imma be real with you chief, other than Hack and Woutersen both being Dutch names, I have no fucking clue what this references – if anything – and I’ve found nothing that would help shed some light on it, either.

[15] The Rožmberk (Rosenberg) family was one of, if not the most powerful noble family in Bohemia from the 13th century until the early 17th century. Zdena is RICH rich, but her story is also pretty sad; it’s little wonder she’s Like That.

[vasito-de-leche]

I saw your post regarding the Self-Aware R1999!AU and it was good and mind-blowing! Now I'm wondering how will it go with 6 or 37 regaining consciousness, considering that they're always seeking for the "truth", and maybe the Reader's existence would heighten the quest for the truth more!

;R1999 37 - Self Aware AU

Headcanons about how 37 would act upon becoming self-aware. Related to this Self-Aware AU post.

I RECENTLY FINISHED 6'S ANECDOTE, SO NOW I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS THIS ASK IS A GREAT EXERCISE TO GET THE BRAIN GOING o7

this post only contains 37, since it got a little long and I didn't know how to format it the usual way because I LOVE rambling and rambling. I think there's another ask somewhere about 6 in the self-aware AU, so I'll get to that one soon!

also I think this post is impossible to read if you haven't read chapter 5 at least, bc I use a lot of the terms used in Apeiron!

37 is such an interesting character. Okay okay, bear with me for a bit while I get all of my 37 thoughts out of my brain!

I feel like people downplay how cruel or detached she can be. Because of her innate ability to see numbers in everyone and everything, essentially seeing "the truth" and being able to provide Proof to support her claims, 37 lives disconnected from her entire community while also being upheld as a genius and beacon of progress. She's the "Star of Hermes," after all.

A lot of her character focuses on this alienation and "othering," how her mindset and beliefs set her apart from others as she cannot understand the importance of soul numbers from an emotional standpoint--like she says in the main story, she's always known she's 37. Everyone's known this. And she does not understand the importance of knowing WHY she's 37. She doesn't care about the traits assigned to each number, that is meaningless rhetoric to her, what matters is the final result. She's 37, and that's it. She upholds the purity of numbers, practically worships this pure aspect of the world of Forms. She's at her happiest when she talks about how numbers will always be numbers, no matter who tries to figure them out, or when or how.

And we also see the cruel aspect of her that I believe people overlook--37 admits that she enjoys revealing people's numbers because she wants to be the first to prove this truth. It's only near the end of Chapter 05 that she wonders, if only briefly, whether being the first to prove someone's number means that she knew the truth better. Other than that, she has absolutely NO trouble revealing Vertin's number, nor attempting to tell Sophia her own number as kids--and 37, while she does not care for the rhetoric of numbers and their assigned virtues, knows how much the journey of self-discovery means to her entire community. And she still chose to do this, because she does not see the value in the process.

This isn't to say that she's exclusively a cruel character nor a misguided little baby, I would say that she's cruel the same way a child can be--37 is a very lovely and complex character! I just think people take her cute appearance at face value and forget the extent of her abilities and her perception of the world.

In the context of a Self-Aware AU, I believe that this self-awareness would be recontextualized as yet another eternal truth for her. Her curiosity wouldn't be applied to this, because there is nothing to figure out--the world has always been a game, that's it. Instead of focusing on the emotional or existential aspects, 37 would focus instead on the "guidelines" that rule this fake world.

It would revolve around the mechanical aspects: she understands that every fight follows a set pattern, as this is a turn based combat game. She wants to know why some people stand out, why they're assigned as 6 or 5 or 4 or 3 or 2 stars. Why not a 1 star? Why not 10? Why this system in particular? Why doesn't Sophia have any stars? Is it because she hasn't figured out her number yet? No, that can't be, because 210 also lacks stars. And so on and so forth.

The focus will still be numbers, so she would be the perfect assistant for Players who care a lot about meta!

I'm also willing to say that 37 would be one of the very few characters who has no trouble at all coping with the fact that she's a character in a videogame. To know that she's a bunch of "code" wouldn't change a thing for her, because she was already 37 in the first place!

There is also the aspect of finding out that her mother's death (as well as Sophia's father) was scripted. I'm going on a long tangent here, so bear with me for a second.

I feel like... 37 would see that as a positive thing? First of all, we know that the death of everyone in that boat was caused because of a miscalculation from Sophia and 37's part, which is the catalyst for 37's Emanation research. I do believe that, even though 37 shows little to no (conventional) emotion in that specific moment, she still grieves and mourns in her own way--and the way she does that is by clinging onto the one thing that is left of her mother: her pneuma analysis and research, the computer that stopped working, the pattern of the "Storm". We are told that 37 became a recluse, isolating herself even more from her community, when her and her mother's research was proven to be wrong, that she only came out of her lab when Vertin and her team arrived. We see her muttering while unconscious in the cave with Vertin, calling out for her own mother and telling her that their research wasn't wrong, that they were right all along (because they were missing one vital piece of information that only an outsider like Vertin could deliver).

