#anyways. i actually really enjoy this question and think the discussion around it is enjoyable and the question itself was perfectly framed

[pantestudines]

No one should care but ive been thinking about it and my take is that the root of the walrus/fairy question is one specific word used by the original poll: "surprised". The question is not which would change your worldview or which is more/less possible to really happen. The question is which *surprises* you more. To me, this means which causes a stronger immediate surprise reaction in you upon opening that door. In essence, how bad do you flinch?

This, to me, is why so many people (including myself!) choose Walrus. A walrus is an immediate situation! That's an animal larger and stronger than you are, one that I would say is potentially very dangerous, that many people have never seen in real life. And now it's your responsibility and on your doorstep! A walrus on a doorstep is a novel idea, at least to me. I don't think I've ever had an animal just appear at my door, and certainly never knock. Sure, after the gut reaction dies down, the mundanity of the situation is certain; a walrus is a real animal and the perpetrator is likely nearby, laughing at the world's weirdest ding-dong ditch prank. But for a few seconds, it's just you, your expectations upon opening a door, and a pinniped of unusual size.

Now let's examine the fairy; The term can be vague, but I think most people imagine a generally humanoid but very small creature with insect wings. First off, by being small, the fairy will likely not trigger a defensive response, unlike the walrus. This thing is not an immediate threat, at least to your subconcious. Also, by being humanoid, usually with a very human face and features, this changes the situation from "strange beast on my doorstep" to "strange person on my doorstep". Obviously this may be different from person to person, but I think "strange small person on my doorstep" would illicite much weaker response from my flight or fight reflex than a large, strange animal. This is nothing to say about the familiarity most people have with fantasy and fantasy ideas, and the lack of familiarity most people have with walrus' in general, but I think those are also factors.

[smoreboi]

Well, I'm a little late to the post (randomly popped up on my fyp) How would you rank your enjoyment of the different life series and why? Also are smores your favourite food or not, if not, I will be mad (jk jk)

hard question, I love them all, but here’s my attempt at an answer. also, I am in the group of folks who tries to keep up with multiple pov’s, but im also very busy, so mostly I just end up watching grian’s, so that will effect my answers

third life - the og, if i hear any hate for third life, i will rip and tear and bite, twas the beginning of something so fantastic. There’s a reason Desert Duo and Flower Husbands and RenWood and such are still terms that get thrown around in fan discussions today, an icon of a season. 10/10

last life - if I’m ever to forget the major occurrences of any of the life series’, it would be last life, it’s probably the lowest on my list because of that, there are tons of great moments, and the introduction of the boogeyman was great, it just stuck with me less than the others 7/10

double life - YES YES 1000X YES. I’m not brave enough to say it’s my favorite, but just. Watch the Everen animatic for double life on repeat for 13 hours and try to come back to me telling me you’re normal about double life. You can’t. If you can, you’re lying. The angst factor was up to 100 when they decided to make double life. And every pairing in there was iconic. 100/10

limited life - I feel like when I finally get around to watching martyns pov for limited life, I’ll be able to enjoy it more, for now, it’s still highly ranked, it’s just not as highly ranked bc the gimmick wasn’t as gripping from a them actually playing stance. Loved all the timepieces and symbolism in the artwork, and I mean, bad boys, ties, nosey neighbors, the family, the mean gills, all icons in their own right, just. There wasn’t much change to the gameplay imo. 8/10

secret life - so I have been able to watch scars pov for this one and just. 😭😭😭😭the ending, with the “she’s dead, scar. you won” and the “how did the guy with no friends win” and just. AAAAAHHHHH I wanted to eat my own teeth it would’ve been less painful than that. You’ll note that the ones with more angst factor are higher rated in this list, it just gets all the creative folks going feral and I love seeing it and occasionally trying to be a part of it, anyways, yea, we’ll say 50/10

wild life - not a fully formed opinion yet because the series isn’t finished, but this is the most gimmick we’ve ever gotten and I am soo here for it! Put these creatures into situations!! I have been consistently watch both grian and rens POVs for this one since grian uploads a lot later than most of the others (+ I keep up w sarez and jimmy’s reactions to sarez (keep the nickels coming, reddit folks, I ain’t there, but I support you)) and really just. I need to watch more of ren is what I’ve learned from this, he makes everything fun. We’ll say 9/10, subject to change as the series progresses

bonus: real life - such a good April fools episode, 10/10 for being hilarious and putting them folks in funny little situations (this is separate from my other ratings, I still like actual canon seasons more than real life)

and for the second question, s’mores are fantastic, definitely in the top, but I don’t think I can say they’re my number one favorite food, just because there’s so many foods out there. the blog name came from the first friend I ever came out to saying that my chosen name reminded them of a smore and then proceeding to call me smore friend around folks I wasn’t comfortable being out to as a way to not deadname while still keeping stuff under wraps.

[animehouse-moe]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 138: Sword Man

Classic Fujimoto, entirely inscrutable to the outside eye, changing pace and outlook at the drop of the hat. Closure is a word that I'm sure doesn't exist in their vocabulary at this point as we skip and jump around from place to place in this chapter and expose a lot of information. Really, they drop a lot of stuff, arguably important stuff, in this chapter that I really think will get people wondering.

We first find out that our mystery girl, Fumiko Mifune, is actually a bodyguard placed next to Denji to protect him. A pretty solid surprise for sure, but I think more interesting than that is the personality that she shows now that the jig is up.

The switch flips immediately, and instead of it being all about Denji, it's now all about Chainsaw Man. It's a really interesting piece that doesn't quite elicit a specific emotional response as it does confusion in Denji. The girl that was interested in "him" was only interested in Chainsaw Man. Just a natural extension of Denji's terrible luck with (older) women. Every single one is after only half of him, the piece that resembles him the least, the piece that people want to rob him of. Why is Denji not worthy of love and attention, but Chainsaw Man is? Perhaps that's what confuses Denji in this moment, why everybody looks through him for something that is him.

Anyways, Karaoke Fujimoto.

And now some fun dichotomy between Asa and Yoru. It's quite enjoyable how consistent and committed Fujimoto is to representing Asa and Yoru as separate and opposite entities in comparison to the blurred lines that exist with Denji and Chainsaw Man.

Following that up, I really liked this dialogue/sequence with Asa discussing her popularity. She refuses to be likened to Yoru, so of course she immediately denies the fact that she's drawn in by her fame and popularity. But her story tells readers otherwise. She's the one tuned into the TV broadcast plastering her face across the screen, she's the one that is smiling at seeing how much attention she's getting.

Asa's inability to be honest with herself has long been an established character trait, so I really enjoy seeing it be used in places like this where it can be used to further blur the line between Asa and Yoru, and that despite being setup to be at complete odds with one another, they're slowly assimilating.

And now, for the real bombshells of the chapter. Asa/Yoru's scar is visible to others when Yoru takes control of the body. This is a trait that we've not seen with hybrids up until this point. So, the question is,

Can you call Asa Mitaka a hybrid?

I don't think you can, and here's why. First of all, when a hybrid devil "transforms", they have to directly interact with their body: Denji pulling his cord, Katana Man take his hand off, so on and so forth. Secondly, when a hybrid "returns" to their human form, that excess transformation begins to slough off of their bodies in clumps. Thirdly, it's marked by physical differences to their human body that resemble the fear that they embody. Lastly, the devil inhabits the heart of the hybrid human.

In all situations, Asa and Yoru do not satisfy these criteria. There is no requirement for transformation, nor any physical difference that is gained and removed in the typical fashion, nor is it Asa's heart that's been removed.

By all means, I believe we can properly confirm that what Asa and Yoru are experiencing is symbiosis, where Yoru is a symbiote existing in Asa. The transformation is implicit, Yoru can control Asa (though Asa can wrestle control back), etc. etc. The point being that knowing that the scar is an actual change that is perceived means that Yoru can exert some form of control over the body, but that she can't transform properly like a hybrid. Some might argue that there's potential Yoru is considered a "fiend", but in those the original personality is erased (which is not the case here).

Also, with the confirmation of the scar being visible, a new theory is produced. Not that there's two bodies or anything like that, no it's a much more odd, implicit, and weird thing to try and explain. Yoru is using Asa's old body, while Asa herself occupies the "new" one given to her by Yoru. Yeah, I use old and new even though I said there's not two bodies, but I'm not sure how else to explain it. The scars that are visible directly indicate that Yoru's "body" is the one that she put back together when Asa died. However, Asa's current body does not display any of those scars. I'm unsure what exactly this could mean, but I think there's a lot of potential for some really interesting psychological aspects to emerge.

Anyways, the next massive bombshell: Sword Man. This alone gives the potential for all the other hybrids to still be alive. This means characters like Reze, Quanxi, and others could still exist. Not that we really had a way to confirm that they were dead, but considering they've not shown up until now it's not a crazy thing to have assumed.

At the same time, it also means that there's potential for Sword Man to not actually be sword man. We've seen that it's entirely possible to morph and shapeshift to look exactly like other people, so it's entirely possible that this person is either working with or is the same person that is the imposter Chainsaw Man. That, or they're part of the group that is set on attacking Denji.

Whichever is the truth, it's a big reveal that has pretty dire consequences for the nature of the impending doom of the foretold prophecy.

So overall, the chapter stays pretty far away from Denji's identity crisis regarding Chainsaw Man, and instead establishes some crazily important facts and points within the world to provide the stepping stones for future aspects. Will we find out what Asa and Yoru actually are? Will the existence of Sword Man lead us towards who is the false Chainsaw Man? Will other hybrids make an appearance, is Yoshida pulling strings behind the curtains through all of these moments? Will Denji ever find anybody that likes him for just who he is? Find out, on the next episode of: Chainsaw Man.

[asteria7fics]

How did you come up with the idea to make TSOB?

You know, I’m surprised to say that I don’t think I’ve answered this question on Tumblr before!

The short version that I tend to tell people is this: I was bored at work one night, working the closing shift, and I had an epiphany. I thought to myself, “Isn’t it weird that I take so much comfort in terrible characters? Like Agamemnon, and Cartman-… wait a damn minute!”

Seriously, it occurred to me that Agamemnon and Cartman actually had quite a few similarities, and then I realized that Kyle would make an excellent Achilles, and the rest was kind of history.

The long version? Well, how much time have you got?

I can’t really pinpoint the moment when I got really into Greek Mythology, and Classical/Ancient Greece in general, but it’s been an interest of mine for several years now.

I spent hours just exploring Greece in Assasin’s Creed Odyssey (as well as taking detailed notes in the historical tour mode), watched so many YouTube videos, read a great many books, etc.

Reading was actually where my love for the Trojan War in particular began. Idk man, there’s just something about those characters, and that conflict, that I adore.

I could give you a list of contemporary novels I’ve read and really enjoyed, but you didn’t come here for book recommendations ahaha so I’ll spare you the details, but suffice to say it was the only thing I read about for like a year.

Fast forward through a really intense k-pop obsession (it’s still a majority of the music I listen to. I’m listening to Ateez as we speak) and I’m in the throes of a new interest. Fucking South Park.

I really did just, get the idea one day. I was around season 15 of my first time watching the show (though I had a ton of stuff spoiled already, hence why I made Heidi and Cartman exes), and I had just started reading fanfiction. I had no intention of actually writing the damn thing, but the more I spitballed ideas with a few select coworkers, the more I realized the thing needed to be written.

Who else but my crazy ass would write this thing, really?

I suppose I should also add another, small piece of inspiration. Right before getting into South Park I actually decided to be surgically sterilized. I won’t go into detail as to why I made that choice, but the idea crossed my mind while developing the story to have a side plot where the adults are losing their minds over all their condoms going missing (because, yah know, they were needed for warfare!) and the whole town gets caught up in this big debate over if the man or the woman has the responsibility to be sterilized, should a cis & straight couple choose to be done having children.

Obviously this would have been a Randy and Sharon heavy debate, and I’m glad I didn’t include it as a proper plot point. In my mind though it does still occur, the kids are just totally oblivious to it. Likewise, the adults are totally oblivious to how ridiculous their kids play war is getting, until of course there are real consequences to the whole thing.

There’s one bit that alludes to it, when Annie has gone to the little girl’s house to discuss getting her Switch back and the girl’s parents are arguing about something they ‘don’t understand’. A fun remnant of a plot point that didn’t quite make it in!

Anyway, I’ve already broken down the story beats and how they correlate with the original text in this post, though if you were wondering where Cartman and Heidi canonically get their inspiration, I like to imagine they binged this show while they were together. It’s actually a pretty entertaining retelling, I would definitely recommend it to a casual enjoyer of Greek Myths!

Wow, that was a lot! If you actually read all of that, thank you!

And thank you for this ask, friend! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

[shiraishi--kanade]

hi! im sorry if this is a far too personal question, it just comes from a place of curiosity — since you have aphantasia, how do you experience books/fics/writing in general?

if movement or specific body language is being described, is it harder to interpret it? can you like, ‘see’ the words in your head instead of the images or is any sort of visualization impossible? also how does math work for u…..

Hi! Don't worry, I don't mind talking about it all (I don't post about anything I would be opposing to discussing or sharing my experience with publically as a rule of the thumb), and this is actually a very thoughtful and interesting question! Because yeah, it does impact my ability to both enjoy reading and write something of my own, and I've talked about it quite extensively with other people - just not like, posted about it. But with that said my experiences don't represent everyone, every aphantasic person has a different expectations, you know the drill.

