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shihalyfie · 3 years

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Regarding Konaka’s influence on Tamers (or how much he actually didn’t have)

(Rest assured that if you’ve had a conversation with me recently about this issue, I’m not vaguing you; this conversation has come up a lot in the last few weeks, especially in my private chats, so this is just me deciding that I should write something about this for once since it’s been weighing on my head lately.)

I think, right now, with what happened regarding the DigiFes debacle, a lot of people are having complicated feelings about how to feel about Tamers, and this is completely understandable. I think there are also some things that may be inevitably unavoidable, such as starting to second-guess certain nuances in the series and what they might lead to. All of that is perfectly reasonable, and in the end, it’s going to be up to everyone to decide how they feel.

In light of this, a lot of people have been bringing up the fact that, while Konaka was the head writer, he was by no means the only person working on it. This is very much true, but I’d like to add something else to the equation: this is an issue that goes much deeper than the usual claiming death of the author for the sake of sanity. The full picture is that Konaka has always had much less influence on the series than the fanbase tends to attribute to him. Official statements have been very clear as to not attribute the entire series to him, and, among all the other controversial statements he’s made, Konaka himself has at least been very active about crediting the other staff members as far as their influence on the series! The idea that he was the only person who ever did anything substantial for Tamers is something I’ve been warning against since long before any of this happened (if you want proof, I have a post from April with this sentiment in it), and right now we just happen to be seeing what’s basically the worst possible outcome of the fanbase constantly worshipping him like the only real creative heart behind the series to borderline cult-like levels...when that’s never been true, and has resulted in unfairly taking credit away from people who deserved it.

I’ll go into detail below, and I hope this can help people understand the situation better and sort out how they feel about it.

Note that I make references to his infamous blog in this post, which I’m deliberately refraining from directly linking for obvious reasons, but all of the information is still there, so it should be verifiable if you decide to look for it yourself.

Personally, I’ve always found it really bizarre how there’s been this obsession with portraying Konaka as some kind of auteur whom the entirety of Tamers depended on. I’m not saying this out of spite towards him, because, again, even he himself was very insistent on disclaiming credit for things he wasn’t actually responsible for (he was quite humble in this respect, actually). Not to mention that I think it’s a mistake in general to constantly pin a single person in a multi-person production as the sole heart behind it, and the Digimon fanbase has historically had this strange double standard behind it when it comes to uplifting him as the only heart behind Tamers when nobody says that about any of the head writers for...anything else. (How many times has Nishizono’s name ever popped up when talking about Adventure? People are usually more obsessed with talking about Kakudou or Seki.) Konaka’s work is certainly distinctive, but Tamers had a lot more going on besides just that.

In fact, based on his own statements on the matter and all of the other official information we’ve gotten about Tamers production, while you can’t really quantify such things, it’s generally been estimated that Konaka was responsible for something like only a fourth of the series. Which is an incredibly low amount compared to what the fanbase would have told you before all of this happened, because of this fixation that he must be the genius mastermind behind the whole series. Not only that, this “brilliant auteur” image of him was so inflated that people were attributing way more of 02 to him than he deserved; 02 episode 13 was the only thing he contributed to the series and he was specifically brought on as a “guest writer”, and the overall plot of the episode was determined by the rest of the production staff and not him -- but ask the fanbase and they’ll tell you stories about how he invented some grand planned arc for 02 that got cancelled, or even that Tamers exists because of a “writer revolt” from him and other writers not being allowed to do what they wanted. (You know, as much as I understand 02′s a controversial series, it would be really nice if people didn’t make up completely baseless stories like this just to scapegoat it...)

I honestly cannot emphasize enough how much of the problem we’re in right now has been horribly enabled by the weird pedestal the fanbase has been putting him on. This is to the point where there’s even been a double standard where some of the more unpopular/criticized elements of Tamers must not have been the fault of a brilliant writer like him, and in fact was forced on him by the executives (this excuse had always been brought up anytime someone doesn’t like something about Tamers, just to make sure the image of him as a perfect writer was maintained). Turns out, as per his own admission on the infamous blog, while he wasn’t the one who initially had the idea of putting Ryou in, the part that rubbed the fanbase the wrong way -- that he came in as an accomplished senior who was better than everyone and played up by everyone in the cast -- was unabashedly his idea (he apparently was enamored with the idea of having someone like Tuttle from the movie Brazil). Again, this is a weird scenario where even Konaka himself has been more humble about this issue than the fanbase’s perception of him; he fully admitted whenever he had trouble writing certain parts. For instance, he doesn’t actually like writing about alternate worlds, felt they were out of his comfort zone, and only wrote in the Digital World because the franchise needs one; he’d stated that if he’d had his way, the Digital World arc wouldn’t have come in as early as it did, which might be a pretty shocking statement for a Digimon fan to hear.