Second of all, we know that 37 does not understand nor care about fate, she does not care for wordplay that muddies the true essence of numbers. So she would not think that the death of all those people can be attributed to something as vague and nonsensical as "fate."

Third and final point of this tangent, 37 does not like to be proven wrong. Or rather, 6's character event shows us that, no matter what she's told or how she behaves, 37 will always believe that she's in the right.

With all of this in mind, I think that finding out that this accident was something scripted--that is to say, part of the "truth" (or canon, from our perspective) of this world--would reinforce 37's beliefs. This miscalculation was a mistake born from her former self, the 37 that did not truly understand the world, before she achieved self-awareness. And now that she's wide awake, there's no way that she could ever make a mistake like that ever again. If else, I can see her being mildly irritated that it took her this long to open her eyes, struggling with the fact that she's not the first person to become self-aware. And just like she casually reveals other people's numbers, she would dangle the knowledge of self-awareness in front of others instead of keeping it secret.

On the subject of finding out about the Player, I'm not quite sure how 37 would react. Sure, 37's life is ruled by the same dogma that rules everyone else within Apeiron, but her approach is devoid of that same spiritual and religious devotion that others like 210 carry. Like we see in 6's character event, 37 does not care about the importance of the number 6 nor whoever holds the title, because the "truth" is that everyone within that bloodline is going to inherit the title at some point or another. Compare this to 210, who treats the previous 6 (Atticus' aunt, Alma) with such reverence.

So perhaps that's how 37 would act, then? This "divine" figure is yet another 6 for her, someone who has all relevant knowledge, nothing more and nothing less.

I like to think that 37 is able to see the Player very clearly right away, the same way she can see people's numbers, whereas 6 is the one who can hear them clearly, the same way he inherits the Revelation from his ancestors.

And unless you're another super math genius like her, I can absolutely see 37 pouting about it. How come someone like you gets to be "outside" in the world of Forms? Maybe she becomes curious about finding "proof" of your world, to confirm whether you live in the world of Forms or something else entirely, perhaps yet another world of Matters, full of Fragments. Realizing that the world the Player lives in is practically identical to her own--minus the existence of integers and fractions, just a world full of imaginary numbers--would be a curious experience for 37.

I can also see 37 telling Vertin the Player's own soul number the moment she figures it out, perhaps as a way to repay the favour for the events of Chapter 05. Assuming she survives that bomb, I actually don't know what happens in Chapter 06 LMFAO....

Long story short, not many would realize that 37 has become self-aware, since her behaviour remains largely the same. And it wouldn't affect her as deeply as it affects other characters.

[lokiondisneyplus]

Potential spoilers below the cut, but a super interesting article.

Some non-spoiler pull quotes:

Tom is my producing partner in a true sense. Before we had any writers or directors, it was Tom and I for months building this story out. We had a 30-page document that was like, This is what the show is: TVA, He Who Remains — even Victor Timely was in that first document years ago. And it’s just carried through. -- This is maybe — not maybe — this is the first Marvel series to never have any additional photography. The story that is on screen is the story we set out to make. -- We were casting, and “Everything Everywhere All at Once” was playing in L.A. and in New York, but it hadn’t gone nationwide yet. I think it was going the very next week. We had gotten a call from our casting director who said, “Hey, I’m about to put together a list for OB — just initial thoughts. But before I do that, I really think you guys should meet Ke, and I think it should be Ke. I think you guys should meet with him quick, because probably by Monday, he’s going to have a lot of offers for different things.”

Of the eight live-action TV shows that Marvel Studios has produced for Disney+ to date, only one has concluded with the explicit promise of a second season: That would be “Loki,” the outrageously entertaining series about Tom Hiddleston’s god of mischief and his metaphysical exploits in the Time Variance Authority.

It turns out, those plans were already in the works before a second of “Loki” had ever streamed. As executive producer Kevin Wright explains to Variety, he and Hiddleston began talking about Season 2 of the show while in production on the third episode of Season 1.

“As we were shooting the ‘Lamentis’ episode, Tom and I started having lots of conversations about how this world could build out, how we dive deeper into it,” he says. “A large part of what we wanted to do was not trying to repeat ourselves, and not try to play the hits.” At the same time, he adds, they also wanted to make sure didn’t start Season 2 by “fast-forwarding through the drama” of the Season 1 finale. 

