All this talk about the timeline of Zawe and Tom's relationship beginning had me remembering like before Dickens vs. Tolstoy there were sightings of him with someone at a restaurant and like it all begins to click
Submissions closed last night with 117 entries, and I have begun the process of compiling the bracket, the finished version of which will probably be released on Sunday night (3/19), with hesitant plans to begin the first official match-ups on Monday (3/20). There is five preliminary rounds required, which will release at 9:00 AM EST Saturday (3/18) and be open for 24 hours.
New Guaranteed Entries:
The Sorrows of Young Werther-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The Picture of Dorian Gray-Oscar Wilde
Dracula-Bram Stoker
Fahrenheit 451-Ray Bradbury
Passing-Nella Larsen
Their Eyes Were Watching God-Zora Neale Hurston
Slaughterhouse Five-Kurt Vonnegut
Invisible Man-Ralph Ellison
Moby Dick-Herman Melville
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-Robert Louis Stevenson
Jane Eyre-Charlotte Bronte
All Quiet on the Western Front-Erich Maria Remarque
Lord of the Flies-William Golding
The Oz Series-L. Frank Baum
The Catcher in the Rye-J.D. Salinger
Of Mice and Men-John Steinbeck
War and Peace-Leo Tolstoy
Preliminaries:
Lord of the Rings-related submissions
Dickens-related submissions (Oliver Twist vs. A Tale of Two Cities vs. A Christmas Carol)
Dumas-related submissions (The Count of Monte Cristo vs. The Three Musketeers)
H.G. Wells-related submissions (War of the Worlds vs. The Time Machine vs. The Invisible Man)
Warnings etc: Loki x female reader au where Lokis a therapist, therapy, swearing, mentions of past trauma later in the fic including abuse both physically and sexually - not explicit detail, 18+. PLEASE tell me if I ever leave anything out x
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Finally finished with all his clients for the day, Loki took the time to properly look through your file again after actually meeting you. You were nothing like he thought you’d be which was why he often scolded himself for making pre judgements about clients based on the information provided. He read through the notes from the answers to questionnaires you had completed before being paired with him for his specific skill set. Unlike other therapists who worked alongside him in the clinic, Loki specialised in cognitive behavioural therapy, mostly dealing with addicts of various different things ranging from substance abuse to sex. In his years of practicing, he had never come across someone like you. He knew it was wrong to make assumptions but he thought it was strange that someone who looked so well ‘put together’ would be spending thousands for therapy with him.
Before leaving the building, he spoke with Natasha who booked your appointment for next week. Making his way to his car, he thought back to your interaction. He felt a slight twinge of embarrassment wash over him for a second when he realised how easy it was for him to speak to you. Despite having gone to university and even studying a masters, Loki hadn’t ever met anyone he could playfully debate with like he did with you. No one had ever had a differing opinion to his and if they did, they kept it hidden often just agreeing with him. You were a breath of fresh air.
He got into his car before driving home, singing along to the the Beatles songs that were playing.
Pulling up on his driveway, Loki stopped the engine before opening the car door and exiting, reaching back in to grab his bag. Entering his house that was definitely too big for just him, he already felt himself growing tired. He showered before changing into some loose pyjamas and heading towards the large kitchen. He looked over the clean surfaces, seeing his own reflection looking back at him. He sighed at his solemn expression. Opening the fridge, he took out an apple and decided to eat that for dinner as opposed to cooking or ordering food. The task just seemed too strenuous for one person.
Walking back to his room, apple in hand, he looked down at the picture on the counter top of him and Thor as well as some of their friends. He missed it, the company.
Entering the en-suite, he brushed his teeth before taking his clothes off and going into bed, choosing to browse through his phone before he went to sleep. Remembering his earlier conversation with you, Loki smiled to himself as he went onto YouTube and watched a dickens vs Tolstoy debate.
“Perhaps you were right y/n.” He spoke aloud with a grin.
As the week went on, you found yourself counting the days until your next appointment with Dr Laufeyson. You convinced yourself to go out with Bucky one night, regretting it when you woke up with a hangover and a random guy who definitely wasn’t Bucky in your bed. You sighed to yourself, you didn’t even really remember the night. You hoped that the intoxicated you at least enjoyed herself. Getting up, you wrapped yourself in your duvet before using your foot to kick the man awake which only seemed to edge him further into a deep sleep as the sound of his snores rose. Taking a deep breath to try and fight your frustration, you thought you’d get yourself a glass of water before trying to wake him again. Dropping the duvet, you wrapped your dressing gown around yourself before stepping out of your bedroom.
Walking through the livingroom, you sighted Bucky crashed out on the sofa in only his boxers. You made your way towards him, laying down on the sofa next to him.
“Morning princess.” He spoke, eyes still closed as he quickly placed a kiss on your hairline.
“Morning Bucky. The guy from last nights still in my bed and he won’t wake up.” You told him, wrapping an arm around him as you snuggled into his side.
“Want me to get him out?” He asked, extending an arm for you to snuggle further into him.