I think I approach reading more mathematically than other people, but in general I don't tend to enjoy books. Like, at all (especially adding dyslexia to the mix). Non-fiction is easier to get through than fiction - around 80% of books I've read in the past three years or so have been non-fiction. Fan-fiction is also easier because you don't have to put in effort into getting to know the characters and their environment, but original fiction is the ninths circle of hell - double if it's set in a fictional fantasy word or whatever. I can appreciate nice world building, but, my guy, those two pages you've just spend describing the castle worth nothing to me. I can't see shit (guy being a metaphorical writer, whatever metaphorical castle are we talking about here).

Anyway, back to approaching it mathematically - it is as you said, I don't interpret body language in writing. Things like people moving across the room, or standing up or sitting down, I think they don't really translate over in my brain because I never thought or needed that information anyway. However, I do understand things from narrative point? As in, I don't "see" a character crossing their arms, but as a person who is reading about it and knows how to interpret real life body language, I know the author intended to write that gesture to portray a character being defensive or discontented. This is generally how it goes for every facial expression/body language thing in a book - I notice it and analyse the intent behind putting it there, and that's about all there is to it. I guess you could say reading is more of a conversation with the writer for me in that respect? There is still merit to pointing out those things for me, and I know the purpose of putting them in the text. I think, for me, everything that requires imagination is a bit of a "blue curtains" dilemma - it's always the "why"s it's in the text, and honestly this is what I enjoy in reading, figuring that stuff out.

This also means my experience will vary depending on writhing style, on a case by case basis. Flowery language, abundance of metaphors, a lot of descriptions that don't serve an overarching narrative purpose usually amounts to Did Not Finish on a book for me. It's just not enjoyable. On the other hand, dialogue-driven, heavy-hitting "no-nonsense" and more factual writing styles is something I usually enjoy.

Also, while I do have aphantasia (no visualisation. No images in my brain whatsoever), I don't have total aphantasia - which means I still have an ability to mentally recall and imagine other senses, mostly aural for me. So I both enjoy dialogues in books overall, and especially dialogue-heavy fanfiction and such. Also, no, I don't exactly "see" the words themself in my mind either (although I think some people do?), but I can imagine how they would sound if spoken aloud - just kind of narrating everything without actually picturing it. I don't know if there's any use to it, though.

Edit: also forgot to add - math works for me in a way that it just kind of doesn't. I finished the subject with D.

[redshcdes]

@wouldhope sent:

"I'm glad you're so interested in my lectures- er, excuse me, our conversations. My descendant was a good listener, at least, but he didn't ask any questions or contribute much - unlike you. Truly, I have found our discussions most enjoyable..." (from kankri lmao)

* From An Inbox Call //

The idea of Karkat being a listener, let alone a good one, is a highly laughable thought. It does wish she was around for their discussions, for seeing Karkat just silent, not bitching, and listening is a rare sight.

Terezi doesn't make a comment on that matter, however. No need to bring him up more than necessary, anyway ...

"Oh, how can I not?" she'd pipe up with a brightness upon her face. "It's absolutely so interesting to hear about everything you've experienced and beliefs. It's insightful !"

It's funny to her, the contrast between him and Karkat. How more eloquent Kankri is as oppossed to Karkat's rancorous bitching -- God damn it why is she thinking about him again?

"I've really enjoyed our talks, too! It's nice to have someone to actually engage with."

[deepblueeyess]

A Fresh Start

{this is your friendly reminder that the entirety of the post might be just as cliché as the title up there.}

but if you stick around, continue on reading, I love you.

.

.

.

hi everyone, it’s been a while since I last post here in tumblr. I have so many things in mind right now, don’t really know what to discuss first, but, let's start with this :

guys, or maybe friends, or--ya I’ll leave it to you what you prefer to be called, I have changed. 

And why this surely is important to let the readers know, is because if I change, my writing will surely change too.

If I change, I’m probably gonna change the direction of my blog, as in : what topic I will be talking about, my style, my way of talking about it,and it might also impact your satisfaction-enjoyment-interest while reading it, haha. 

But this is a change for good, I promise. And I’ll help you to see why.

If I look back at the tone of my writings here, as well as the whole concept of it, here’s what I've came to realize ; this blog, up until this point, has just been me hosting my own pity party. Has been me, pretty much ‘selling’ my sob story. 

Very questionable, yes. 

Now, did that work out? did my sob story get the attention it wanted? Yes it did. Some people come at me, stating their empathy. I get to be more ‘understood’ by people. A lot more people sympathize with me. Two extra bonuses, I got more attention, and, there are more people who would let my madness slide. Why? Because I’ve got sob stories. Because I have a sad, pitiful background. Be nicer to me, please, love. 

I enjoyed it. Quite a lot. 

While this might be one of the most embarrassing things to ever admit, I’ll admit it anyway. Because I slay like that hehe. I gain attention by selling my sob stories to the world, I enjoy dwelling in my own world of adversity, and, before I know it, I lose all the ability to think good. To have thought of good things. To even feel good. Now, if you feel and think so miserably, how are you going to be able to move at all?

Let me put it this way ; my writings, from now on, wouldn’t revolve around my sufferings anymore. That ain’t the main topic bro. Not again. Not ever. 

Maybe you would wonder about two things such as, woa, okay, where are you going now? what are you gonna be posting about from now on? and, how did the idea that you’re just hosting your pity party the entire time come about? 

The first one, well, it’s a secret, I’m not talking about the things that hasn’t arrived yet--no actually I haven’t thought about it at all lol. But one thing you can expect very soon is a hs review and recap.

About the second one, I was made aware by a lot of things. It’s an accumulation of so many things, like, the book I’ve read, the self-help videos I’ve watched, the podcast and ted talks I’ve ‘consumed’, the series of event going on in my life, people, and just, life, really. Everything going in my life now has been ‘awakening’ me in a way. 

As for everyone who have been with me, in this tumblr, for a little while now, I apologize that you have to witness all that. All the madness I was spitting, all the sob stories--where I manage to pretend that I wasn’t delivering any sob stories at all, I really am sorry. Even so, I’m just gonna let those writings be there. I’m not making it private, not deleting, not editing it, just letting it be there as it is, raw and pure. Now, maybe not many will get what I’m trying to do by doing that, so here’s some justification brief explanation.

I’ve mentioned this before but in case you don’t know, I’ve had some blogs too in the past. I have this habit of deleting everything every five months because you know, I would change, and grow, maybe outgrow a lot of my writings. And I would cringe, obviously. Each time that I cringe, I click the delete button. Each time I find my writing ridiculous, I get rid of it. Until I’m left with absolutely nothing. As if I have no history of blogging, ever. Because it’s blank empty. 

And now, I don't have something to look back. I don't have my old writings to reflect on. And most importantly, I didn't know very well what kind of person I was.

So we're not doing that.

I don’t know how many chapters are there in my life, but at this point, I sure am at the very end of a chapter. A chapter that has been going on for four years now. I’m about to start a new chapter soon Insya Allah, and I’m very excited to share those stories I’ll have in the future. We’ll talk about it in a positive manner, obviously. I really want it to be like, okay, this happened. What did I learn? that kind of tone. That kind of attitude.

Sooo that's that. I think I'm gonna have to wrap it up here, and I hope you’ll stick around. Tschüss!

❤️, Nadia.

24/05/’23

[independentzaun]

Eyes flickering to Ekko she took a sip of her tea before blinking, and tilting her head a bit. “I never said it was for torture. As for fucked up…” Head going back Jinx considered the ceiling for a moment before letting a sudden bark of a laugh. “Hah! Yea I guess it would be!” She’d used fire to hurt people before of course. Fire, and metal, and burns, and knives, and all sorts of things. However to Jinx it was quite often more “punishment” than it was “torture” not that it made any real difference to the people she’d inflicted the pain on, and it didn’t mean she enjoyed it any less. In the case of what they were discussing however sometimes battlefield medicine (on the rare occasions Silco had made her work with others) got rather messy particularly when one person had a rather deranged sense of what was “okay”, and a very short amount of time to work. “As for the point. Mmmm, I don’t think you’d really care.” Why bother telling him? At best he wouldn’t actually care, and at worst he’d call her a liar and that’d just be annoying.

Still leaning against the counter her gaze flickered around the small kitchenette and out into the living room. She had a rather simple attitude. If he was going to attack her than he would have already, and slowly her own adrenaline and enjoyment and energy was starting to fade. Not that it left her weak, but whatever she’d gotten from bleeding and cutting him was fading. Jinx could almost feel the static at the edge of her mind trying to flicker upwards, and for as much as she hated him Ekko had been one of the few people lately maybe the only person who’d actually talked to her.

Vi was gone. Silco was gone. No one else was left. How weird it was that her enemy she’d been trying to kill for years now was the only one still there.

Lost in thought for a second she blinked and looked up hearing his sudden question. For a moment she almost looked...lost somehow. The habitual gleam, and vaguely predatory expression on her face or the rage or whatever else Ekko was used to seeing was gone. Instead there was just a grown Powder blue haired killer who seemed weirdly uncertain as the expression faded from her face except for an odd look in her eyes. “I don’t know…” It was the truth. Which even for Jinx was strange. Regardless of what people though she normally knew why she did one thing or another. It might not be for a reason that made sense to others or that others would think healthy, but there was a reason all the same. In this moment staring at Ekko who was very obviously not about to die because of her actions however she simply didn’t know, or at least wasn’t willing to consciously acknowledge why she’d done what she had.

Looking away she shook her head before letting out a nervous little laugh. “Of course I know! DUH! Heh. Whyyyy would I just let you die so easily when…”

Why had she saved him? She could have brought him back. Tied him down. Cauterized the wound. Taken her time to take out all her frustrations, and rage, and pain on him. Make him feel what she felt, and make him suffer. It’s not as though she wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Jinx knew what she was. A monster. She enjoyed being a monster, and that wasn’t ever going to change. So why had she not only saved his life, but also ensured he’d be able to leave?

“I brought you here instead of leaving you on the roof because there were too many enforcers, and too much going on. At best you would have been killed, or your people would have came and you as well as some of them would have gotten killed. At worst you would have been captured, and tossed into a cage.” It was easier to just change the subject. Why did he have to ask that question anyways? Why did it matter? Why did every single time she just wanted to help something happened people had to question, and complain, and…

YoU KnOW WHY. JINX. YoU Are A JiNX. ThEY COMPLaIN BecAUSE YoU AlwAYS FUCk It UP JuST LiKE POWDER DiD. AlwAYS WeiRD. OuTCAsT. FailURE. SavE HiM BuT Can’T SavE ThE MonSTeR ThaT RaiSEd yOU? HAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHA FUCKING HILARIOUS NOW HE’LL KILL YOU ONE DAY AND IT’LL BE YOUR OWN FAULT YOU JINXED YOURSELF. JINX JINX JINX JINX!

Hand tightening around her cup for a second there was a sudden look in her eyes that spoke somehow both of fear, and rage as they flickered to the side. If it wasn’t for the fact there was no one in the direction she looked one might have thought someone just insulted her and practically spit in her face. Jaw tightening for a second she swallowed, and forced herself to relax taking a long sip of her tea not stopping until all of it was gone at which point she tossed the tea cup casually away. One could easily expect that cup to simply shatter with how Jinx hadn’t even looked were she tossed it, but be it coincidence or other wise it landed on a nearby dishcloth on it’s base standing upwards without any damage at all.

“Why do any of this? Because why not. Because He is gone, and she’s gone, and they are all gone, and I don’t give a FUCK about those stupid annoying parasitic chem-barons who probably all want you dead and I can’t drag your broken bleeding body to Him so I may as well just take my time! Because we’ve been doing this for too long for it to end like this! Because… because…” A soft laugh came from her as she offered a harsh predatory grin. Almost no one would ever notice it, but there was something within her eyes that was weirdly similar to when Powder had knocked on Ekko’s door looking vaguely lonely despite not being willing to admit it and only saying that Vi and the others had gone off to do their own thing. “Because I’m a mad dog who does whatever I want whenever I want. What else could I be? Why else would I save the boy saviour hmmm? Oh I know! Because it’s hilarious! The boy savior getting saved by the person whose going to kill him one day, it’s like some weird kind of comedic tragedy.” Her voice was almost too sharp, too harsh, too sarcastic.

Maybe she was putting on an act both for him, and for herself.

Maybe there was truth within the madness and taunts.

Maybe Jinx was just lost, and no one would help.

Never again would anyone help.

“Or I guess the person you will kill one day. That’d be something too.”

YoU KnOW YoU’VE JinXED YouRSELF. He’S GOING TO KILL YOU AND We WiLL BE LaughING ALL ThE WAY InTO ThE DARkNESS aT you.

@misfits-of-zaun

“You’re so welcome! I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

At her sarcastic taunt, Ekko's jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared; he averted his gaze, wrestling the sudden surge of vitriolic bitterness back into its box before it could swallow him.

"...'Boy Saviour', right?" He parroted the nickname in an acrimonious undertone, by way of answer.

Jinx didn't keep throwing that nickname in his face because he was good at saving people; it was just a cruel reminder of all the times he'd failed. And Jinx represented one of those biggest failures.