And so much happened in that finale. To recap: Loki and his variant-turned-potential-soulmate Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) arrive at the end of time, where they meet the creator of the TVA, He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors) — the variant of the supervillain Kang who won a massive multiversal war. To prevent future Kangs from emerging, He Who Remains has used the TVA to maintain a single, sacred timeline — pruning away trillions of potential lives in the process. He gives Sylvie and Loki an impossible choice: Replace him as the head of the TVA, or kill him and bring forth an infinite number of Kangs.

Loki wants the first option; Sylvie wants the second. She wins, kills He Who Remains, and boots Loki back to an alternate version of the TVA, where previous compatriots Mobius (Owen Wilson) and Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku) don’t remember ever meeting him.

Variety has screened the first four (of six) episodes of “Loki,” and without spoiling anything, Season 2 picks up pretty much exactly where the first season left off — before then charting its own storytelling path. The full cast has returned, including Gugu Mbatha-Raw as former TVA judge Ravonna Renslayer and Eugene Cordero as TVA functionary Casey. And Majors returns as well as He Who Remains, in addition to another Kang variant, a 19th century inventor named Victor Timely. They’re joined by new actors including Kate Dickie (“Game of Thrones”), Rafael Casal (“Blindspotting”) and recent Oscar-winner Ke Huy Quan as TVA technician Ouroboros, aka “OB.”

Behind the scenes, there have been some changes from Season 1. The series’ original director Kate Herron and head writer Michael Waldron both stepped back to focus on other projects. In their places, “Moon Knight’s” Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead have stepped in as lead directors, and Season 1 writer Eric Martin stepped up as head writer for Season 2.

To delve into the second season of “Loki,” Wright talked with Variety about casting Quan just before his performance in the multiverse spectacular “Everything Everywhere All at Once” changed the actor’s life forever; what the future of “Loki” the show and Loki the character might be following Season 2; and how Majors’ arrest in March for assault did (or did not) affect their plans for Season 2.

What were the discussions like about how to approach Season 2?

I think we had to just keep reminding ourselves that the TVA is a great world, let’s live in the drama of what we’re creating there. Which means not fast-forwarding through the drama that they just decided to stop pruning timelines, but also staying in the emotional turmoil that Loki and Sylvie are coming into this season with.

Also, there were certain things in Season 1 that felt like they were maybe a risk, and we didn’t know how the audience would respond. Once we realized that they embraced it, it felt like a lot of freedom to go further.

What did you feel was a risk?

In a very early draft of the script that Michael Waldron had written, that first Time Theater conversation between Mobius and Loki was maybe a couple of pages. And then a lot of other big Marvel-y action things happened afterwards, and we all went, “That’s not the interesting stuff. This Time Theater conversation is interesting. That’s what the show could be.” If we are really diving into the character-driven philosophy and introspection of self, that’s quite different than the last 10 years of Marvel movies. Would the audience follow us along on that? 

Tom Hiddleston famously held seminars on the character of Loki for Season 1. Did he do anything like that for Season 2?

No, because we tried to bring back as much crew as we could from Season 1. It was largely the same team. Obviously, we went from Atlanta to London [for production], but a lot of our department heads carried over, so there was an institutional knowledge that was built in. And Tom is my producing partner in a true sense. Before we had any writers or directors, it was Tom and I for months building this story out. We had a 30-page document that was like, This is what the show is: TVA, He Who Remains — even Victor Timely was in that first document years ago. And it’s just carried through.

So even as Kate Herron kind of handed the reins over at the end of Season 1, there is an institutional knowledge that comes with us being the glue between the seasons.

You mentioned He Who Remains and Victor Timely. You finished shooting Season 2 in 2022, but did Jonathan Majors’ arrest for assault in March resulted in any changes to the show? 

No. This is maybe — not maybe — this is the first Marvel series to never have any additional photography. The story that is on screen is the story we set out to make. We went out there with a very specific idea of what we wanted this to be, and we found a way to tell it in that production period. It’s very much what’s on screen on Disney+.

It’s clear that Majors plays an integral role this season, and you just alluded that Marvel usually does additional photography on all its titles. So was there any discussion about making changes to the show, given the uncertainty about what was happening with Majors?

No. And that mainly came from — I know as much as you do at the moment. It felt hasty to do anything without knowing how all of this plays out.

How early into the writing of Season 2 did you decide to cast Ke Huy Quan as OB?

We were in London, so I had at least some version of our scripts. The way the process works, they’re always being rewritten, but OB was in there, and his introduction scene was almost exactly as originally written. I would like to say it was in early spring, which was maybe just two months before we started shooting. We were casting, and “Everything Everywhere All at Once” was playing in L.A. and in New York, but it hadn’t gone nationwide yet. I think it was going the very next week. We had gotten a call from our casting director who said, “Hey, I’m about to put together a list for OB — just initial thoughts. But before I do that, I really think you guys should meet Ke, and I think it should be Ke. I think you guys should meet with him quick, because probably by Monday, he’s going to have a lot of offers for different things.”