“Not right now.” You said, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of him holding you. Your lip began to tremble as you thought over all the things that had led you to this moment, seeking such comfort from something as simple as an arm around you. Leaning further into him, you placed a kiss on Bucky’s chest as you draped a leg across him. Your lips continued to roam his body as your hand found his slight bulge. Opening his eyes, Bucky turned to face you, taking your leg off of him in the process.
“Come here.” He said, pulling you towards him before you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. One of his hands soothingly rubbed circles over your back as he rested his chin on the hop of your head. These small moments of intimacy were intoxicating. You could have gotten lost in them. You found yourself wishing it was real, not just Bucky pitying you. That was the power of one night stands, they didn’t know your history or any information they could use against you, they just knew that they wanted to fuck you. Something about that was empowering. “Did you guys talk about him during therapy?” Bucky asked, probably knowing what you were thinking.
“No, we just introduced ourselves. I’m sure he’ll come up during the next session.” You answered, falling further into Bucky’s embrace. He didn’t answer, he just held you tighter.
After a while, Bucky got rid of the straggler for you before he himself left whilst you nursed your hangover hoping you’d be right as rain by tomorrow for your appointment with Dr Laufeyson. You knew that you’d end up having to talk about your past, of course, it was therapy, but it didn’t make it easier to open up. You never really did. Bucky knew most of what happened because he was your best friend and you confided in him but you hadn’t really gone into detail with any of your previous therapists. Something told you that you were safe with Dr Laufeyson, that you could finally open up. The thought scared you.
Do you think (good) crime fiction can be viewed as truly “serious” literature? (The Swedish Academy doesn’t seem to think so.) Are Chandler, Hammett and Highsmith confined to an irremediably minor genre? In the case of Ellroy, arguably the greatest crime writer alive, I see quite the stylist at work in his America trilogy. And there’s John Banville too -a highbrow writer who has reinvented himself as the Irish Simenon, though he tellingly uses a pseudonym for his crime novels.
I'd probably draw a distinction between "fiction about crime" and "detective fiction." The latter seems more restrictive or formulaic in its (plot) conventions,[*] even in superb stylists like Hammett and Chandler. Whereas "fiction about crime" could pretty much be anything and includes plenty of "high literature" over the last two centuries (Balzac, Dickens, Dostoevsky, Faulkner, Hemingway, McCarthy, DeLillo, Oates, etc.). It's not a subgenre I'm deeply familiar with, though—I haven't read Highsmith or Ellroy, for example (though I have seen the movies!)—so I could be wrong.
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[*] I think genres or subgenres that essentially require a certain plot structure are "minor" in the modern period (not, obviously, in the pre-modern, which had a higher tolerance for the conventional). Note that this doesn't map onto the "literary fiction" vs. "genre fiction" distinction. Science fiction and fantasy aren't restrictive in this way, for example, and neither is historical fiction. It also explains why there is no "literary" version of the romance novel the way there is with other popular genres—no Raymond Chandler or Philip K. Dick or Alan Moore of the romance novel. The romance requires a certain plot, whereas the serious realist novel works with exactly the same material or content as the romance novel sans this requirement. Romance novels need no Raymond Chandler because the peak of the genre (in content terms) at its most expansive can boast of George Eliot, Leo Tolstoy, Henry James, Edith Wharton, Iris Murdoch—even Virginia Woolf and James Joyce and Marcel Proust. (Jane Austen invented both the serious realist novel and the genre romance novel in English, in the same way that Edgar Allan Poe invented science fiction, horror fiction, and detective fiction, on the one hand, and avant-garde or experimental fiction/poetry on the other. Austen and Poe are the most important fiction writers of the 19th century—not necessarily the best [though Austen is certainly among the best] but the most important—because, between them, they invented everything that came after.)
" He started to look scruffy and sad in 2018 after Infinity War promo. That Dickens vs. Tolstoy look was a disaster. "
You're right Z, we're splitting hairs and I think after SoT there was more than one gruffy phase. But I can't help thinking that something really hit him after Hamlet, whether it was SoT finally sinking in or something else that the public doesn't know. He started looking really rough then and looked rather uncomfy or blank at all events and he didn't really do anything noteworthy until Betrayal, if I'm not mistaken.
Just an animated movie and a couple of Loki cameos.
Everyone talks about how the Brontë vs Austen debate (which I dont think is very fair considering there are three Brontë sisters with very different books but I digress) is just done because they’re all women, but I disagree. I compare classic authors all the time, for example Dickens vs Tolstoy or maybe Dumas vs Hugo purely for the sake of better understanding the themes of their books and why I prefer one over the other. Yes, I would pick Brontë, Tolstoy, and Dumas, but why? So I can better know what my interests in books are. So yeah, I don’t just compare the Brontës and Austen because they’re women, I do it for everyone to better understand their books in general.
intelligence2: "#ThrowbackThursday to this time last year when Tom Hiddleston and @zaweashton performed this excerpt from Anna Karenina in our 'Dickens vs Tolstoy' debate. #iq2 #tomhiddleston #zaweashton"