Still, Ekko didn't actually know what he would have done, if their positions had been reversed. He'd thought he'd known what Jinx would do, but she'd just completely proven him wrong on that account. It was a disconcerting discovery.

“That one. If you want it.”

It was a dubious enough decision to even still be here; it was downright stupid to drink anything Jinx had made for him. Maybe it was the shimmer in his system making him more impulsive, less able to ignore the opportunity to soothe his raw, parched throat. Maybe it was a cynical recognition that if Jinx had wanted him dead or drugged for further infliction of sadistic harm, she'd had ample opportunity to follow through when he was still tied down to the dining room table.

Maybe this was the first civil conversation they'd had in years, and he didn't know if there would ever be another one.

Just as he was taking an experimental sip of (thankfully normal) tea, Jinx spoke up again.

“No. The people I cut open don’t get tea. They just die, and since it normally takes longer than when I shoot them they end up rather scared.”

Disgust and revulsion flashed across Ekko's face. Yeah, it wasn't exactly a surprise, but to hear her so openly admit to multiple occurrence of extreme sadism as though it was just another hobby was... deeply unpleasant.

"Delightful," he muttered, and promptly set the mug back down, feeling sick to his stomach. How many of those people had died right here, on the very table he'd woken up on?

She's a monster. A mad dog. You've known that for a while now. You should put her down before she kills anyone else.

Kill one person to save others. It wasn't like he'd never had to do that before, in a fight. But it felt intrinsically wrong, to kill someone who'd just saved his life. Like something a mad dog would do.

I'm not like you. I'm not.

Seeming blithely unaware of his internal conflict, Jinx had kept talking. Rambling about... third degree burns?

“...So you’d think it’d upset people less when you pour the right type of metal powder into a wound, and light it on fire. It’s just going to cauterize it and make it stop. Probably be some pain afterwards but it’d be on the outskirts of the burn, and not that bad. However I can tell you it really does not upset them less.”

Oh, fucking hell. Ekko wanted to bleach his brain of this information. He wanted to be physically sick. He wanted to strangle her.

"First of all," Why was he even dignifying this insanity with a response?

"That's some fucked up shit, even for you. Secondly, yeah, I'd say most people are gonna get pretty upset about getting permanently mutilated under torture. Thirdly - what's the fucking point?"

Contrary to what was commonly assumed, torture generally was not an effective way of getting reliable information. People who'd already resolved to refuse to cooperate would double down out of resentment-fuelled spite, while more cowardly individuals would simply say whatever they thought their torturer wanted to hear in order to make the pain stop. Great for securing false confessions - utterly garbage for gaining verifiably accurate intel.

Third degree burns also weren't even a clever way of hurting someone, just for hurting's sake. The permanent nerve damage gave you less of a canvas to inflict pain on, and the burns wouldn't heal without prompt medical attention - not to mention, the complete destruction of the skin layers carried a very high infection risk. The cauterization would kill off the healthy tissues on top of the existing burn damage, leaving them to rot in the wound bed as an all-you-can-eat buffet for bacteria. If going into shock didn't cause the victim's organs to pack it in, the sepsis definitely would.

(Not that any of these victims had probably survived long enough to develop sepsis before Jinx grew bored and killed them some other way.)

Fuck, this was painting a vivid mental image thay he could not unsee. Ekko hated it. Why was he even thinking about this shit, anyway? Much less discussing it?

What the hell did you expect? A normal conversation? Some actual closure? Hah.

He should just be thankful he hadn't been added to the body count, by some absurdly fortunate twist of fate, and be getting the hell out of here.

“So I guess you going to stick around here until the shimmer wears off? Be awkward answering questions about your eyes, and what happened and all from your people right? Ohhhh, Ekko’s gonna have a secret.”

It annoyed him that she was right; he didn't want to have to explain this to anyone. Then, something occurred to him; Ekko's eyes narrowed.

...Was. Was Jinx making tea supposed to be some bizarre attempt at asking him to stick around? Was she actually trying to play nice, while blithely telling him nightmare-inducing little stories about all the grisly shit she'd have done to other people in his stead? Was that supposed to make him feel lucky?

This was so fucking weird. He wanted the thrumming in his head go away. He wanted to flop down in his bed at home and never, ever think about this evening again.

"What are you doing, Jinx?" He asked abruptly, at last.

"Seems pretty counterproductive to save someone you've been trying to kill. And we both know you didn't have to pinky promise me shit. So why do it? Hell, why do any of this?"

@independentzaun

[miracleonice87]

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 

[system-of-a-feather]

(TW: General disconnection from reality / discussions of unreality)

I think something that is greatly underplayed in discussions of chronic dissociation is just how like... the world is perceived when you are pretty much constantly at a base level of “extremely disconnected”

I dunno if it goes for other people, but I - and I know a lot of the other parts in my system feel similar - don’t really fully recognize this world / existence as seriously as my life / existence as I feel a lot of other people do.

For me, it is really hard to see the world as anything more than a secondary realm I am stuck in and something that we have to work and live in. I see it as something I am coming into learning how to be a part of - rather than it being something that I have always been part of or “the only thing I know”

It’s a bit apparent sometimes when I hear people who don’t have chronic dissociation issues have existential crisises about life, death, and what happens after. Or having their head hurt over topics like the multi-verse and that some people really genuinely see most of their experience as this world and what's around them.

I look at our life and our experience as something I’ve opted to return to because out of the options I had, figuring out a life in this realm is really the only sustainable and possibly enjoyable thing. I’m not lost like a new baby to the world, I understand how it works - and I’m not even talking about this in the manner of being a fictive. I don’t even THINK this, it is more of a feeling and just a base line thing I just assume and default to until I think about it.

I innately feel a lot as though I am from I guess whatever plane of existence or realm of existence that all the internal stuff is from, and that when I am out here, I am just doing my part to make everything out here run. It feels a lot like.... I dunno a side quest to the game?

The thing is I don’t even do much in the inner world, I don’t really explore or have intricate relationships there, it is just like... The innate feeling that this world and reality is just a stopping point and that it really the place I am from and meant to be.

It’s likely also a trauma thing - the isolation and sense of being different from everything and everyone - but it also plays into a lot of the whole dissociation thing. 

I really genuinely don’t understand what it is like to feel like this is a real world, with real experiences, and real feelings. All the years of my life, this had just been something we needed to maintain and survive and keep going so we could still exist - nothing more, nothing less - a job, not something to really... experience? Enjoy? Relax in? Care about?

So a lot of the time when it really clicks with me, that some people here actually innately just are connected to this reality and have difficulty thinking of NOT being from here or what it is like to NOT exist in this reality, I just sit there is shock.

It sounds overwhelming but a bit enjoyable and fun to be that connected and tethered to existence and the world.

I dunno, there are a lot of thoughts I have about it that I ponder about because my fiance is relatively mentally not-ill and doesn’t have dissociation issues much at all and sometimes I just look at him in confusion.

The two of us see the world so extraordinarily different. The two of us feel and experience the world so extraordinarily different. We almost come from two entirely different worlds, but yet we sit here in the same room together, talk together, and connect. It baffles me a bit but honestly, seeing that level of connection in the world really makes me question and think about how detatched I have always been and does make me wonder if this is *really* the state I want to be in forever.

I’d really like to genuinely feel connected to and part of the world and to have it be so immersive that it is hard to think of stuff like an alternative universe or coming from a different plane of existence.

Once in a while I have actually been a bit grounded, a bit connected, and I was just baffled by it all. I felt like a newborn deer looking at a leaf for the first time. I rarely can maintain it but its honestly really something that intrigues me.

Anyways, I’m just rambling, if you have similar experiences or thoughts to this, I’d love to hear!

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 3

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2.9k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

Still sleeping on only a mattress slowly took its toll on your back. You woke up at least three times a night. Twice because of your back and once because of some knocking against the wall. Every time that happened, it was in another rhythm how knuckles tried to keep you from sleeping.

For a while you observed how the morning sunshine dipped your room in a warm orange. Dust particles were dancing through the air and made their way to the floor. There was something about waking up to the sun on weekday mornings you never were able to enjoy during your semesters. Summer break was perfect for that.

That comforting silence didn’t last forever, though. Low knocking echoed from the other side of the room. You turned your body to face it. That rhythm was new. Different than those in the middle of the night. You paid attention.

Short, long. Short, long, long. Short, long. Long, short, long. Short. Short, short, long, long, short, short.

AWAKE?

You blankly stared at the wall and couldn’t believe it. During your childhood you had done the weirdest things, such as learning the morse code, to keep you occupied. Had Eric done that too? Or did he use a chart to knock you with little messages out of your sleep?

You didn’t care. You just wanted some little more peace before getting up. So you responded.

Short, short, short. Short, short, short, short. Short, short, long. Long. Short, short, long. Short, long, long, short.

There was a small laughter to be heard from the other side of the wall but then it stayed quiet.

Even though Eric’s teasing was quiet disturbing, you still rather lived here than back with your ex. You could somehow handle Eric whereas you never really knew what to expect from your ex after breaking up with him. After all it had not been the funniest of times.

You grabbed the nearest shorts and rummaged through the pockets to find a paper. Hilbert’s ninth problem. You focused on that. Until you heard Eric’s door making that cracking open sound. His foot steps trailed to the kitchen and when the coffee machine made its ‚PING‘ to signal it was ready to brew, you got up yourself and out of your room.

Eric didn’t say ‚good morning‘ so neither did you.

Reaching out for the shelf to grab a cup, you once again didn’t reach it. He leaned over, almost right into you with his bare chest – why did he never wear shirts in the mornings? – and grabbed two cups from the shelf. Eric placed them right next to the coffee machine and then turned, crossed his arms and just stared at you.

First, his intense eyes locked with yours. There was no way you could possibly guess what he was thinking with the harsh face he was wearing. Eric’s slightly pinched eyes made you lose some of your self esteem, though. His unapologetic stares weren’t that new to you, but only wearing your sleeping attire, a tank top and some sleeping shorts, made you feel insecure when his glance diverted to the rest of your body. You crossed your arms to have some little cover at least.

„Where’s everyone at?“ You asked, trying to fill that damn awkward silence. The apartment was empty, with all of the doors open.

„Don’t know.“

Another ‚PING‘ chimed. You walked around Eric, since he was still occupied with weirdly staring into your face, and poured some coffee into a cup. You hesitated to put back the pot into the machine and actually poured coffee into the second cup as well. Then you quickly grabbed your cup and went out to sit on the balcony. Gladly, you noticed him leaving for his room.

A morning coffee, a refreshing shower and an after shower coffee later, you continued with the study. You finally had found a way to properly lock the bathroom from the inside. The trick was to just drag your chair across the hallway and slam it under the door handle. That worked just fine. Unpleasant was, though, that there was not much that had to be done for the study today. No new data yet, still you tried to blindly swim around the model and work on some problems you weren’t able to solve yet. Free time wasn’t your favorite thing to have during summer break, especially not this summer break. You were still a little peeved that your friends had just abandoned you on the day of you moving. So meeting up with them wasn’t on your to do list for this summer.

Neither was visiting your parents since they were living out of state. You didn’t really want to head down to the hell the Florida Keys were in summer. It would be even hotter than here in Chicago. None of your hobbies sounded appealing enough to you today and all your roommates were gone. Except for one.

The only thing on your to do list was to buy a new bed frame.

„Shouldn’t you be out and do something instead of constantly crouching over your desk?“ Again, he leaned in the doorframe and you didn’t know for how long Eric was already there.

„Can’t,“ you were actually tracking down a possible solution and couldn’t be bothered to concentrate on anywhere else than your calculations.

„What is it that’s so important?“ It was the first time he entered your room. You noticed him move out of the corner of your eye and sensed him coming to a stop right next to you. He must’ve checked your computer screen and the papers in front of you. You couldn’t really care, though. Whenever one of those problem-solving-trains hit, you just physically couldn’t stop yourself. „Is that professor Matthews’ study?“

„Yep,“ you mumbled.

„I heard about it, tried to get in but that didn’t work out.“ His voice had a tone you had never heard before. „What’s your part in it?“ Was it honest interest?

„I’m responsible, with others of course, for the mathematical model. But please shut up for a few second okay? I’m almost done.“ You tried to talk and still follow your train of thoughts. „Just need to get it out of the brain.“

Eric stayed surprisingly silent while your hand was still moving around your desk, fishing for various papers and scribbling onto them in the illegible handwriting of yours.

You threw the pencil away, once you were mainly done with bringing the theory on paper. „So what do you wanna know?“ You asked and turned around in the same moment. That Eric had kneeled down next to you had escaped your attention. You blinked at him, his face only a couple of inches away. That this proximity suddenly slowed up your pulse confused you. He was too close. Way too close. You leaned back in your chair and swallowed.

Eric on the other hand didn’t seem to be uncomfortable at all. „How did you get in?“

„They asked, actually.“

„They asked?“ His eyebrows raised themselves to the top of Willis Tower.

„Yes.“ You replied, a little unsure of why that would be so odd. Back during high school there was this hype your teachers made about your mathematical skills. But that wasn’t reason for you to think that you were some wunderkind like Einstein or something. You just liked math. Like some people actually did. Not many, but those in your major all had similar experiences during their childhood and school time. So of course, when they had asked you to join the study, you accepted.