So that that Friday, myself, Justin and Aaron, two of our directors, had gotten on a Zoom with Ke. We pitched him the show and this character. We shared that introduction scene with him and maybe the full script. And then we called in the big guns that Monday; Kevin Feige got on the phone with him and said, “Ke, I know you read the script. I know you talked to the guys. We really think you should do this. I really want you to join the Marvel family.” And he had already made up his mind over the weekend. It was like, “I’m there. I’ve been a huge fan of this for a long time.”

In Season 1, the show explored several time periods and locations outside the TVA, but in the first four episodes of this season, you stick to just 1880s Chicago, 1970s London and 1980s in the Midwest. How did you come to that decision to focus more on the TVA and building out its history?

Because that felt like where so much of our core character conflict was going to come from. There was so much intersectionality of our characters and what they think of the TVA. Sylvie wants to burn it down because the apple is rotten, as she says. Loki sees it as potentially the only form of defense against whatever else is coming in a war with Kang. Mobius and B-15, they’ve dedicated their whole life to it. They’re not quite ready to give it up. Renslayer feels like she’s been keeping it together, and you get a real understanding of why she thinks she should be the one to get this thing back on track.

We want everybody to be in the gray area — they’re neither good nor bad. They might make bad choices or heroic choices, but they are trying to figure out who they are. The TVA felt like the place where we could maximize that storytelling and learn more about those characters through that. But also stay tuned, because we are going to more places [in Episodes 5 and 6].

Do you think the TVA could start to appear in other titles in the MCU?

I would love that. Look, I’ve been siloed in on “Loki” for almost five years now, by the time this show finishes, and with every filmmaker who has put their hands on the show, we’ve all had the same conversations: It feels like the TVA could really be this exciting connective tool for all of this storytelling. And we’ve only seen a fraction of it. We’re dealing very specifically with this one smaller department with Mobius and B-15 and Renslayer, but you look out at those vistas — this place is infinite. The exciting thing to us is there certainly are more stories to be told there. We’ve carved out our own little corner of the sandbox and built something cool. We’re hoping that other people want to come and play with it.

One of the things I’ve most enjoyed about “Loki” is how it’s telling its own story, but have you considered bringing more of the MCU into it?

Yes, in both seasons of writers’ rooms. It always felt wrong to go too far outside of the box of things that would directly contribute to Loki’s character arc in these two seasons. So that’s why we get [Jaimie Alexander as] Sif in there [in Season 1], we play with the variants in the void and various levels of Asgard-specific storytelling. But while we’ve had nearly 12 hours of storytelling, it never feels like we have enough time. Eventually, just handling the stories of our ensemble and not shortchanging them has always been priority number one.

Now, Season 1 and 2 were always built to be two chapters of the same book. The hope would be going forward, there are more books that we can tell these stories with. I certainly think that we could start doing that.

Would there be a Season 3 of “Loki”? Is the future of the show finite or more open-ended?

I think it’s open-ended. We certainly did not develop this season going, “We have to tee up Season 3” — in the way that we did with Season 1, where there was a very specific, “Hey, we’re coming back.” But I also think that where this show goes, there certainly can be many, many, many more stories told with Loki in the “Loki” world, and in other worlds connected to Loki, the character.

Do you think Loki would ever rejoin the larger world of the MCU? 

That’s the hope. I don’t want to — yeah. I think the the sun shining on Loki and Thor once again has always been the priority of the story we’re telling. But for that meeting to really be fulfilling, we have to get Loki to a certain place emotionally. I think that’s been the goal of these two seasons.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

[bethanydelleman]

Jane Austen Charted #15

How Wealthy are the Jane Austen Heroines?

(This turned into a long post)

Women in Jane Austen’s novels have two kinds of wealth, fortunes which seem to be guaranteed to already accompany them into marriage, like Emma’s 30k or Elinor & Marianne Dashwoods’ 1k which they have already received from their uncle, and then eventual inheritance, like Elizabeth’s 1k that she will receive after the death of both of her parents. Here are the sums:

And the explanation of each amount:

Anne Elliot’s amount is disputed because of how the text is worded, she is either getting 10,000 or 1/3 of that amount. Here is the quote: who could give his daughter at present but a small part of the share of ten thousand pounds which must be hers hereafter. (Ch 24) It will be paid upon her father’s death.

As to the amount, I usually think it’s 1/3 of 10k. Knowing Sir Walter’s character, and that his wife was not a trade heiress but the daughter of a country gentleman, I think Lady Elliot’s dowry being ten thousand, and Sir Walter never adding to it seems pretty likely. He probably assumed that his children would marry well based on beauty and rank alone.

