Ok, so Quantumania done means Loki rewatch time coz blorbo 😍😍😍 but seriously, I really appreciate the way the series broke Loki out of his cool, controlled mask he always wore, particularly all throughout Thor to TDW and gave us a much more relatable and open Loki.
No more grand speeches, no more heavy handed eloquence that felt forced, no more controlled reactions. No, for the first time Loki was truly free from all the expectations, both self imposed and those he carried as a prince and later in trying to show himself as a powerful, formidable villian.
Just an open, vulnerable Loki who acted how he wanted without having to care about how others would perceive him. And that's what I love about the series that it gave us a Loki without any need for validation or any external pressure and showed us just who the guy is behind his projected image that he wore all throughout Thor to TDW.
And thank God, the man behind all that is an innocent trickster and not mr. Brooding guy. Loki had always been a trickster and a prankster be it in myths or comics and while his story had a lot of emotional weight, he was always a silly character. And I love MCU finally let him be silly and a dork.
What I particularly loved is how Loki went from feeling forced, like someone trying really hard to overcompensate (which he was tbh hence his controlled persona) like a cat puffing out it's chest to appear more intimidating to a more natural, real, raw characterisation.
But I think that was always the point. The Loki from Thor to TDW wasn't the real Loki but a controlled persona conjured by him to elicit a certain response from others (coz he was scared of being mocked). And the one we see in Ragnarok and the series is the real Loki, who he truly is when he isn't trying to force others to view him a certain way.
And that reflects beautifully in his speech which went from feeling kind of forced in Thor to TDW to more natural from Ragnarok. Like he's still Loki but now he speaks like how a real person speaks, not someone trying to gain authority.
I think it becomes very clear his so called 'shakespearean' speech is just a intimidation tactic in episode 1 and 2. During the interrogation scene and when he's trying to convince Sylvie to come join him, he speaks in a lower, slower, deeper voice with more advanced English as a way to appear more threatening and powerful. And my best scene is when his mask slips during the interrogation.
He goes from 'there's a fork in every road' to 'i know' in a split second and the sudden change in his demeanor is always hilarious. Tom Hiddleston is awesome. He promised to show us what makes Loki tick and he really laid it out bare for everyone to see.
The entire series, but especially ep 1-3 were like going inside Loki's mind and understanding what makes him tick .
Just chef's kiss 😘. I don't think anyone else could have accomplished what the team of S1 had done
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hello!!
Can I request Villian Tom Hiddles in which the reader is a journalist who is asked to do an interview on him and she beings to snoop around and she gets caught and a bit of teasing ensues. He decides to claim the reader as his own.
You're Never Leaving - Chapter One
(T/W: Mentions of murder, homicide, drug overdose deaths, and drugs)
A/N: Thank you so much for your patience with me, @omgsuperstarg ! I hope you enjoy this fic.
CEO, billionaire, genius, philanthropist, patron of the arts, enigmatic bachelor…Thomas William Hiddleston was a man of many titles and if he wasn't such a terrifying man, he might've been your hero.
For a long time, no one in the world had ever heard of the name Hiddleston, let alone in Great Britain. But that all changed in 2015, when the blue-eyed, dark-haired CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals graced the cover of Forbes magazine as one of the most influential people in the United Kingdom. It was then that the world was first introduced to Mr. Hiddleston.
He vaguely spoke about his childhood during his first interview, claiming Scottish origins and something about British people having difficulty pronouncing his surname. And then he narrated a story to the reporter about him re-vamping Imperial Pharmaceuticals in honor of his late father, who was a physical chemist that often working in matters related to medical science. And that was what inspired him to turn an unknown factory from the 1960s into one of the greatest drug manufacturers in the western hemisphere. it was nothing but a simple wish to honor one of the most intelligent men in Mr. Hiddleston's life…and a yearning to make healthcare accessible to all, despite their socioeconomic status or age.
The media ate it up like a bunch of hungry hyenas.