Eric let himself sink against the wall next to your makeshift desk. It was the first time you ever saw something like true recognition radiating off of him. And he didn’t hide it. He wanted to know more. He questioned a lot about the study and your part in it. He was interested in how math helped with a clinical study and it slowly dawned on you why he might’ve taken all those classes of yours. Those were all about adapting math in a way to help solve social orientated problems.

After having to compete with him for the upper hand in those stupid debates, you were a little gleeful that it was you who took part in professor Matthews’ study.

This conversation was everything but a discussion. And you found that it could be really enjoyable to have a decent talk with him. You even offered to put in a good word for him at the next meeting with the staff. No clue where this came from, though.

„Hey, Eric?“ The two of you had changed from your room to the dining table because of the close-by coffee refuels. „Would you do me a favor?“

He was currently getting the freshly brewed pot and nodded to the empty cup in your hands so he could refill it. You handed it to him. „What kind of favor?“

„I need a car,“ you stated, instantly noticing the disdain on his face. „Only for a couple of hours. Not long.“

Eric shook his head. „I’m not lending my car.“ He returned the hot cup and sat down across from you. „I can drive you, though,“ Eric added.

That took you by surprise. „Oh.“ You hadn’t thought he would give his car to you in the first place anyway. Wondering where this kindness suddenly came from left you without an answer. But you decided to accept it. „Okay.“

/////

Eric’s mission was to try every single bed in the furniture store. You tried to explain it didn’t really matter anyways since you already had a mattress. He insisted on still laying down and pulled you along with him. „A new bed,“ he said, „must meet many requirements. Not only the coziness factor of the mattress.“ His voice was a whisper next to you. That low rasp in it drew your attention to his full lips, perfectly framed by the stubble he rarely cared to shave.

Finding yourself laying in a bed next to Eric, even if it was in a furniture store and on full public display, weirdly quickened your pulse again. The way his fingers randomly touched your thigh made you nervous. He probably didn’t even notice, or cared, that his hand was in contact with the bare skin below your shorts. Still, it let your insecurities flame up again. Laying next to a perfectly built and defined man like him brought back memories you rather wanted to escape.

„That’s not the one,“ you quickly stated and rolled out of bed. There was no paper in your pockets this time, and it wasn’t the right place anyway, to distract your brain with. Instead you concentrated on the multiple bed frames. It was a tough task – nothing really suited your taste.

„How about that one, Y/N?“ Eric had been shouting through the whole store. You turned and saw him laying in a child’s bed – car shape.

The view of his legs sticking out on the bed end, because he was simply too tall for it, made you laugh out loud. You couldn’t hold it back nor lower the volume. By the time you reached him, he had joined in on the banter. Next to the car shaped bed was a pink unicorn one. He sat on it and said you could have his bed, he would buy this one. Your laughter increased.

„You think I wouldn’t buy it?“

You shook your head, biting back the laughter.

Eric got up and looked around for a salesman. When he spotted one, he raised his hand to wave him over but you were quick to grab his hand and pull it down. „Stop it!“ For a moment too long you held onto his hand. It caused both of you to look down at your hands like they weren’t attached to your arms and had a mind to themselves. Then your eyes slowly moved up to Eric’s and locked with them. Both of you probably tried to find a reason as to why your hands were still holding onto each other. When Eric’s fingers tried to intertwine with yours, you suddenly realised that you were holding. his. hand.

You instantly let it go like you burned yourself and went back to search for a bed frame. The urge to get out of here made you choose a random but simple bed frame. The salesman Eric had wanted to wave over was now at your side to take your order.

You went with him to the check out desk, Eric quietly following the two of you, and paid for your new bed. The salesman printed out some papers, stapled them together and handed them over. „The pick up station is three blocks down the street.“ He pointed to the left of the exit.

„Thank you.“ Grabbing the papers, you headed to leave, Eric ahead of you and holding the door open.

„Have fun with the new bed,“ the salesman inappropriately winked at the two of you on your way out. When your brain processed his remark, a heat in your face rose. To your luck, Eric was walking in front of you to his car and you tried to make the heat go away by fanning your face with the papers. You didn’t understand why all of this made you feel so… weird.

The short ride to the warehouse was silent. Even with the radio on. Eric waited in the car when it came to a stop on the lot. You got out to turn in the papers and get the bed.

The sun was blazing down while you waited for the employee to return with the package. You caught Eric staring in your direction but with the sunglasses on you couldn’t see what possibly was going on his brain. But to be fair, you couldn’t even pinpoint that when he wasn’t wearing sunglasses.

„Here you go.“ A trolley with two big packages was pushed next to you. If that would fit into Eric’s muscle car? You weren’t so sure about that.

As you turned around to wave at him, he was already at your side. Was he a cat? Or why was he always able to sneak up so quietly?

He probably saw the concern on your face because he just said ‚we got this’ and pushed the trolley over to his car. Eric suggested to remove the packaging so you could play Tetris and fit everything in. That worked pretty well and you were soon ready to head home.

It was Eric who tried to remove that awkward mood between you. He just started chatting about a new group of penguins in the zoo. That he usually went there once a week since the entrance was free and that he did it to stay grounded in stressful times. A while ago he adopted a penguin called Smartie. Him being so open about something not study related was surprising but even more surprising was that he basically invited you to join him some time to go and see the new ‚kids‘ as he called them.

Back home you carried all parts of the bed up to the third story. Eric left to find a proper parking space for his car and you started on building up the bed frame. The instruction must’ve been somewhere attached to the packaging you left at the warehouse because you couldn’t find it. That wasn’t too much a problem, though. Studying the parts you had for a second, you figured out a plan and already started putting pieces together when you noticed Eric, silently of course, appearing in your doorframe.

„I’ll help you,“ he offered. It didn’t sound much like an offer, though. More like a fact.

It didn’t take long with his help to build up the bed, place in the slatted frame and lift the mattress on top of it. You didn’t really have a plan where to put the bed but for some reason Eric convinced you to position it at the exact same spot your mattress had laid before.

„Thank you for your help.“ You sat down on your new bed and checked if it didn’t break with the first contact. It didn’t.

Eric’s lips parted and he wanted to say something. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he wanted to say something else when everything that came out was a sharp ‚Sure‘.

Before you could ask him if he’d like a beer, just to be polite after him helping you all day, he made a beeline for his room. And stayed there.

/////

He didn’t come out for dinner and you decided you didn’t care. When you finally crashed that night, after having multiple board game showdowns with Will, you instantly knew that you’d sleep well. The bed was super comfy. Eric had been right, the mattress only didn’t do the thing, everything had to match up.

You didn’t even check your phone anymore, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

A gentle knock came from the other side of the wall. You turned to it and listened.

Long, long, short. Long, short. GN. Good night? Those two knocked letters brought a faint smile to your lips you couldn’t fight. You returned the same knocks and fell asleep. Smiling.

/////

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld • @dosentier • @dhunhdchrih

Wanna get tagged too for future updates? Lemme know 🖤

[hekatekun]

The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be. 

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else. 

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development. 

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.

[cultifi]

Hey~ okay so this request is based on a story I read about online. But basically the female is on her period (but she doesn’t realize yet ) and it seeps through her pants so she has a blood stain now. Could I request Bakugou or Todoroki seeing the stain and trying to be lowkey about helping her cover up so she isn’t embarrassed? Idk if that makes sense. Also I wanted to ask what fandoms/characters you write for. Idk if it’s annoying always writing about Bakugou, but he’s my comfort character so 😭 sorry.

Covering - Bakugo x (fem)reader

prompt: Bakugo sees that you had started your period and helps you out

genre: fluff

-actual plot of the request starts at ‘keep reading’ button-

“Come on! I promise it will be fun,” Mina begged you as she flopped onto your bed, sprawled out, “it’s only for the weekend anyways.” She had been trying to convince you to spend the weekend with her and a couple of other friends at Momo’s beach house which wasn’t far away from where you lived, but the thought of being trapped with people for more than a day irritated you just thinking about it. Mina just kept pleading for you to go.

“If I come, you have to...” you stated as you looked thought of a compromise that would benefit both you the most, “...do my homework for a week!” Mina’s mouth dropped open as she looked at you in disbelief. She hung her head down and muttered a small,

“Fine.”

Friday afternoon came around and when you arrived at the beach house with Mina and Momo you finally saw who you would be spending the weekend with, Deku, Todoroki and Bakugo. 3 boys, 3 girls. You all headed inside and set your luggage down near the entrance, admiring how spacious and clean the house was, like no one had ever stepped foot in it. “Woah...” you whispered in amazement when you had seen that Momo’s description of the house was nowhere near accurate, claiming it was “just a regular beach house.” 

“This place is huge!” Mina exclaimed and threw herself on the enormous leather sofa placed in the middle of the living room, which was the centre of the beach house. “Honestly Momo, you really downplayed how big this place is.” After exploring the large, almost sparkling clean house, everyone discussed sleeping arrangements. despite it being a huge house, the only thing it lacked was a decent amount of bedrooms; there were 2, but fortunately they were quite big, so everyone had decided that the girls would room together and the boys would do the same.

The sky grew darker before anyone realised how late it had gotten so everyone headed to their designated sleeping rooms. Since the rooms were quite large, there were conveniently three beds in different areas of the room, the middle being empty. “Dibs!” Mina shouted and catapulted herself onto the bed directly opposite the door, even though the were all basically the same size (hers was a little bigger but that’s besides the point). All three of you prepared yourselves for bed as you slid into the cool covers, having light conversation until Momo asked you a question about him. 

“I noticed Bakugo looking at you a lot today,” she teased as her and Mina both giggled, “I think he has a crush on you!” You felt heat rise up to your cheeks when you started thinking about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him so you pulled the covers up to your face and protested against Momo’s idea. 

You woke up to Mina and Momo jumping on your bed which made you want to dropkick them but you restrained yourself, putting your pillow over your head. “Fine, I’ll get up,” you complained and threw your pillow at Mina who was jumping with such vigour that you might think she was trying to create a dent in the bed frame.

“Let’s wake the boys up,” Mina suggested with a smirk and whispered something to Momo, both giggling and making you feel confused. “Okay so I’ll wake up Deku, you wake up Bakugo and Momo will wake up Todoroki. We’ll just jump on their beds until they get up.” The evil scheme was soon in motion.

You approached the door of their room and carefully twisted the handle, making sure to not create any disturbances. You pushed the door open and looked at all the boys sleeping peacefully. It wasn’t going to be peaceful for much longer.You each took your places and on the count of three flew onto the beds.

“Wake up!” you shouted and jumped onto Bakugo’s bed, bouncing up and down as though it was a trampoline.

“Shut up,” he mumbled tiredly and grabbed onto your ankle, making you stumble and fall onto him in a bit of an interesting position, staring at each other awkwardly. You looked down to realise that you were straddling Bakugo and that he also wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath his pyjama bottoms. His eyes widened and told you to move, but flinched slightly when you finally did, pulling the covers over his lower half. He put his head in his hands and shouted at all of you to ‘get the fuck out.’ You hurried out of the room in embarrassment, Mina and Momo following you as you cursed to yourself.

“What just happened?” Mina asked you worriedly as she closed the door behind her. You told her about the ‘situation’ which was currently being taken care of by Bakugo in the bathroom. “I think he’ll be fine in a bit, don’t worry about it,” she advised you and hugged you lightly and suggested that we all go to the beach, your stomach had been hurting, but you ignored it and agreed.

Later on, after having swam in the salty water and played volleyball with everyone, Mina’s words had proved to be true, Bakugo wasn’t angry, he actually looked like he was having fun, especially when Deku tripped and got a face full of sand. You were all hungry at this point and decided you would go to a restaurant near the beach house, it wasn’t anything fancy so you just decided to wear light blue denim overalls accompanied by a black belt with a white short sleeved crop top.

You ignored the aching in your lower stomach since you thought it was probably just because you were hungry and tied up your hair into a ponytail. “You ready?” Momo asked as she picked up her phone and purse.

“Yea.”

The dinner actually turned out to be really enjoyable with everyone there, you honestly thought it was going to be chaotic but you managed to have fun. When the sky started turning a dark orange colour and you realised it was getting late, and you all were tired from the day’s activities.

“Alright let’s go back,” everyone agreed and made their way out of the restaurant. As you were walking you saw Bakugo drop his phone and went to get it after realising it wasn’t in his pocket anymore, falling behind the group slightly as you all walked by knowing he’d catch up anyways.

“Hey, um...” he walked up besides you holding out his zip up hoodie, “wrap it around your waist, there’s kind of a problem,” he whispered to you and you suddenly realised why your stomach had been hurting the whole day. Shit. You endured the pain as the cramps kicked in conveniently when you were close the the beach house, not wanting to get any weird looks from strangers. “You okay?” Bakugo asked, acting as though he didn’t really care, you nodded and smiled feebly keeping yourself from crouching down into a little ball.

Once you all arrived home the first thing you did was run towards the shower because you just wanted to clean up and have a shower quickly to relax your muscles after having been in pain for so long. As soon as the hot water hit your shoulders it felt as though the stress melted out of them and you stood there for a minute, enjoying the sauna-like atmosphere the nearly boiling hot shower was creating. It really did help your stomach cramps.