As for Emma, we don’t know what is going to happen to Hartfield. The fact that John Knightley has a job and isn’t just living off Isabella’s fortune until they inherit makes me think it might be going to Emma (as opposed to how Mary and Charles Musgrove are living), but that is speculation and may also be based in a difference in personality. It is equally possible that the plan was for Spinster Emma to live there with John and Isabella. Also, Emma is counting on her sister’s eldest son to inherit Donwell, not Hartfield, which is another clue that it’s going to Emma, not Isabella.

It seems to me that the best marriage prospects would be those who have a fortune now, not when their parents die. Certainly with men, those who are the most eligible have already come into their fortunes. 

Also, the Dashwoods and Anne Elliot are in a far safer financial position if their remaining parent dies, as they have a decent, though not large income on their own. The three Dashwood sisters could continue to live at Barton cottage and maintain themselves if they worked together.

So how do the heroines compare to other ladies:

The richest two women are Anne de Bourgh, who will inherit Rosings, and Sophia Grey, the future Mrs. Willoughby. Given that Mrs. Jennings, who is from trade, knows Sophia’s relations, we can assume that Sophia is a trade heiress. Depending on what Emma Woodhouse receives when her father dies, she may be as wealthy as both of them.

From the novels, the breakdown of fortune attractiveness:

Nothing - Nothing is bad. However, I have a strong suspicion that this can mean actually nothing or something like Jane Fairfax with a few hundred pounds. Lucy Steele and Isabella Thorpe probably have actually nothing, but I doubt Mary Crawford when she says her friend who married a peer actually had zero pounds to her name. Miss Ross probably had nothing in comparison to Mary.

£1000 - Pretty much as bad as nothing. This isn’t enough for someone to maintain themselves in gentility. The Bennet sisters could pool their money and maybe be okay with their combined £250.

£3000 - Interesting that so many heroines have this amount. It seems like it’s a decent, but not great dowry. Respectable.

£10,000 - This number comes up A LOT in Jane Austen’s novels. We are told in Mansfield Park: Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park... her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. From this statement and context from the other novels, 10k seems like the basic “good” fortune. Minimum entry to expect an eldest son match.

£20,000 - This is a big fortune, go after a Mr. Darcy or a Tom Bertram the future baronet kind of money. I don’t get the impression that either Caroline Bingley or Mary Crawford are supposed to be seen as delusional for thinking they can marry where they aim for. It’s more about the guy not liking them than unrealistic expectations. 

£30,000 + Filthy rich

Also, I really wish we knew more fortune numbers! What did Lady Middleton and Mrs. Palmer have? What was an acceptable dowry for a Miss Bertram? (my guess is at least 10k) What did Charlotte Lucas have? (I suspect not much better than Elizabeth, if not worse) 

[coochiequeens]

Protecting children from pedos is now “Puritan sex negativity” according to a pedo transwoman .

Berkeley Police allowed a suspected pedophile to walk away from a sting conducted by predator hunters despite being shown evidence that he had been expressing interest in molesting multiple children, including an infant.

On August 20, anti-pedophile vigilante group Predator Poachers uploaded footage of a sting they conducted in Berkeley, California to YouTube involving a trans-identified male who had been purportedly seeking to meet a 9-year-old for the purposes of sexually abusing her.

The girl was in fact a decoy established by the group as part of a months-long investigation into the man, who went by the name Sophia Westfall.

Speaking to Reduxx, predator hunter Alex Rosen says Westfall first contacted the decoy’s Instagram account in April, and soon after began initiating sexual conversations with the child.

Rosen is a full-time anti-pedophile vigilante, and he and his small team have traveled across the United States conducting stings on predators since 2019. Ample evidence is gathered prior to a confrontation, and police are then called.

Rosen told Reduxx that the sting uploaded on the 20th had actually been conducted on June 7 when he and his team were in California. 

“Sophia was one of the reasons we were in California but we actually had multiple suspects in the state,” he explained, noting that Sophia had been picked up by two different decoys on two different platforms — Instagram and Telegram. Rosen says both decoy accounts had been populated using altered and AI-generated photos.

Rosen provided Reduxx a number of screenshots belonging to conversations Westfall had with the decoy. Westfall tells the girl that he masturbates to thoughts about her, and suggests a number of ways he wants to molest her.

“I’m thinking of other things too, but maybe tickles too,” Westfell wrote in one message, “Kisses and touches all over. Kisses between your legs especially!”

Disturbingly, Westfall suggested that he wanted to sexually abuse the girl’s 6-year-old sister, saying “well, you know I love young girls. I’m just excited thinking how fun it could be to play in bed with both of you!”

The decoy then advised Westfall she also had a 1 year old sibling, stating “

she’s probably too young” for sexual activity, to which Westfall replied: “That doesn’t bother me. Never too young to start learning!”