If you want even more specifics, here are some extremely major parts of the series that Konaka was not actually the one behind:

The character backgrounds. Konaka stated on his blog that he wasn’t interested in going too much into character backstories because he felt it was too plot-limiting to say that a character is the way they are thanks to something in their past or background (basically, he cares more about plot than character for the most part), and that he’s also not into worldbuilding. Certain things like Ruki going to a girls’ school were supplied by Seki, who infamously loves worldbuilding, family backgrounds, and character settings.

Certain nuances of Ruki’s character, especially the part where she’s pigeonholed into uncomfortable places due to being a girl, were informed by Yoshimura Genki, writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02 (who eventually would go on to create an entire career out of feminist cinema).

According to the posts on his blog, Impmon’s character arc didn’t have much input from Konaka himself and was largely written in by Maekawa Atsushi (also a writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02).

The whole concept of Yamaki being redeemable in the first place was something Konaka didn’t originally plan for; he’d initially intended to make him a straightforward antagonist, but, of all things, his Christmas song, combined with the input of the other writers (especially Maekawa) humanizing him, led to the development where Yamaki eventually changed sides and became sympathetic. (This makes Konaka’s recent stunt revolving around Yamaki a bit painfully ironic.)

The director, Kaizawa Yukio, was deliberately picked because he didn’t have experience on the prior series, for the sake of changing things up, and he spent Tamers as a period of studying what Digimon should be like. Based on what he’s hinted, it seems Konaka's writing style and choices were able to have as much influence as they did because Kaizawa approved of them -- that is to say, Konaka’s detailed imagery and descriptions were extensive enough that Kaizawa could go “sure, let’s go with that.” But in the end, nothing Konaka did would have gone through unless Kaizawa and Seki (among many others) didn’t also approve of it or provide input. Moreover, Kakudou Hiroyuki (director of Adventure and 02) has also been stated many times to have been a valuable consultant on invoking Digimon so that the new staff could understand what to aim for and how to get the right feel (and also assisted with providing stuff for the mythos, such as the Devas). Nevertheless, Kaizawa also seems to have had his own strong opinions and input on the story; he especially seems to get passionate when it comes to the topic of making the story something the kids watching it could relate to and imagine. (He would eventually go on to direct Frontier and Hunters, along with several episodes of the Adventure: reboot.)

So in other words, looking at this, a lot of these things that people emotionally connected to and loved about Tamers are things that literally were not his personal creation, and were largely contributed by the other writers! Of course, Konaka’s “creator thumbprint” is very obvious -- he was the head writer, after all -- and all of this had to go through his own vetting to make sure he personally liked it as well -- but nevertheless, you can see that this very much was a collaborative effort from head to toe, with him being very open about this fact himself. Insisting on making sure that this fact is well-known isn’t just a coping mechanism to try and remove his presence in the series, but rather a desire to get people to seriously stop giving him credit that really should be going to others (especially since, again, even he himself was very diligent about assigning that credit).

In the end, I’ll leave you with another thing to keep in mind: Konaka doesn’t get paid anymore for Tamers work (unless they make something new like the DigiFes thing), so continuing to buy Tamers merch and supporting the series through fanart and such will probably end up going more towards the Digimon IP as a whole. Basically, if we’re just talking about Tamers specifically, what degree this is going to matter is only really relevant to the content in the original series, which is now twenty years old and remains unchanged. By Konaka’s own admission, he wasn’t into all of these conspiracy theories until 2010 at the earliest, so while it’s understandable to be a bit wary about the themes in Tamers having traces of the base sentiment, the original series itself does not seem to be an outlet for alt-right propaganda, and it’s probably forcing it a bit much to read into it that way. Konaka’s also repeatedly insisted that all of his attempts at a Tamers sequel have been rejected and that he’s been doing increasingly strange swerves to get around members of the original cast not entirely being available, and the Japanese audience has turned out to not be very fond of the contents of the 2018 drama CD and the stage reading for reasons entirely separate from the politics, so it’s also unlikely we’ll be getting a Tamers sequel from him or something in the near future.