But along with all the press related to Thomas Hiddleston's tenacity, business talents and of course, his charisma, a few secrets about the CEO's past began to trickle into the public eye. The most notable secret was that Thomas Hiddleston was allegedly involved with one of London's most powerful mafia gangs, the gang that was known to carry out assassinations for a price, and manufacture cheap copies of prescription drugs for the black market. Some even said that he used money from his criminal activity to fund the drug research that took place at Imperial Pharmaceuticals.
The people at Imperial Pharmaceuticals did their best to hush all related rumors and possible allegations of criminal activity to their best avail. And thanks to their efforts, Thomas Hiddleston continued to remain in the public limelight as a non-scientist trailblazer in the world of drugs and medicine.
And Thomas Hiddleston's possible criminal past might have all faded into irrelevance if it hadn't been for two deadly coincidences.
The first coincidence was the mysterious death of three corrupt members of Parliament who'd recently been caught in a money laundering scam. They'd all seemingly died in their sleep on the same night, but their times of death were all different due to their bodies being discovered at different points. And the murder took place just two days after Imperial Pharmaceuticals launched their new line of pills to cure insomnia.
The second coincidence was the infamous mass overdose death that took place in South London in 2019, nearly the same day as when Imperial Pharmaceuticals launched a drug that would help heroin addicts combat symptoms of withdrawal and provide a placebo effect in the place of heroin.
As if the proximity between the drug launches and the deaths wasn't enough, the mere idea that the CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals was linked to a mafia that manufactured counterfeit drugs for the black market was enough to make you speculate that something might be going on behind closed doors. And that there was more to Thomas Hiddleston than meets the eye.
Your initial hunch was bolstered by the claims from a detective living in Baker Street who happened to be very familiar with the drug addicts living in the area of South London affected by the mass overdose. He told you about the drugs taken by the addicts living there, and how similar they appeared to be with respect to the ones from Imperial Pharmaceuticals.
Now all that was left for you was to approach Thomas Hiddleston himself, the CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals. His past and his links to the crime world were the whole reason that this new company could be linked to these two instances of homicide. But none of your speculations would be valid if Thomas Hiddleston didn't confess to his links with a London mafia group.
And thanks to Lady Luck, you - a journalist for a small magazine - managed to bag a twenty-minute interview with the man himself, one-on-one. No PR team to speak to, no red tape…it was too good to be true. Almost to the point where it made you wonder why someone so famous and busy as Thomas Hiddleston would eagerly accept an interview with a nearly-unknown magazine.
Still, the prospect of interviewing him made you giddy during the entire journey to the headquarters of Imperial Pharmaceuticals. If all went well, and you asked the right questions, you would be on the forefront of uncovering the crime of the decade. Alright, maybe not the crime of the decade - let alone Pulitzer-worthy - but still, this would be far juicier of a story than anything you had ever written about.
When you arrived at the building, a receptionist directed you towards the ninth floor of the building. There, a blonde young man dressed in grey with a thick Essex accent led you to a pair of tall doors, gently pulling a gilded handle towards him. "This is Mister Hiddleston's office, madam. He'll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes - would you like some coffee, some tea, or a glass of lemonade while you wait?"
"No…" You took a breath, knowing it would do nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. "No, thank you. I'll wait here…thanks."
"No problem, madam." He gave you a quick nod, and closed the doors behind you.
Unbelievable - you were actually inside the office belonging to the CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals Thomas William Hiddleston. Everything about his office screamed old money, whether it was the large, Baroque-style mahogany desk in the center adorned with a human skull a la Hamlet, or the mahogany chairs adorned with green cushions and gold accents. He may be shady, but goodness did he have taste.
You reluctantly allowed yourself to explore, first picking up the skull on Mr. Hiddleston's desk. Underneath it was a sticky note that read, in cursive,
'Silence the Baker Street Boys'
Silence the Baker Street Boys...What could that possibly mean? You thought to yourself for a moment before remembering the one testimonial you received...from a detective living on Baker Street. Oh my gods, did he already know about your interest in unveiling him as a criminal?