While Westfall would ultimately establish a meet up with the decoy purporting to be 9-years-old, he also communicated with a separate one of Rosen’s decoys on encrypted chat service Telegram. That decoy was also intended to be a 9-year-old girl.

“He sent some very illegal stuff to our decoy on Telegram,” Rosen says, noting that it included extreme child sexual abuse material appearing to show very young children being sexually assaulted. Westfall also gave suggestions to that 9-year-old decoy on how to pleasure male genitals.

“Some people like stroking a hand up and down over it… or you can wrap your mouth around the tip and lick or suck,” Westfall says, continuing: “It can absolutely be exciting.”

The filmed confrontation took place at Strawberry Creek Park in Berkeley, where Westfall thought he would be meeting with the 9-year-old he had been interacting with on Instagram. Instead, Rosen and his team showed up with a bundle of evidence they had printed off.

In the dramatic video Rosen uploaded to YouTube on the 20th, Westfall is seen wearing knee-high-boots, a skirt, a pink top and a hat littered with trans pride flag buttons. He immediately attempts to walk away from Rosen when he is confronted, and is even defended by unknowing locals in the park who believe he is in need of assistance. 

Westfall continuously says “leave me alone,” and “I don’t want to talk to you,” while hiding his face behind a medical mask. He refuses to answer any of Rosen’s questions, and simply paces across the park repeatedly.

At one point, the police show up — apparently called by bystanders who believed Rosen was harassing an innocent individual. 

Rosen is seen trying to show police his bundle of evidence, and explains to multiple officers what his investigation had uncovered. But, disturbingly, police do not detain Westfall, and allow him to leave the park — which is full of children — without resistance. 

Rosen tells Reduxx he was shocked by that decision.

“Based on what we showed them … It should have been an instant arrest. Especially with the lewd [images] he had sent. I have never had a predator who was trying to molest a 1-year-old, and unfortunately there have been a few, that was not arrested on the spot.” Rosen says, “[Police] said they needed to gather more evidence and check with the District Attorney. But a place like Berkeley, like New York City, they are known for not locking up criminals.”

Predator Poachers, Rosen’s team of anti-pedophile vigilantes, says they had calculated for a poor police response due to the location of the sting, but they had still been confident an arrest was going to be made because the evidence was damning. 

“I was well-aware that I was doing this catch in Berkeley, and I knew what that meant for cop response. But I thought even then… this is just too bad that cops are going to make an arrest. I was that confident. Especially with [the suspect] sending my decoy child sexual abuse material. But I was wrong, sadly.”

Rosen also notes that Police had expressed frustration with him when he “misgendered” the suspect.

Predator Poachers has successfully initiated arrests in multiple states, and that 80% of the other suspects he had confronted in California had been arrested the day of his stings or in the days after he spoke to police, but Westfall still has not been charged with any crime.

“This person said they wanted to molest a 1-year-old. They sent child sexual abuse material on Telegram. There was horrific, horrific sh*t. All I can say is, we’ve gotten people arrested for a lot less.”

Reduxx reached out to the Berkeley Police Department, which did confirm it had an open case number related to the incident, and suggested the matter was still under investigation.

While Westfall deleted the Instagram profile he used to contact the 9-year-old decoy, he has an additional account on the platform. While it is now defunct, the profile was primarily focused on taking photos of women in public without their consent.

Westfall often placed extremely sexual captions beside the stealth images, and even featured photos of what appeared to be young girls he had taken.

On Twitter, Westfall is still active and posting. Amongst retweets of pornography, Westfall engages with trans activists and sometimes speaks on trans-related issues. The day after the sting, Westfall retweeted a post arguing it was “puritan sex negativity” to try and argue “drag and queerness” wasn’t inherently sexual.

His profile features a link to a defunct WordPress blog he maintained titled SaphikoSophia. 

In 2015, Westfall made a post to the blog in which he praised a book titled The Perils of Protecting Children from Sex.

[ejzah]

A/N: Here’s my little Whumptober offering for this year. As usual, I’ve gone with a light topic for this one. Takes place post series finale. For the purpose of this story, both Kensi and Deeks have retired from NCIS and fieldwork.

***

No Matter How Far You Run, We’ll Draw You Back Again

“Well, first we’re going to change your diapers, then mommy’s going to feed you, and then we’re going to go for a walk. And, if we’re lucky, sissy is going to come for dinner,” Deeks explained as he secured the sides of Caleb’s diaper. “What do you think we should have?” He directed this question at Sophia, who was kicking away in the little bassinet attached to the side of the changing table.

“Ha!” she exclaimed in response.

“I agree,” Deeks said conversationally. “Potatoes would be nice.”