So -- at least for the time being -- what’s done with him is done, and the remaining question is how all of us feel about Tamers. I think everyone will have differing feelings on it, and that’s perfectly understandable. Personally, given everything I just said above, I’m going to continue treating it as a series very important to me, and one that many people (including, as it seems, a very different Konaka from twenty years ago) worked on with a lot of effort and love, although you may see me getting a bit more willing to be critical about the series and its themes thanks to my concerns about some of the sentiments in it and what they imply. I also completely understand that there are probably people whose associations are going to be much more hurt and who will have a much harder time seeing the series the same way ever again, and I think that’s reasonable as well. But at the very least, going forward, I hope all of us can understand the depth of this situation, give credit where it’s due, and not force credit where it’s not due.

#digimon #digimon tamers

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

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jib 7 breakdown and analysis

a little while ago i said that i am open to requests for making analysis posts when it comes to cockles panels and just cockles in general, and i got quite a few responses. the first person who asked me was my lovely tea anon, and the panel in question is jib 2016 aka jib 7.

first of all i want to give you my take on the overall vibe, and then second of all i will get into the details and link to certain timestamps in the video.

standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. my recommendation would be to watch the panel in its entirety alongside my comments. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

the overall vibe that this panel gives me is that jensen and misha are a unity at this point. they are in sync with each other, and this whole panel is very relaxed and in good spirits. there is also the fact that their outfits match very well. and with jensen ross ackles involved, that cannot be a coincidence, so i love that a lot.

another thing that i cannot ignore is that it’s also a very sexual panel, with a lot of double meanings and innuendos and remarks that can be read as sexual if you are as pervy as me.

now let’s get into the specifics.

although i am sure this is not going to be news for any of you, i feel like a little background knowledge is in order. before this panel, misha had had a panel that day with j*red. the mishalecki panel was really fucking funny and filled with sexual innuendos.

between these two panels, it appears that there was a break in which they all had nothing to do (i am basing this off other people’s experiences and reports that i have read in the past, as i unfortunately wasn’t there myself).

considering how this panel goes, i think there is a good chance that jensen and misha just had sex beforehand. and based on both of their demeanors, one could draw certain conclusions about who did what (i honestly don’t like talking about who tops and who bottoms because who gives a shit and things are rarely that black and white, but all i’m gonna say is that even though jensen has joked about his asshole before, jensen and misha clearly said switch rights).

from the very first second. the VERY FIRST SECOND. jensen is sauntering on stage like he is thee man. then the crowd is cheering ‘one more time’, and jensen looks at misha, starts cheering too, and makes a movement that is bordering on obscene before waving it away. conclusion: ‘one more time’ could also mean ‘one more round of hot steaming sex’ and he still had sex on the brains, so that was what he was thinking about.

ahhh, the intricate ritual [1m34s] of greeting each other on stage as if you haven’t spoken to each other all day, even though you probably just had sex….. jensen ackles, i wanna study you. i wonder what the deal is with that. does he just like to pay misha extra attention on stage? does he revel in the fact that he knows that fans like this sort of interaction? can he just not help himself? questions that keep me up at night.

also, there is just SOMETHING about the way jensen says ‘i’m doing well how are you?’ it’s almost flustered? borderline shy? and then he goes on to say that he did an impression of misha earlier, in a manner that’s just so flirty. idk guys. it’s flirty. kindergarten flirty, but flirty nonetheless.

misha, of course, immediately turns his entire body towards him. almost as if they both already forgot there is an audience in front of them. then he just gets closer and closer to jensen, for no reason whatsoever except for the pure magnetic pull they have on each other. pray4misha.

i think it is a testament to how in sync they are that misha immediately realises that jensen mentioned bicycle touring during his ‘impression of misha’, and i love the moment where jensen puts on an accent (something that misha normally does) and goes ‘is like sport’ and misha laughs and goes ‘is very similar to sport’ and they both lose it. idk, i feel like that might be a sort of inside joke to them as well.