Anxious to know more about what Mr. Hiddleston did and did not know at this point, you found yourself rummaging through the drawers of his desk, and even opened some of the drawers underneath his bookcase.
You managed to uncover quite a few details, including a recipe for counterfeit cocaine using cornstarch, counterfeit heroine that doubled as a poison, a few emails about a shipment of sleeping pills and methanol, and even a diary filled with notes about different types of medication.
"Can I help you?"
You swiftly turned around to find none other than Mr. Hiddleston, standing behind you in a blue-black, double-breasted coat over a white button-down shirt, black trousers, and an ebony tie. His cerulean eyes narrowed in your direction, but the rest of his body showed no sign of tension. Not a single muscle in his face was tense, and
You swallowed, trying not to tremble as you stood up, and ignoring the ringing in your ears…almost as if you were slowly losing consciousness. But you knew where you were, and you knew how to maintain a professional demeanor…well, almost. "G-g-good afternoon, Mr. Hiddleston…It's-it's s'wonderful to meet you…in person."
Mr. Hiddleston crossed his arms. "You didn't answer my question."
At that moment, you were lost for words, your throat as dry as a stale biscuit. Mr. Hiddleston took a step closer, and looked you up and down while you closed the drawer, holding the knob to steady yourself. Taking your silence as the signal he has the upper hand, Mr. Hiddleston began to pace the room. "Shame, really. I was looking forward to talking to you today."
You blinked, still trying to process his words all while trying not to slip to the floor.
"You know, most of the journalists that talk to me are from these well-reputed magazines - Time, New York Magazine, Forbes - ones you'd find even in a supermarket or a dentists's waiting room. When my secretary came across your request for an interview, I was intrigued. A budding writer, graduated from university two years ago from…Bryn Mawr, yes?"
Your skin began to tingle, and each muscle in your hands went rigid as iron. Had he conducted a background check on you? Of course it was protocol that you did your homework before coming to an interview, but researching the interviewer? Not something that you could say any one of your interviewees had ever done before.
You nodded, and a small, minuscule smirk formed on Mr. Hiddleston's face. "Bryn Mawr…a women's college in Pennsylvania. You probably have a set of protective parents who didn't want their little daughter falling into the company of the bad boys. Can't blame them for wanting to shelter their princess." He sauntered towards one of the chairs facing the desk, placing his long fingers around the smooth arched top. "A major in political science, with two minors in the history of art and in English literature. You wrote exactly one-hundred and twenty articles for the Haverford and Bryn Mawr Bi-College Newspaper over the course of your four years of study."
Mr. Hiddleston casually pulled the chair out and sat down, keeping his legs almost half a yard apart. "I read some of your pieces while I was on a plane to Mumbai two days ago. I have to say, I was impressed - the things you wrote about student protests and action films were good enough. Good enough to cater to the tastes of liberal arts majors and washed-out professors who settled on teaching when they've failed to make an impact in their fields. But…" Hiddleston paused, touching his bottom lip with a finger, "I saw potential in you. I thought you could do better. I saw a drive, and perhaps a sliver of professionalism. What a shame, really." Mr. Hiddleston shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "Now perhaps I'll never know."
"What do you mean?" You blurted, eyes wide open for the first time since he entered the office.
He chuckled darkly. "Are you familiar with the term 'intrusion claim'? A method of invading one's privacy that involves interfering with one's seclusion or solitude?"
"These documents belong to the company!"
"A private company." He leans back, "Well, my dear, you've just provided at least three reasons for me to sue you. You've intruded on a private matter of mine; by your tone, you've declared that your intentions to invade my private documents was intentional; and…any reasonable person would find your little transgression to be highly offensive.
That puny little publication that pays for your bread and butter will be out of business faster than they can hide their tails between their legs, seeing as how my company's lawyers are unbeatable. And you, my inquisitive little Amanpour, will be nothing but a disgraced failure with a legal stain so conspicuous that no newspaper or publishing house will ever want to hire you."