Grabbing the vanilla scented body wash, you remembered that Bakugo had seen the period stain but luckily didn’t make it obvious to everyone and he was actually subtle about it. You pushed your hair out of your face and sighed, feeling the embarrassment wash away as you realised it shouldn’t be something to be ashamed of. Steamed followed you when you stepped out of the shower and you noticed Bakugo’s hoodie hanging on the door, deciding you should probably give it back.

You walked into the living room to see he was the only one there, sitting on the plain leather couch, staring at whatever was on the huge tv. “Hey,” you greeted him and sat down besides him, handing him his hoodie, “thanks for helping me out, here, it’s clean.” He took the hoodie and placed it on the arm of the sofa, getting up to retrieve something since he told you to wait there. You did as you were told and waited patiently until he came back with a handful of snacks and a hot water bottle, accompanied by a cup of chamomile tea ‘to relax you’. “Um, what is this for?” You asked him, confused as to why he was being so nice.

“You’re on your period right? So I thought it would help if I brought some snacks. The tea might help with the cramps, that’s what my mom told me to do when a girl is on her period,” he said nervously and laid the snacks down next to you, scratching the back of his neck. You smiled at him and took the tea, placing it down on the coffee table in front of you and happily took the hot water bottle, shoving it under your shirt to soothe your stomach. You noticed him still looking at you and you smiled.

“Could you stay here?” He looked surprised for a second and grabbed a soft throw blanket to cover the two of you, putting on a movie to watch as you opened a bag of gummy bears and got closer to him, not noticing the blush you had caused to spread across his cheeks.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

(1/2) isn't it hypocritical of you to pick on cql fans for their purposeful misreading of canon (which some do, i'm not denying that at all) and then turn around and do that to someone who hasn't said anything critical of mdzs? that person was just listing the merits of each adaptation and you just tore into them as if them saying that cql has any merits at all is an insult to mdzs.

2/2 for example, you pick on the three bows thing, but that is novel canon too and cql shows multiple instances of people bowing in respect only twice, so it's not insanely far-fetched that the three bows are read as an acknowledgement of their marital status. anyway, you're perfectly free to see it as bows of respect, but there's little need to ridicule someone who says they see it differently and that they like cql because of it.

3/2 and i'm sorry if i'm taking too much of your time, i guess i'm a little upset because i've always seen you as a voice of reason in the fandom. to see you make multiple posts tearing down what is an uncontroversial statement (that canon and all adaptations have their own merits, and people shouldn't be judged for preferring one over the other) is a bit hurtful. you say you don't hate cql, but you certainly seem eager to shit on anyone who has anything nice to say about it? 

Hi anon,

I’m not sure I’d consider it hypocritical. I don’t think I’ve ever operated with the caveat that I should only be critical of the arguments of people who have been critical of the book in turn--I guess the baseline is that I am critical of all things I come across. I am not likewise sure I’ve “torn down” into that person or “ridiculed” them. I’ve quoted one part “all adaptations are equally good” and said (yes, as per usual, in a bitter and pretentious tone): “at least take the subjective route of equally enjoyable”. I don’t see how that’s being extremely mean about cql: my view was more that it irks me, for a lack of a better word, that people truly just push aside all the very real issues at a technical level (aside from anything that has to do with the writing or creative choices) that prevents cql, imo, to be considered comparable to other adaptations like the audio drama or the donghua even if it is not my particular cup of tea--but that this does not mean I said that c/ql cannot be enjoyable. I guess I have my issues with people generally being unable to distinguish with a well-made piece of fiction versus one they enjoyed. And that I am still a little bit flabbergasted that it remains a controversial statement to explain that c/ql, despite trying very hard, has many issues that directly impact it’s ability to stand as a well-made tv series.

Then, I think a few days later, I showed the arguments being leveraged by that same person to argue c/ql was just as good or what it ‘brought’ to the table that the other adaptations didn’t (partly because they were representative of many others I had encounter) and ‘responded’ to them one by one underlining how I was left unconvinced by them. I mentioned how one argument in favour (it includes more emotional scenes of wwx crying and being angry) could be read as a failure of the adaptation to stay true to the characterisation of the main character, who is textually said to rarely cry or get angry. I questioned whether it was such a “win” for c/ql to include more scenes of wq and jyl considering how we can infer why this change too place, and how it focuses on a quantitative reading--it’s less a ‘the book handled female characters sooooo much better’ argument than a a ‘we’re really going to give kudos to a tv series because we saw the female characters more often, regardless of how this impacts their characterisation, agency and impact on the story on a narrative and thematic level or why this change likely was made?’.

Then, the three bows thing. I won’t pretend to be an expert here, but my understanding which has come from discussion with Chinese or chinese-diasporic people, is that the third bow must be to one another (bow to the heaven and earth 一拜天地, to the parents 二拜高堂, then to each other 夫妻对拜). We can consider the three bows a wink-wink from the production team because that was the best they could do in the circumstances, maybe. But can we say that these can really be read as an “acknowledgement of their marital status”? It’s different from the novel because wwx talks about reserving that third bow to one another for later. This relates as well to the way fandom have sort of exaggerated aspects of CQL due to misunderstanding certain cultural or linguistic aspects of it, as we have with people being convinced zhiji must always be a grand romantic declaration. Is it a crime to choose to interpret/headcanon these things that way? Of course not. But does it make for good arguments to argue c/ql brought something special to the table that the other works didn’t? I don’t think so.

Overall, I won’t pretend I don’t have a very bitter and pretentious way of phrasing things but I do wonder if that’s where I consider it gets into ‘ridiculing’ territory--I didn’t call them names or anything, I just responded to their points. But the truth is, as you might think that I am targeting that person, whoever they are, for ‘liking c/ql,’ that’s just how I am in general, about all things: I am critical of any arguments I hear and I have no filter. I’m actually trying to be courteous by keeping my responses to my blog, not reblogging from their posts, cutting off the person’s profile picture or name, etc. because in any case more often than not they simply represent to me an illustrative example. Hell, I even get to re-read how I worded things which makes them come out way better than in real life.

You can of course consider that I was out of line! Perhaps it is the pitfall of considering a person a certain thing. Even if you think of someone a “voice of reason” you might also consider that some of the stuff they do or say is a little bit unreasonable. We all draw lines differently. Just because you generally agree with someone does not mean some of the stuff they say or do won’t make you shake your head in disapproval. And if you dislike these posts of mine but still want to stay for the rest, you can blocklist “brine corner”. Unfortunately, although many have tried to change this, I am an incurable critic who is terminally and brutally honest.

[writtenonreceipts]

I saw this prompt for feysand and i would love to see your take on it - I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in

I've really been enjoying your writing!!❤

AN: I took it and ran, and ran, and kept running.  Thank-you so, SO much for sending it my way!  This was a great prompt that had fun with.  I’m glad you’ve been liking my stuff, it means a lot! ~5.5kwords

TW: Brief talk about death, anxiety, depression, fear.

 Worth It

Seated at a canvas with paints or pencils in hand, Feyre was unstoppable.  She could create landscapes with ease or depict a simple still life and turn it into something far greater.  Art was where she lived.

Not in a basement classroom learning about Prythian history.  

There wasn’t anything wrong with history, especially when it was as rich and vibrant as Prythia.  But talking about wars, treaties, and assassinations could only be discussed for so long.

Of course, it didn’t help that Feyre was dyslexic, but she didn’t talk about that.

She glanced around the room, trying to see if anyone else was as bored as she was.  It was the first day of class and she was the only one not taking extensive notes.  Well, she and a guy at the front of the room.  All Feyre could see was the back of his head.  His hair was dark as midnight and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as he sat at his desk.  He didn’t even have a textbook with him.

Feyre forced herself to pay attention as the Professor finally shut down the slide show presentation.

“Make sure you look of the syllabus,” Dr. Wesson addressed the class.  She was a small woman with rich brown hair and a plain green dress.  “It outlines the schedule of tests and essays.  None of the dates will be altered.  My TA will be at your disposal.” 

Dr. Wesson nodded to the guy with the black hair and gestured for him to stand up.

And just like that, the class was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

He was tall, taller than he’d originally appeared.  His warmly tanned skin made his violet blue eyes bright and eager.  A sly sort of smile traced his mouth as he observed the class.

“Call me Rhysand,” he said, “I’m working on my masters specifically in the historical aspect of how literature was shaped by wars in the land.  I’m always glad to help with your questions.  Just make sure you email me to set something up.”

The girls next to Feyre whispered to each other, exchanging significant looks.  Feyre exchanged a significant look with the amount of reading and writing that was required.

Hell.  It was going to be a long semester.

The class dismissed right at nine o’clock, much to Feyre’s relief.  While most of the students flocked to the front of the room to either gawk at the TA or further discuss issues with the Professor, Feyre left the class.  Already she could feel her dread pooling into anxiety.  Her heart rate quickened and the muscles in her left hand twitched.  

She just needed to get home and sit down with a canvas and paint.

As soon as she made it outside the Humanities Building however, the dread continued to tug at Feyre.  It was far too dark.  With far fewer lights than she’d expected for a college campus.  Or maybe it was because there was a thick layer of clouds sagging down and threatening rain.  

“Feyre!” 

Snapping to attention, Feyre clutched her bag to her chest and found the source of her name.

Her friend, and roommate, Alis waved at her from a path diverging deeper on to campus.  Her dark hair hung in waves down her back and the jacket she wore was flattering against her curves.

Feyre let out a long, releieved breath and plastered a smile on her face.  Quickly, she moved toward her friend.

“Hey,” Feyre greeted and accepted a hug from the smaller girl. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you had a late class,” Alis explained, “and I knew it was with Wesson.  I heard the woman is miserable.  So intense.  But--I mean--you’re going to do great.  Your always so creative with everything I’m sure she’ll love you.  Anyway, I was finishing up buying my books for the semester and thought I’d meet up with you.”

Feyre smiled as Alis spoke, grateful for the small distraction.  Even if it was slightly horrific in thinking about trying to get on a professor’s good-side.

“Thanks,” Feyre said, “I appreciate it.  It was a bit intimidating.”

“I think everyone just likes making freshman miserable,” Alis said.  Alis was technically a junior, but had changed her major four times and couldn’t decide on a minor.  She was not on track to graduate when she’d originally thought, but wasn’t at all concerned.  

Feyre wished she could be more like that than the raging mess she felt she was.

Behind them, leaving the Humanities Building, the TA appeared leading an entire gaggle of girls.

“Let’s go,” Feyre muttered. “I’m exhausted.”

#

By the third week of the semester Feyre came to better understand her relationship with exhaustion.  And it was not a good one.

She was fairly certain her body consisted of ninety percent caffeinated beverages and ten percent hot pockets.  She’d never been one for eating much.  Growing up had always been a struggle in keeping food in the fridge and a decent pair of shoes on her feet.  Feyre knew by now how her body functioned.

It wasn’t healthy, not in the slightest.  And there was a part of her that recognized that.  And another part that ignored it.

Two nights a week, Feyre found herself stuffed in the basement with little enjoyment.  Other than getting to stare and Rhysand when Dr. Wesson turned the class over to him for brief instruction.

And looking at him was enjoyment.  He was far different from any other guy Feyre had encountered.  His hair was kept neat and short sweeping easily back out of his face, a charming smile, and warm brown skin.  Not to mention the tattoos. 

Feyre had never really considered tattoos as being attractive.  Perhaps it was the artistic side of her that couldn’t get enough of them.  On him at least.  The way the black in swirled on his skin and swept up his arms.  It was a shame he never wore short sleeves or unbuttoned one extra cutton at his collar.

Hell.

Mentally shaking herself, Feyre forced herself to pay attention.

Rhysand was discussing scores from the test last week.  And, to put it mildly, was not impressed.  Oh, there was plenty of good to say.  Some of the students were engaged in the topics at hand.  Some of the students displayed an obvious grasp of complicated topics.  Others did not.

Feyre found herself sinking deeper into her seat by the end of class.

He hadn’t called her out by name, but truly--it felt like he had.

“That’s it for today, enjoy the weekend,” Rhysand called out at the tick of nine, “and remember essay proposals are due by the start of class on Tuesday.”

There was a quick rustle of the students getting up and gathering their things.  It was a glorious Thursday evening and Feyre had somehow managed to keep her Friday’s clear of classes.  At least something had gone right.

“Feyre?” She whipped around to meet those stark violet eyes. Hell. “I needed to talk to you about the questions you had on the proposal assignment.”

Feyre bristled.  And not just because some of the girls shot her angry looks for being singled out by the hot TA.  She hadn’t asked any questions.  She was just trying to skate by on this class and be done with her prerequisites so she could get into her Art Major.

She set her bag on the floor once more and went to the front of the class.  Already most of the students were leaving, far too eager to be done with school for the night.

As Rhysand answered a few last questions and dismissed the rest of the students, Feyre approached.�� Already she knew what she was going to say.

“I don’t have any questions.” The words fell from her mouth with ease. “I already know what I’m writing on.”

Lie.  But a well-practiced one.

Rhysand’s mouth curled in a smile.  He hefted a small stack of papers in one hand and leafed through them.  Feyre froze realizing that they were the tests from last week.  He pulled one of the stapled bunches out before setting the rest down.