“Ooh, what gourmet dishes are we planning?” Kensi asked, coming up behind him, and resting her chin on his shoulder as she looked down on the twins.

“Mmmmaaaa,” Caleb cooed, excitedly waving his hand in Kensi’s direction.

“Hi sweetie.” Kensi closed her fingers around his fist, shaking it hard enough to make him giggle. She turned to Sophia then, kissing her tones, and the little girl let out a truly impressive string of sounds.

“And there we go,” Deeks announced, hefting a baby under each arm, and spun them in half circles, resulting in another round of giggles. When they were done, he unlatched Caleb’s sharp little nails from his t-shirt, presenting him to Kensi with a flourish. “Two squeaky clean kiddos, which will last for approximately 1-3 hours.”

“Thanks, baby. “Next round is on me,” Kensi said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “So, what are we having for dinner?”

“Well, Caleb has some interesting ideas about coq au vin, but I’m not sure we have time for it.”

“You’re quite the chef,” Kensi told Caleb, going along with the joke.

“Baaaa,” Caleb replied, determinedly tugging at the front of Kensi’s shirt.

“And of course, you’re hungry again.” She sighed good-naturedly, adjusting her top so Caleb could nurse.

Balancing Sophia in one arm, rocking back and forth. Just the other day, she’d figured out how to clap, and had been entertaining herself with the new skill whenever it struck her fancy. Right now she kept an enthusiastic, if uneven beat to Deeks’ rhythm.

“You want me to watch this one, or start on dinner?” he asked Kensi.

“Dinner,” Kensi replied without a second thought. “I can handle these two.”

“All right.” He turned Sophia to face him, giving her a mock scowl. “No prison breaks, you hear me missy?” She giggled at his expression, tugging at his beard with her little fingers.

***

Deeks had just gotten started on cutting up some veggies, when his phone buzzed in his pocket with an incoming call. He checked the number, didn’t recognize it, and resumed his previous task, dumping a pile of diced potatoes, onions, and peppers into a pan.

His phone started ringing again less than a minute later with the same number. Frowning, he accepted the call.

“Hi, this is Marty,” he answered cautiously.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Deeks, this is the Director of the FBI along with NCIS Director Leon Vance,” a smooth male voice responded. “I was hoping you’d have some time to talk.”

“Um, honestly, I was just about to start dinner,” Deeks answered, falling on humor to cover his surprise. These days the number of calls he got from any federal agency aside from the IRS was minimal.

“We’ll try not to keep you too long. I know you have a family waiting for you,” Director Vance spoke up, clearing his throat pointedly.

“Of course,” the FBI director agreed, appeasing Vance, Deeks thought. “Well, to get straight to the point, our agency has been following a human trafficking ring for the last year. This particular ring has grown over the years, but it’s come to a head recently.”

Deeks felt his stomach clench unpleasantly at the mention of trafficking. In all his years in law enforcement, dealing with those cases had been some of the very worst.

“We’ve attempted to infiltrate this ring many times, with subpar results,” the director continued on, oblivious to Deeks’ inner turmoil. “Unfortunately, time is not on our side. We recently received a tip that several hundred children and women are being transported in the next few weeks. That’s when your name came up.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little more explicit, Sir,” Deeks said, even though he was certain where this conversation was heading.

“Former Deputy Director Ochoa mentioned you’re skilled in undercover work, and a review of your history with NCIS confirmed that to be true. I think you’d be perfect for this job.”

“You do recall the part where I have six month old twins at home, right?” Deeks asked facetiously. He didn’t think for a moment that the Director hadn’t completely vetted him and combed through his and Kensi’s lives meticulously. A bitter feeling settled heavily in his stomach at the thought. “Not to mention I retired from active fieldwork last year.”

“Yes, we’re aware,” Vance said, sounding strained and maybe a touch irritated. Deeks wondered how much say he’d had in this entire venture. If the FBI had gone over his head to ensure his cooperation.

Deeks had expected the topic of fieldwork to be officially shelved, not to be on the receiving end of a call from the directors of NCIS and the FBI asking him to return for what sounded like a highly dangerous mission.

“Yes, yes, my belated congratulations to you and Agent Blye,” the FBI director added on hastily. “Though I’m sure they could spare you for a few weeks for a good cause.”

“With all due respect, why not use another, active agent? There’s half a dozen that come to mind right now.” He didn’t envy anyone who was tasked with the job.

“Your persona, Max Gentry, would be a perfect fit for this role,” the Director explained, and Deeks’ lip curled at the mention of an alias he’d come to hate. “And, to be perfectly honest, you’re the best agent for the job. You fit the profile, you have the skills, and you know to speak to these kinds of people. After reading through your file, I don’t know that I’ve seen a better operator when it comes to undercover roles. It’s truly impressive.”