"NO!" You shrieked, covering your mouth in horror at the possibility of losing your job, as well as being responsible for the magazine's collapse. "No, please…no!" You gasped heavily, your chest heaving through your blouse. "You can't do this….please, please don't do this. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have done it if -" You faltered almost immediately, seeing as how Mr. Hiddleston's expression did not change the slightest.
Mr. Hiddleston pointed to the ceiling. "This office is wired with security cameras, recording our each and every move. One display of this footage in court, and your case is over."
"I'll do anything," you boldly declared, placing both hands on his desk. "Anything at all, just don't sue me."
"Anything at all?"
"Anything." You swallowed, holding your head as high as possible…even if all you wanted to do was crawl under his desk and disappear. At this point, you needed nothing more than to save your job, and the magazine you represented. Even if it required…surely he wouldn't, not in his office…whatever it was, you'd still do it. Nothing else mattered.
Mr. Hiddleston smirked a little wider, putting his hands together. He'd easily found your kryptonite, and it would be a shame to turn down a chance to have some fun with it. "There is one thing that you could do for me. Perhaps then I might take back my earlier claims about suing you." He stood up from the chair and placed both hands on the desk, mirroring you, and leaned slightly forward. "You could work for me instead."
Baffled, you took a step back and shook your head. "I'm…I'm not in science…I've never even wrote for a scientific article before."
"You wouldn't have to." Mr. Hiddleston merely replied. "I would hire you as part of my own public relations team at Imperial Pharmaceuticals. You would be the person answering journalists on my behalf, those writers from the most well-reputed magazines - places surely you've dreamed of working at. All those journalists will be begging for a chance to interview you, to spend a meager twenty minutes in your presence just to gain an insider's perspective."
Now was your turn to cross your arms. You may have been desperate, but that didn't stop you from sensing something fishy in Mr. Hiddleston's proposition. "Why would you do this? You just threatened to sue me for an "intrusion claim". Now you want me to work for you?"
"Well, darling…." Mr. Hiddleston apparently decided to switch from 'my dear' to 'darling'. He looked up at you with a devious glint in his cerulean eyes. "Your transgression wouldn't be considered an intrusion if they were belonging to something you were a part of, since you would belong to this company. Unless you would prefer to never work in journalism again."
You closed your eyes for a moment and took a breath. "Fine. Just…bring me the paperwork."
"Why?" He asked, not even asking what paperwork you were referring to.
Opening your eyes, you forced yourself to look at Mr.Hiddleston at his level. "I'll take the job."
"What job?" Mr. Hiddleston teased, daring you to say it.
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to muster the words as best as possible. "I'll work for you. For…your PR team."
He tutted. "That's no attitude to bring to your new boss, darling."
Taking another breath, you stretched the corners of your mouth to form as convincing of a smile as possible. "I graciously accept your offer to work for your public relations team."
"And what else do you say to me?" Mr. Hiddleston smirked again, walking behind the desk so he was standing next to you.
"Thank you."
"Thank you who?"
You closed your eyes. Goodness, this man was going to milk everything out of this. "Thank you, Mr. Hiddleston."
He leaned in and briefly pecked your cheek, his lips barely touching your skin just enough for you to feel it. "That's more like it." Mr. Hiddleston began to walk away, striding towards the entrance of the office.
"Wait!"
He turned around on his heels.
"What about the interview?" You asked, picking up the notebook and pens you brought with you.
Mr. Hiddleston stroked his chin for a moment, and put his hands in his pocket. "I'll have my secretary reserve a table for two at Circolo Popolare. 6 PM, and the dress code is cocktail. Don't be late, darling."
Tagging: @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @thatdummy-girl @holdmytesseract @icytrickster17 @winterfrostlovetriangle @cakesandtom @mischievoushiddleston @lady-rose-moon @turniptitaness @jennyggggrrr @the-haven-of-fiction @fantasyfan4life @hellomadamebutterfly @sallymagnoliaposts
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