“Honestly, I was surprised while grading this,” he said, “I mean, you’re obviously smart.  I saw that you were awarded the Starfell Scholarship, not an easy accomplishment.  Not to mention your always engaged and taking notes.”

Feyre wished her skin wasn’t as pale as it was.  Her skin flushed under his scrutiny, but she tilted her chin up and met his gaze.

“And?” she asked. “I take my education seriously.”

Somewhat.  When she actually liked the work.

Rhysand handed her the test.  And she saw the grade.

D.

D.

D.

Hell.

Her stomach churned.  Roiled actually.  Maybe she was going to be sick.  That was just what she needed.

“So?” she asked instead. “It was the first test of the semester.”

“And yours in the only outlier,” he replied.

His eyes never left hers and Feyre felt more and more inclined to throw something at him.  Who was he to talk to her about her grade?  He was just the damned TA.

“Dr. Wesson doesn’t like picking up the slack of grading or talking to students about it all that much,” he continued, literally reading her mind. “I’m just concerned about you falling behind.”

Feyre stiffened and pursed her lips.

“I grew up learning Prythian history, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said stiffly.  

Another lie.  She knew enough that basic education taught and what she’d heard and listened to.  But reading about it?  Her mind couldn’t grasp it.  It had been hard enough getting decent SAT scores to get accepted in the University let alone writing that damned Starfell essay.

“Of course,” Rhysand said slowly.

And Feyre had the sense that he was assessing her.  Analytically, carefully.  In the was that one would size up an opponent or scrutinize a strange recipe.  He was trying to understand her.

Feyre handed him back the test.

“Thanks for the concern,” she said, “but I’ll be fine.”

Perhaps he was just being nice.  Perhaps he was merely trying to fulfill his duties as TA.  But she had seen the way he acted in the class.  At times rebuffing boys and girls alike.  Not to mention seeing him around campus tossing a football around with two other boys.  She’d also seen him get kicked out of the library for a parkour prank challenge.  

In all honesty, Feyre had no idea what to make of him.  And she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

He didn’t seem to believe her.  Not with the crease forming between his brow nor the frown turning down one side of his mouth.  

Well, that was his problem.

“Have a good night,” Feyre said.  She spun on her heel before he could say anything and grabbed her bag and was out the door.  

Once she was outside, she could breathe again.  Strange.  She often found the darkness, the night, to be so suffocating.  It wasn’t long before Feyre realized something was off about the night.  And then she realized.  Alis was nowhere in sight.

Feyre dug her phone out of her pocket and found a missed text.

Sorry chica, caught up at study group.  Probs gonna spend the night at Nuala’s too.  See you tomorrow!

Of all the nights Alis could get serious with her girlfriend.

Feyre swallowed stiffly and stared out over the pavilion that stretched between the humanities building and out to the mathematics building.  A few pathways branched off to different parts of campus and then there was the main one that would take her to the dorms.  And of course, most of the streetlamps were barely flickering to life.

She’d never liked the dark.  Never liked what could hide in the shadows.  Nor what could sneak in silence.  Perhaps it was childish to still hold onto that fear.  She was almost nineteen years old after all. Nearly fifteen years later and here she was.

Feyre’s hands shook as she clutched her phone.  She could call Elain.  Nesta.  Even just to talk to as she walked.  Though Elain lost her phone even when it was in her hand.  And Nesta was at work.  

But it was fine.  Feyre knew it was fine.  Because all she needed to do was walk.  And shed been walking for long enough that putting one step in front of the other was natural.  Easy.  Simple.  Yet here she was.  Standing.

When Rhysand spoke, she didn’t even start.  

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

Myself.  “No.”

Silence.

“It’s getting late.”

“I know.”

Silence.

How strange it was, to hear only the hum of crickets and breath of night.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rhysand asked.  

Feyre glanced at him.  Even in the shadows she could see him clearly.  It was like he was made of night, of dark, of the mysteries that she could never lay her hand on.  She shook her head.  Focus, Feyre.

“Of course I am,” she insisted, a little too sharply. “Maybe I like having time to think.”

“At nine-thirty at night.  Outside the least exciting building on campus.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I heard that last year a group of boys nearly got suspended for trying to host a snowball fight, indoors.” Feyre couldn’t help but grin when she saw how Rhysand flushed.

“Technically, I’m not the one who brought the snowballs inside the building,” he said defensively.

“Oh, no, you’re just the one who built an entire fort in front of the main entrance to the building,” Feyre said.

It had actually been pretty hilarious when she’d heard about it from Alis. It almost made her wish that she'd been around last year instead of taking a year off.

“Technically,” he said again, the word making Feyre’s brow arch, “it was my brother who instigated the fight. He couldn’t let his reign be challenged.”

Feyre snorted a laugh and looked out over the quiet campus. It almost didn't look so dark and cold as she'd thought it had.  But still, she felt her heart continue to hammer out unevenly in her chest.  She couldn't walk home alone. Even the thought of taking one step forward had her clench and unclench a fist over the strap of her bag.

Rhysand continued saying something, but Feyre was only half listening.  She was mostly focused on the thought of walking home.  She could cut through the Science building.  If it was still open.  Or she could full out sprint.

“Are you alright?” Rhysand asked.

Flushing, Feyre pushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded. “Fine, yeah.” She knew she had to ask him.  Knew that it was her only option despite how embarrassed she might feel. “Could you--this is stupid, so you can say no--could you walk with me to the dorms?”

Rhysand was quiet for a moment.  And in that moment Feyre was certain he was going to sneer at her.  Laugh.  Tell her to get over herself.  Just like the others before him.

"Where do you live?" Rhys and asked suddenly, cutting Feyre off before she had the ch

“The dorms on the west side,” she said.

“Alliance Dorms?” Rhysaid confirmed.  When Feyre nodded, he flashed her a small smile. “Absolutely.”

Relief pounded through Feyre.

“If you tell me what the deal was with that test.”

“You’re an ass.”  The words were out before Feyre could stop them.  Not the best thing to say to the TA of a class she was likely going to flunk.

Scowling, more to herself than him, Feyre started walking towards the dorms.  She was a strong confidant woman.  She did not need him to walk her home.

But Rhysand with those damned long legs kept stride with her easily.  And he was laughing.  Feyre was half tempted to knock an elbow in his side for laughing at her, but his next words caught her off guard.

“I like you Feyre,” he said, “you are rather interesting.”

She glanced up at him.  Was he serious?  She’d insulted him.  She’d barely exchanged ten words with him at this point.  And was scared of walking home alone.  Granted it was a valid fear for a young woman on a college campus these days.

“Insane is the better word for it,” she replied, mostly under her breath.  That’s what everyone back home said at least.  In the small town where nothing was supposed to go wrong.  But everything did.

“Interesting, curious, vibrant,” Rhysand listed off. “Far better words I think.”

Feyre had never been good with words.  Like now.  She couldn’t find the energy to respond to him.  There was a spark in his eye that almost challenged her, begged her to continue the banter, the little game.  

She remained silent.

She’d heard it was a far better mask for her to wear anyways.

#

The first paper she turned in for the History class was returned with far too many red marks.  Far too many question marks.  Far too many.  So Feyre merely folded the thing in half and stuffed it in her bag.

She could burn it later.

Dr. Wesson ended the lecture right at nine and dismissed the class.  Feyre had almost disillusioned herself into thinking she could avoid a conversation with the Professor.  With Rhysand.  But just as she was trying to maneuver around the giggling pack of girls that sat next to her, Dr. Wesson’s voice called out for her.

“Oh Miss Archeron, a word please?”

Feyre froze.  She could feign a phone call.  But then next class session the same thing would happen.  So, Feyre braced herself for what was to come and went to the front of the class.

As usual, Rhysand looked perfectly unruffled.  Despite the fact that Fall was quickly slipping into the winter months, he still wore a simple black button up tucked into slacks, the sleeves rolled up.

“Feyre,” Dr. Wesson said as she approached, she reached out a hand and gave Feyre a firm pat on the arm. “I know Rhysand spoke to you last week about your test.  I wanted to follow up, especially in seeing how this essay went.  Now, there is still plenty of time left in the semester, but I worry you aren’t grasping the things you should be.”

Blood pounded in Feyre’s ears.  She could hear her heart beat throb, feel it in her veins.  Her entire body flushed with embarrassment, stress, horror.  Everything bubbled to the surface even though she’d tried so hard to tamp it down.

She tried to open her mouth but found her teeth were grinding together so bad that her jaw hurt.

“I think,” Dr. Wesson continued, “that you would benefit from spending a bit of extra time with Rhysand.  Just to make sure you’re where you need to be in the class.”

Feyre found herself nodding and agreeing.  Her voice was relaxed, calm even.  But far too close to breaking.

After thanking the Doctor for her uncharacteristic kindness, Feyre stared and the poorly erased whiteboard over Rhysand’s shoulder for a long moment.  With a slow exhale she finally met his gaze.

Rhysand met her eyes with such intensity that Feyre nearly lost her breath all over again.  She shook it off and rolled her shoulders.

“Shall we get started tonight?” she asked. “Or I’m sure you have plans.”

“Nah, only kicking Cassian’s ass at Mario Cart,” Rhysand replied.  He flashed her an innocent sort of smile.  Feyre wasn’t sure if it was one out of kindness or mockery of some sort.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and stuck it out for him. “Just give me your number and I’ll let you know when’s a good time to study.”

Rhysand hesitated on a moment before accepting the phone and adding his details.  As soon as she got her phone back, Feyre changed his name from Rhys to Prick.  It seemed to fit better.

“It’s not a big deal you know,” Rhysand said.  

He followed Feyre out of the classroom.  His steps were confident against the carpet that had to be at least thirty years old.  Truly Rhysand was an enigma with his ease, grace, and elegance when pitted against the drab interior of the Humanities Building.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Feyre said.

Once outside, the cold night air nipped at her skin and even through her jacket she could feel goosebumps rise.  Just like the night last week, Feyre waited just outside the building doors.  She stared into the night; across the courtyard she could see a few pale lights from the Math Building.  None of the lampposts had been fixed which left most of the walkways in shadows.

Nothing about the night was out of place.  It was calm, still, and everything lingered on Feyre’s mind.  And just like last week, Rhysand waited beside her.

Overhead, Feyre could just make out the stars.  Only a thin veil of clouds hung over the sky allowing a small bit of freedom to pierce her heart.  But not enough.

“Could you walk with me again?” she asked quietly, unable to look at Rhysand.

“Only if you talk to me this time,” he said.  That cheeky grin returning.  And despite how much she hated it, it put Feyre at ease.

“Fine.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and began walking. “What made you pick history?  There had to be something else.  You don’t seem the type for old stuffy books or maps.”

“And who do you peg me for, Feyre?” His voice was practically a purr.

“High and mighty sitting behind a desk,” she replied drily. “Running some company somewhere.  You certainly have the personality for it.”

He laughed unamused. “If my father had any say in the matter.  A degree in history only puts off the inevitable.”

“That’s a rather bleak look on things,” Feyre said.  It sounded like something she would say.

“Only if I didn’t enjoy what I was learning so much,” he said.  In the flickering light of the lamps, they walked beneath, Rhysand’s expression brightened. “Between the wars and legends surrounding what shaped the country...it’s always been curious to see what we became.  What we can become.”

His response seemed so honest, so genuine, that Feyre nearly stumbled.  She barely knew him, had barely spent any time with him, yet she was beginning to feel that she knew him.

“So you devote all your time and attention to it?” Feyre asked.

They passed by the last of the campus buildings.  A brisk wind scattered fallen leaves on the sidewalks and crunched under their steps as they walked.

“Don’t you have something you love?  Something that you feel has changed you and you’d never want to give it up?”

A box of paints.  Brushes that she’d had since she was ten.  A canvas only half finished.  She’d thought she could complete the image but it had been almost a year since she’d even looked at it.  But art…art had changed her.  Art had loved her just as she loved it.

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted.  Tilting her chin up, Feyre caught sight of a small patch of stars amid the inky black sky.  Dim but shining still. “There’s always something.”

If he heard the sadness in her voice, he said nothing.  Which was partially surprising, but Feyre would roll with it.

“The tutoring,” Rhysand began.

“No,” Feyre cut him off.  “Not right now.”

“So you’re just going to ignore your problems?”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Seems to be.”

Feyre stopped causing him him to move a few steps ahead of her.  When he turned back towards her, he waited.  

“I’ll admit to needing a little extra help to help my tests and essays, but I don’t see what else you’d need to know.”

“It’s alright to talk,” Rhysand paused, something else on the cusp of behind heard.  But he restrained, his voice trailing off softly.

Feyre ignored the comment.  Talking had never been her strong suit.  She was more of action.  Less idle, more work.  Ever since she was a child it had been that way.  She knew why, of course.  It was obvious when she thought about it.  So she never thought about it.

“What are you planning on studying?” Rhysand asked when she made no effort to continue on the topic of her test.

“Art,” she replied immediately. “I’m an artist.  But my sister wanted me to get more of an education that could support me.  So I’m just working on my prerequisites.”

“Art,” he repeated.  There was a lilt to his voice as if he really were actually interested in what she was saying. “Sketching?  Sculpture?”

“Paint and canvas,” Feyre said.  “Since I was little.  After my mom died, my sister bought me my first set of brushes and paint and everything I could need.  She was only nine.  I think she stole my dad’s credit card to do it.”