“You can cut down on the flattery, Director,” Deeks said, now without any politeness. “I know my talents. I was good at my job. When it was my job. Now I’m a father, husband, and lawyer and I’d like to think I’m pretty fantastic at those too. I’m not prepared to jeopardize any of that.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone, and Deeks wondered if he’d stunned the Director by not immediately capitulating.

“I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation. These are children, like your twins. Imagine someone taking them in a few years. Or your wife,” the Director pressed, his tone telling Deeks he knew exactly what he was doing. Deeks flinched at the mention of the twins and Kensi. “You’ve dealt with this before. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep knowing that these kids are out there, being sold and abused? That they may never see their families again?”

Deeks clenched his jaw, beyond angry at the blatant manipulation, and even more so that the Director was right. When there were kids involved, hell when there was anyone vulnerable being mistreated, he found it hard to stand idly by.

“I’m going to need more details before I commit to anything,” Deeks decided reluctantly. He hated himself for giving, almost as much as he was quickly growing to dislike the Director.

“Of course, Investigator.” He could almost hear the SECNAV’s satisfaction through the phone.

“Let me be perfectly clear; I still don’t like this. My priority is my family and if I don’t think that your operation is sound and capable of actually shutting down this trafficking ring as well as saving the victims, then I will not be a part of it,” Deeks said firmly. “I won’t be used as a pawn in some game or to gain you a gold star.”

“We understand,” Vance replied before the Director could. “I think that’s a perfectly reasonable request given the importance of the case. Rest assured that I will be involved every step of the way should you decide to assist us.”

“Yes, we appreciate that, Leon,” the Director replied, not sounding too pleased by at all. “We’ll expect your decision in two days, Deeks.”

“Right. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late and I have a hungry family waiting.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule,” Vance said, and he actually sounded like he meant it. “Tell Ms. Blye hello for me.”

“Sure thing.” A moment later, the call was over, and Deeks carelessly set his phone to the side. Turning to face the counter, he braced his elbows on the surface, burying his face in his hands.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

***

A/N: I couldn’t confirm who the current NCIS director is, so I just went with Vance before I went crazy searching for answers. Part 2 to follow.

[remarcely]

I didn't like Sylvie in S1, mostly because of the whole sylki thing, but S2 has made me her number 1 defender.

It blows my mind that people watched the show and went away with 'wow, Sylvie's a bitch' because it just reeks of misogyny and not having the capacity to understand a complex character.

Sylvie, since the age of 10-ish, has been fleeing a constant threat to her existence and grew up in apocalypses. She couldn't have anything permanent other than herself because she has to keep moving and anything she leaves behind is destroyed. No friends, no family, and no universe of her own.

Then she gets put in a room with the one guy who ruined her entire life and countless others, of course she's going to be determined to kill him. She started as a scared child, it makes sense that she became and angry adult. Nothing, not even Loki begging her, could stop He Who Remain(ed)s death.

And lets be honest he deserved it.

Then in the finale, she watches a variant of herself and a friend she faced hell along side sentence himself to an eternity of sitting on a throne, holding the multiverse in place. Loki gave everyone a chance to live and, most importantly, a choice. To stay at the TVA or go home. Verity (Hunter B-15) and Frank (Casey) chose to stay, Mobius found it too difficult without Loki and left, and Sylvie's choice was obvious.

It's unfair to be angry at her for showing happiness in the finale. Time has clearly passed since Loki left, though we're not shown how much, of course she's managed to move on. I don't see anyone pissed off at B-15 for continuing with their life? What about Casey or Ouroboros?

Also, we saw Sylvie's face as Loki made his sacrifice.

Does she look happy to you?

That is a face of horror and distress as she watches yet another person in her life essentially give up his freedom while she survives.

Do you ever think about the survivors guilt Sylvie has? That in all of the apocalypses she hid in, she saw men, women, and children be killed knowing she technically could save them but it would make them a variant and doom them further. That she is the only one from her own universe that wasn't reset, making her the lone survivor of her world?

Even with the infinite possibility for the future multiverse, those worlds will have their own Sylvie. There's no place for her there, so she has to make her own somewhere else.

From the end of Season 1 to most of Season 2, Sylvie has been fighting for the chance to live a normal life. When she gets it, through such suffering and loss, is she really supposed to be miserable forever because one person is gone? She quite literally got the only thing she's ever wanted, that's got to give her a lot of relief.

Don't be the person to think 'this silly woman gets between my gay ship, brrrr rage what a bitch' or take her as one dimensional.

She's selfish because she's sacrificed everything she had, I think by now she's allowed to be. Sophia Di Martino did a wonderful job and deserves to have her character be enjoyed and understood, not labelled as annoying and 'the real villain'.

Some people only paid mind to the shipping when watching the show, ignoring the plot, and it really shows.