The reality of that had Feyre laughing softly, but Rhysand gave her look that was a mix of horror and confusion.

“It’s fine,” Feyre said quickly, “I’m fine.”

It was a lie of course.  If she really were fine, she wouldn't have asked him to walk her home.  She would better know how to control her fears, her anxiety.  She would be happy.

“My mother died ten years ago,” Rhysand told her, his voice quiet and contemplative. “She’d been sick for a while and we knew it was coming.  But for a ten-year-old boy, it was hard to understand.  My father certainly didn’t.  Still doesn’t.”

They reached Feyre’s dorms then, floodlights illuminated the front street and made it seem as though it were day.  Feyre turned toward him and found herself smiling, just barely.

“Thank-you,” she said sincerely.  “And I’m sorry you have to be a part of the dead mother’s club.”

“You too,” he said.

Feyre wondered if there was something else she should say.  Wondered if he would even want to hear it.  It was strange, that little flame of comradery that she felt towards him.  But it was gone in an instant as Alis came running out from the building.

“Feyre!  Get inside, it’s movie night!”

Shaking her head, Feyre offered Rhysand a small wave and headed into the dorms.

#

With three weeks until the next paper was due in that miserable class, Feyre spent her free time studying with Rhysand.  It wasn’t as miserable as she’d been expecting it to be.  Not when she realized he was far more laid back than she’d assumed.  And then she’d met his best friends who were essentially like his brothers.

It was far easier to study in the relaxed environment that Rhysand created.  And far easier to be herself around him.  Of course, it had taken Feyre a while to decide that maybe they could be friends.  

“Summarize what the chapter from last night’s reading discussed,” Rhysand said one night as they were studying.  It was well after ten o’clock but they’d been given permission to stay in the building.  

Feyre pursed her lips.  She’d done the reading of course.  As well as she’d been able.  Most of had been hard to understand.  No matter how she tried to focus or train her mind, her dyslexia always got in the way.

“Right,” Feyre said slowly. “It was about the last king of Hybern.”

“And?” Rhysand prodded.

“And he was a jerk,” Feyre added.  

Rhysand’s fixed her with a look.  Long and hard but still underlined with compassion.

“Feyre,” he said, just a bit more seriousness to his voice.

She sighed heavily and tugged at the sleeve of her shirt. “I read it.  I just didn’t understand it.”

Silence.

Feyre shot him a scowl but didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m dyslexic.  And History tends to be a bit harder for me to understand.”

Rhsand blinked.  Once.  But nothing else.  No laugh or scoff of scorn.  Instead, he smiled and pushed to text book toward her.

“Then read.”

“Read?”

“Aloud, preferably,” Rhysand said.  He shrugged. “You want to be ready for the paper and subsequent test?”

“Prick,” she muttered.  But she dragged the book towards her and began.

It became habit.  A rhythm they fell into for the next several weeks.  Rhysand helped Feyre study and prepare for the paper, the test.  He walked her home, remaining the perfect gentleman.  And Feyre, Feyre relished the time.

It was because he was genuine.  Honest.  There was something about him, deeper than the intensity he displayed on the outside.  And for the first time in a while, Feyre found herself laughing with him.  For the first time in a while, she was living for more than just expectations.

He was actually turning into her friend and it was strange thought indeed.

“Alright students,” Dr. Wesson announced towards the end of class on the last day before Thanksgiving break. “I have your midterm tests and papers graded.  So now you can either relax or stress even further.  Depending on the grade.”

A weak laugh bubbled around the room.  Feyre gripped the underside of her chair tightly.  She wasn’t ready for this.  Not in the slightest.

Dr. Wesson slowly made her way around the room delivering both test and paper.  Feyre, by some stroke of cosmic affair, didn’t get her paper until last and the entire room was empty aside from Dr. Wesson and Rhysand.  Why was it they always ended up here?

“Well done, Miss Archeron,” Dr. Wesson said.  She handed two packets of paper to Feyre and smiled. “I love to see improvement.”

Gaping, Feyre looked between the two grades.  Heart hammering, she looked over the scores, brilliant red B’s shined up at her.

“I don’t usually offer extra credit,” the doctor went on, “but an exhibit is coming to the University about the Prythian Wall and it’s destruction.  If you can come up with a project to demonstrate what it entails, I might be convinced to help you keep your grade up.”

Feyre could only nod as the professor bid them goodnight and left.

“Well done.”

Feyre looked up to see Rhysand beaming at her and she couldn’t help but grin.  She leapt out of her seat and flung her arms around him in an embrace.

“Thank-you!” she whispered.  It took her perhaps a moment too long to realize that a hung might not have been the best of plans.  She hurriedly pulled back. “Sorry.  That was uncalled far.  I’m just really excited.”

“As you should be,” Rhysand said.  His smile hadn’t dimmed but there was something in his eyes that Feyre couldn’t quite read. “It wasn’t an easy test.”

“And now we have a full week off for Thanksgiving,” she said.  It was the best news she could have been given after getting her grades back.

“If you want,” Rhysand said, “my brother’s and cousin and I are having a game night, with pizza.  If you want to come.”

A spark of excitement ignited in Feyre’s chest.  She didn’t know when she’d developed a stupid little crush on Rhysand, but it was slowly starting to simmer out of control.  She should have said no.  Or come up with an excuse of some kind.  Insead she found herself nodding.

“I’d like that,” she said.

They collected their things and left the building.  Feyre took a few steps down the path they usually took to get to her dorm when she paused.  She turned back to Rhysand and frowned.

“Where do you live?”

Rhysand looked a little sheepish.  “Oh, I live over in the Court Apartments.”

Feyre blinked. “That’s in the complete opposite direction from my place.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been walking me home for practically a month.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Feyre asked, practically waving her hands in the air.  “It’s basically a two-mile walk from my place.”

Rhysand shrugged. “You asked for help and I wanted to give it.”

Feyre stared at him.  Her coat and scarf bunched around her neck, even though the night was perfectly clear.  It was clear enough that she could see the billions of stars overhead.  She could see them sparking in the black night.  And for one she wasn’t overcome with her usual anxiety.  Her usual fears.  Instead, all she would do was stare at Rhysand.

“Why would you do that?” she insisted.

Rhysand opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Because you were worth it.”

His simple words hung between them and Feyre had a hard time knowing what to say or how to react.  So she merely smiled and hooked her arm with his.

“Tell me about game night.  Am I going to wind up on some snipe hunt?”

“Oh no, you and I are going to gang up against Cassian and beat him at Mario Cart.”

Feyre laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

And she realized that she wouldn’t mind if that’s how the rest of her nights played out.  Late hours of laughs and friends, being around people--one person--who made her feel better than she had in a long time.  

No, she wouldn’t mind it at all.

#

thanks so much for reading!

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[9worldstales]

MCU “Thor: Ragnarok” - The elevator scene

So I’ve heard that Tom Hiddleston’s interview “Tom Hiddleston Looks Back at 10 Years of Loki | Entertainment Weekly” has sparked some discussion…

…because, when talking of the elevator scene Tom said Thor had been honest in it, sparking the joy of who enjoyed that scene which is one of the few emotional moments of the movie between the two in which Thor says something ‘nice’ to Loki (I think that scene is actually one of the most well known and popular about the movie) and the disagreement of who remembered that Thor used that moment to place an obedience disk on Loki’s back, an obedience disk that basically tortures who wear it once it’s activated… and Thor later activated it when Loki attempted to betray him, and left it activated, abandoning him in that hangar where the grandmaster, which he knows has no qualms to melt people who disappoint him, could find Loki. The fact that Korg finds Loki first and free him from that torture is mere luck on Loki and on Thor’s part as Loki will then bring Asgard a ship large enough to save all the Asgardians.

Long story short, a part of the fandom felt that Thor said such words to cause Loki to lower his guard so that he could place the obedience disk.

So I wanted to share my two cents about it.

But first let’s look at the full script for it.

Thor: Hey, so listen, we should talk. Loki: I disagree. Open communication was never our family's forte. Thor: You have no idea. I've had quite the revelation since we spoke last. [The door opens, revealing a bunch of guards. Thor and Loki heft up two Sakaarian guns.] Thor: Hello! Loki: Hi! [Thor and Loki BLAST all the guards, moving to another door.] Loki: Odin brought us together, it's almost poetic that his death should split us apart. We might as well be strangers now. "Two sons of the crown" set adrift. [A guard tries to ambush Loki through the door. Thor TAKES OUT the guard.] Thor: Thought you didn't want to talk about it? Loki: Here's the thing.

[ELEVATOR. Thor and Loki are going up.] Loki: I'm probably better off staying here on Sakaar. Thor: That's exactly what I was thinking. Loki: ...Did you just agree with me? Thor: This place is perfect for you. It's savage, chaotic, lawless. Brother, you're going to do GREAT here. Loki: Do you truly think so little of me? [Thor pauses, considers his brother. Then:] Thor: Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago. [Loki is wounded by Thor's willingness to discard him. Masks his feelings with:] Loki: It's probably for the best that we never see one another again. [Beat. Thor pats Loki affectionately on the shoulder. Hold on Loki. Did Thor just get through to him?] Thor: That's what you always wanted.

Yeah, I included the bit prior to it because it kind of introduced the scene. And as the obedience disk scene is also part of the discussion, let’s look at it as well.

Loki: I know I've betrayed you many times before, but this time it's truly nothing personal. The reward for your capture will set me up nicely. He triggers the alarm. Thor: Never one for sentiment, were you? Loki: Easier to let it burn. [But then Loki sees Thor holding up a fob device. Loki realizes that Thor affixed an Obedience Disk on him in that heart-to-heart moment.] Thor: I agree. [BZZZT! Thor ZAPS Loki and HOLDS DOWN the button. Loki HITS the ground, WRITHING in pain. Thor approaches. Pause.] Thor: Oh brother, you're becoming predictable. I trust you, you betray me. Round and round in circles we go. [Thor continues to "think about it" for a beat while Loki convulses in agony on the floor. Finally, Thor kneels down:] Thor: See, Loki, life is about, it's about growth. It's about change. But you seem to just wanna stay the same. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you'll always be the God of Mischief, but you could be more. I'll just put this over here for you. [Thor places the fob on top of the security panel, so close but so far from Loki's paralyzed reach.] Thor: Anyway, I got places to be so good luck.

Okay, now with these scenes in mind, let’s go and see how Tom comments the elevator scene.

The elevator scene, in “Ragnarok.” The dialogue was… was scattered across these different… places as they were trying to escape and find their way through. Taika said: “Guys, do you know the rest of the scene?” and we both said: “Yeah.” He said: “Maybe we should just do... do one where we just do all of the dialogue here in the elevator and you haven't really had a chance to catch up and maybe you should just talk to each other,” and Thor… is quite honest with him. And I think it really affects Loki, he thinks ‘oh actually maybe… maybe I got this wrong, maybe I did have a place in that family. Maybe… maybe this guy is my brother,’ but it was a really enjoyable scene because it was just a very quiet moment with Chris in a very calm space in a big colourful spectacular film. [“Tom Hiddleston Looks Back at 10 Years of Loki | Entertainment Weekly”]

So… is Thor being sincere? Or just being manipulative?

When one look at Thor’s sentence there’s a thing that hit me:

Thor: Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.

At Loki’s question ‘Do you truly think so little of me?’ Thor doesn’t say ‘No, I think the world of you.’ He says he THOUGHT the world of him. As in previously he thought the world of him and we can speculate this previously refers to before he stopped considering him a ‘brother’ something that happened likely in “The Avengers” according to “Thor: The Dark World”, probably when Thor told him they could stop the Chitauri together and Loki stabbed him.

Thor: I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you.

And I can believe Thor used to love Loki before all that, so he’s sincere in saying that, back then, he thought the world of him.

Now, I know there’s people who think Thor didn’t properly appreciate Loki in “Thor”, especially when he used the pretty unlucky sentence ‘Know your place, Brother’ but also when, in a cut scene, he waved away Loki’s contribute to the victory saying ‘Some do battle, others just do tricks’ but this is exactly the point.

Thor’s ‘sin’ in that moment is his vanity, his arc in the movie centred on him learning humility.

Thor loved Loki, same as Kevin Lomax, in “The Devil’s Advocate” loved Mary Ann. There’s quite a good quote in that movie.

John Milton: I rest my case. Vanity is definitely my favorite sin. Self-love, the all-natural opiate. It's not like you didn't care for Mary Ann, Kevin. You were just a little more involved with someone else: yourself.

Thor also in the first half of the movie was more involved in himself than he was in his brother. Or his friends. Let’s remember Fandral got hurt and it was Loki and Volstagg which helped him, while the Thor is described by the script as busy fighting the Frost Giants, his bloodlust rising, with Loki and Sif both telling Thor they’ve to leave instead.

Loki: Thor, we must go! [Thor, still without his hammer, fights his Jotun foes mercilessly, a man consumed by blood lust. Loki sees the look on his brother's face -- the savage thrill of the heat of battle.] Thor: Then go! Sif: There are too many of them! Thor: I can stop them! [The others hesitate. Jotuns break up through the ice all around them.] Sif: Thor! [But Thor ignores his comrades, continues fighting.]

When they’ll be back to Asgard it’ll be Odin who’ll say Fandral has to be taken to the healing room, not Thor, something that the movie will technically address when it’ll show that Thor, once back to Asgard after he learnt humility on Midgard, will be the one to tell his friends to bring Heimdall to the healing room.

in “Thor”, Thor had to be a bad brother due to his vanity… but this doesn’t mean he was an unloving one, just one who might have thought the world about Loki… but thought the whole universe about himself and thought more about himself than he ever did at Loki… because he was vain.

Sadly although most of the second half of the movie is set up to prove Thor is the opposite of how he was before, they never quite manage to prove he would have an opposite dynamic with Loki. He tries to save him twice, and clearly didn’t want him to let go, he tells his brother not to let go, he’s the one who screams when Loki does anyway, while Odin merely says a quiet no which wasn’t even in the original old script, but, unless we consider the fact he accepted Loki to be the king to exist to be the opposite of ‘Know your place, Brother’, this is maybe the only aspect in which the movie doesn’t prove Thor now has a reverse mentality (I’ve listed all the scenes the movie had or was meant to have that proved how Thor made a 180° turn in another meta if someone is interested).

But whatever, Thor’s ‘Loki, I thought the world of you’ was clearly meant to be the truth, Thor used to think so of Loki, the movie is just skipping on the part he wasn’t so good at showing it because in “Thor” Thor was a vain boy.

And it’s likely also the truth how Thor said ‘I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever.’

In “The Avengers” Thor not only insisted for Loki to come back home but also for them to fight together against the Chitauri.

Thor: Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule? Loki: (tries to look away) It's too late. It's too late to stop it. Thor: No. We can. Together.

And the fact they used to fight together is implied in the already mentioned cut scene of “Thor” as well as again, in “The Avengers”.

Thor: We were raised together, we played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?

So yes, Thor for a while thought they were gonna fight side by side forever, then things in “The Avengers” went downhill and by the time “Thor: The Dark World” comes around he refuses to acknowledge Loki as his brother… even though he still needs him.

There’s no lies in Thor’s words, he said something he thought before Loki’s fall, that he and Loki would always fight together, on the same side and, all considered, he had no reason to think otherwise. He had no idea things would take a turn for worse so of course he would think Loki would continue to fight at his side. The old script and the novel implied the original plan prior to the coronation was for Thor to rule and for Loki to be at his side, offering him counsel.

Odin: Do you think he's ready? Frigga: He thinks he is. He has his father's confidence. Odin: He'll need his father's wisdom. Frigga: And his humility? [Odin reacts.] Frigga: (cont’d) Thor won't be alone. Loki will be at his side to give him counsel. Have faith in your sons. Odin: Yes, but Thor's still a boy. He could be a great King...

So yes, in this too Thor is sincere. He assumed Loki would stay at his side. He had no reason to think otherwise.

The last bit though, ‘But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago’ is just Thor basically letting go of Loki. Loki is not him, maybe there’s good in Loki, maybe he’s just evil but anyway he isn’t going to be a hero like Thor. As he said before, for Thor, place like Saakar, savage, chaotic, lawless, is perfect for someone like Loki.

Is he being manipulative here? He’s rejecting Loki knowing Loki actually needs Thor to tell him he needs him?

Well this is what Hemsworth said Thor was thinking about Loki:

One of the more fascinating parts of the franchise has been the relationship between Thor and Loki… How do you continue that relationship without repeating what you’ve already done before? Hemsworth: Without giving too much away, I didn't want to repeat that relationship either. And Tom felt the same. All of us were like, ‘What can we do again here?’ There’s a bit of reversal as far as... In the first films, a lot of the time you’re seeing Thor going, 'Come back Loki, and da-da-da-da.' [But now] there’s a feeling from Thor that’s just like, 'You know what, kid? Do what you want. You’re a screw up. So whatever. Do your thing.' [Chris Hemsworth ‘Thor Ragnarok’, Embracing the Comedy, the Thor-Loki Relationship and More]

Loki is a ‘screw up’. He’s no more someone he thought the world of. He doesn’t think anymore they would keep on fighting together. He doesn’t care.

And this is what Waititi said.

Hewitt: For Loki, he might actually be the most emotionally independent of the movie, and I love that the big emotional epiphany comes when one brother is essentially electrocuting the other? Ah- Waititi: *chuckles* Hewitt: *chuckling* Yeah. But there’s a speech to Loki that Thor gives about change and about how you should change, that’s the first time I think Loki’s ever really listened. Waititi: Mm-hmm. Hewitt: From what we’ve seen, you know, there are moments in this movie where, you know, the betrayal takes place as you might expect, and then you begin to move it on beyond that and the character actually begins to change. Ah, can you talk about... progressing Loki, I guess, as a character? Waititi: Yeah. Yeah, well I feel like we were- You know, we didn’t want to change him too much because he was so popular and the fans love that version of him. We wanted to keep- we needed to retain who he is, because when you start changing all of the characters and just doing it for the sake of change, you know, people can’t handle that and definitely fans can’t handle that. So you know he was one of the few characters that we, you know, that we changed and so I made sure that- *pause* -that the main changes that were gonna happen there were to do with the brothers, and to do with their relationship, because I think people wanted to see that arc end on a satisfying way and culmination of all these films and all of the events being that Thor and Loki finally found some sort of way of co-existing without Thor always saying, “Loki, stop this madness! Come hooome! Oh, you can do better!” Instead of pleading with him, just, you know, I feel that’s the most mature version of these guys, you know, is to say to him, “Man, it’s cool. You keep doing what you’re doing, I’m- You know, I don’t need to change you. I’ve all the other stuff to concentrate on, that change thing is up to you, I’m not gonna- I’m sick of, like, pleading with you to, you know, to change your ways.” And I feel like giving that decision to Loki and letting him make that decision for himself was actually the most satisfying version of those have been. [“Empire Podcast Spoiler Special Thor Ragnarok with Taika Waititi”]

To be honest most of the discussion more than about the elevator scene is about the electrocution scene and the first part is Hewitt’s interpretation but Waititi does not disagree. Anyway the root of the discussion is that, according to Waititi, Thor isn’t trying to get Loki to change his mind, Thor is just done with Loki, which fits not just with the electrocution scene but also with the elevator scene. It’s not a very loving message.

If I were to question Hiddleston’s interpretation, I wouldn’t disagree on Thor being honest, I would just find weird that Loki had reacted to such words thinking ‘oh actually maybe… maybe I got this wrong, maybe I did have a place in that family. Maybe… maybe this guy is my brother,’ for two good reasons. One is that Thor spoke not in present simple but in past simple, so maybe that guy WAS his brother, now he doesn’t care about him anymore. As he said in “Thor: The Dark World” Thor has again renounced him. The second is… the electrocution scene, which starts with Loki betraying Thor.

Yeah, I know there are fans who interpret it as Loki not wanting Thor to die fighting Hela which I TRULY love because sometimes fans have better interpretations than the authors on why the character do what they do, but, skipping that the idea of handing him to the Grandmaster who could very well melt him wasn’t that bright (but whatever, Loki could still think he’ll manage to persuade the Grandmaster to let him alive and use him to replace the Hulk), this clearly wasn’t Waititi’s intent.

Waititi didn’t correct Hewitt when he talks about the scene and how that’s the first time Loki’s ever really listened. In Waititi’s intent the elevator’s scene is just an addition, something in which Thor and Loki talk to each other because they hadn’t had the chance to catch up before the electrocution scene that would remark how Loki is again betraying Thor but how Thor this time has grown and can predict Loki’s betrayal and be ready to strike back and even give him the speech that will cause Loki’s change of heart. Long story short, the elevator scene was an afterthought, what was meant to be included was the electrocution scene because on that scene was supposed to be rooted the idea Loki would change.

And of course this is a HUGE problem, because if you, up until a moment before, were willing to sell your brother to someone like the Grandmaster for money, the fact that he electrocute you and leave you writhing in pain on the floor, KNOWING if the Grandmaster finds you empty handed he will melt you… well, this normally wouldn’t inspire you to have brotherly feelings, speech about having the potential for being more or not.

Long story short, the idea that Loki would go to save Thor and the Asgardians DESPITE that, merely due to Thor’s pretty speech, doesn’t really feel that logic at all, never mentioning that something that gives you enough pain to cause you to crumble on the floor and be unable to move might not help you to be an attentive listener.

I’m not even sure why there’s this idea that Thor was always ‘come back, brother’ since in “Thor: The Dark World” Thor definitely wasn’t asking him to come back, he was actually giving up on him in an even more drastic way than he did in “Thor: Ragnarok”…

Loki: You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me? Thor: I don't. Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me and I will kill you. [Loki smiles]

It’s not said solely in the script, this is what Hiddleston said about Loki in “Thor: The Dark World” as well:

…and in a way reverse the arc of the character. Because he’s always defined himself in opposition. Thor has always been offering an olive branch. ‘Come back. We forgive you. Come back.’ And it’s Loki’s kind of arrogant privilege to say ‘No. I still hate you.’ And…in this film I think…nobody’s offering the olive branch. He’s in prison, condemned to be written out of history, forgotten, unseen, unheard, and haunted by his demons. You have to change at that point. So that surprised me. How far further down does he go before he hits rock bottom? Is there one for him? And…could he come back up? [“Nov 2013 Hiddleston Interview: Commentary on the Commentary (and much more)“]

…and yet, in “Thor: The Dark World”, despite his brother saying he previously held back when fighting because he hoped his brother was still there (a clear hint he loved such brother) and that now he no longer believes in such hope, Loki didn’t sell him to the Dark Elves and even stopped the Kurse from killing him, which lead him to be stabbed… and mind you, originally the wound was meant to be fatal… but whatever, this is a discussion for another post.

Anyway basically what Thor told him back then… is more or less the same he told him in the elevator scene so Tom Hiddleston’s explanation about how this would AGAIN affect Loki would make sense if it wasn’t for the electrocution scene that gets in the way.

On another note the Junior novel is apparently based on an older script for “Thor: Ragnarok” and in it things work a lot more better.

There’s no elevator scene or electrocution scene. The two brother had a talk in which Thor bares his soul to Loki and encourages him to change as well.

“You’ll help us free Asgard from Hela’s grip when we arrive? I can count on you?” Thor asked. “Of course. After all, I’m sure you blame me for her resurgence. It’s at least I can do.” Loki appeared contrite. “Although, I am curious, why the sudden change of heart to become Odinson and assume the throne?” “It is what is needed to defeat Hela. Therefore it is my duty,” Thor said plainly. He let out a small sigh, his voice almost apologetic. “In the past I demanded the throne when I hadn’t earned it, and then refused the throne when Asgard needed me most. You stole it. Twice.” “Yet you are always forgiven,” Loki said, trying not to sneer. “My point is that our self-centered conflict over Asgard has ruined our kingdom. We have been so focused on fighting for the top we’ve forgotten there’s a middle and a bottom. If I’m to be king, then I want to be a custodian, not a conqueror.” “Why the sudden baring of your soul to me?” Loki asked. Thor turned to his brother. “Because I want to change. I want to be better. And I think you can, too. Helping us escape has shown you can take strides toward that.” He looked at Loki earnestly. “Make a fresh start, brother. It’s time.” [“Thor: Ragnarok - The Junior Novel”]

While this bit is clearly not perfect (especially since there are some canon mistakes) it contains the same idea that Loki should change and be more that is also in the electrocution speech, but it’s way more love inspiring than having your brother leaving you wriggling in pain on the floor.

Thor doesn’t try to pass himself for a perfect hero but admits his faults as well as the wish to be better. This dialogue continues with the theme of “Thor” in which Thor tries to be worthy and, in opening his heart to Loki and saying they can both improve could have reminded him again they used to be brothers who loved each other and their own country.

But, okay, I’m digressing.

On another note… it’s clear they expected Tom Hiddleston to say something nice about “Thor: Ragnarok”. I know there’s a huge part of the fandom who would just love if it were to respectfully disrespected but, for start, I don’t think that’s Hiddleson’s style and, anyway, he wouldn’t be allowed to do so. Not only “Thor: Ragnarok” was successful but Waititi is now directing “Thor: Love and Thunder”. Marvel clearly counts on it to ride the success of “Thor: Ragnarok” and be successful as well so it’s not like they’ll want us to forget it or allow Hiddleston to speak poorly of it.

Still there are some interesting things to point out.

The first is that Hiddleston spoke about the other movies a lot more than about this one. It’s around 1 minute commenting versus the 1 minute and a half of the other 3 movies and he mentions just that one scene while in the others we see more than 1 (I’m obviously skipping “Avengers: Infinity War” and “Avengers: Endgame” because Loki’s role in the was way too small to discuss it at length).

Long story short, while Hiddleston doesn’t say anything against “Thor: Ragnarok” he clearly didn’t have much he wanted to say. He focused on what to the audience felt a nice moment about Thor and Loki and then moved on.

The second scene is that in the montage of the video they cut part of Thor’s sentence so that all the viewers hear is “I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me... I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.”

Basically they left out the “Loki, I thought the world of you.”

Maybe it’s a coincidence but still it’s interesting they didn’t realize they were cutting the most emotional line of that bit.

Whatever, it happens.

Anyway, for what’s worth, those are my two cents on the whole thing.