this might be slightly reaching, but hear me out: right away, jensen goes: ‘oh by the way, sore?’ why would he say ‘by the way’? what is he thinking about when he says that? is it about ‘is very similar to sport’? because i could totally see them having sex and refering to it as ‘well that’s kind of like a sport’, as an inside joke. it works. i’m just saying!!!

look. i know this back and forth has been discussed to death. we all know that the implication is that jensen fucked misha and misha is kind of stunned that jensen actually goes there. so stunned that he repeats it: ‘sore? am i sore?’ almost as if to stall a bit in his response. yikes.

i think that it’s fair to say that this is something jensen enjoys doing: riling misha up on stage. because a lot of the time, misha has the upper hand on stage (probably also in the bedroom but that’s another conversation), but sometimes. sometimes jensen just can’t help but throw a lil oil onto the fire. (see also: underbear panel, throwing himself on stage to get straddled, etc).

misha goes on to say that ‘after the panel with j*red’ he is quite sore. you can take that at face value, and think ‘oh so he is joking around that the panel with j*red made him sore haha’ or you can see a little bit of the truth shine through: literally after that panel, something happened that made him sore. it’s always easier to lie when you are bending the truth.

i actually can’t believe i never connected the dots before, but when misha deflects and says ‘oh you’re talking about the bike riding’ jensen is quick to say: ‘oh no i was talking about what just happened’ but instead of pointing at the stage (which is where the previous panel took place) he is gesturing to backstage. i mean…. way to feed into my ‘they just had sex backstage’ theory, jackles. thanks for that.

i cannot get over the way jensen is looking at misha throughout this whole ordeal, but especially when he goes ‘you heard it here first, folks’ and misha walks up to him. THAT FACE. fuck him. he’s so gone.

sidenote: i have never wished to be able to read lips as much as i have since i have stumbled upon these two morons, because i WISH i could see what misha is mouthing to jensen. i know there is some spec that he might have said ‘i am a little bit’ (aka he is a little bit sore) and i could see that, but i just want to know for sure. and even though i have seen people state that jensen would have already known about the panel with j*red, i think it’s possible misha hadn’t filled jensen in yet, seeing as they probably were doing something other than talking.

let me take this moment to tell y’all about one of my jenmish theories, and that is: i think that jensen sometimes is overprotective of misha and that can come across as jealousy when it’s actually just worry. and i think this panel is a good example of that.

misha says [4m25s] that in italy they call come influence and jensen just. straight up looks at misha like ‘what the fuck did you do, what mess did you get yourself into this time?’ this is another reason why i believe he actually didn’t know about what happened during that panel yet: the reaction looks very authentic. you see his eyes shift from one side to the other and back again, as he is trying to process it. and honestly when you look at misha, his face goes through this journey of ‘this is funny’ to ‘shit is this maybe going a bit too far?’ and ending on ‘okay wrap it up wrap it up’. this is further solidified by the fact that jensen starts to mime digging a grave (aka ‘digging your own grave’).

misha tries to ‘change the subject’ by saying cas is the bottom in the implied relationship with sam and jensen immediately brings it back to sports. see what i meant when i said that they are tying sex and sports together? here jackles goes again, doing exactly that. for no reason whatsoever. (except to once again proof my point).

WHY [5m50s] do they both burst out laughing at ‘tight end’ why why why i don’t wanna know but why why also quick reminder of ‘are you sore at all’ help i am just. EVERY DAY they are making me perceive things and connect dots and i do not like it. anyways i’m not saying that this is all very graphic stuff about their sex lives but i’m also not not saying it, you feel? jensen’s face says it all tbh. on a more wholesome note: i love the fact that they basically wanted to say ‘we should take questions’ at the same time. again: in sync.

when the first person to ask a question said ‘this is a serious question’ misha goes to explain to jensen that that was a joke during his panel with j*red, another reason to believe that he hadn’t told jensen about the panel yet. jensen’s face there…. heart eyes motherfucker.

i really don’t see enough people talk about the ‘safe word’ [6m38s] bit. jensen is the one to bring it up ‘so we should probably establish a safe word at this point. mine is keep going.’ misha laughs, and then realises what jensen has said, and (here comes my dom/sub truthing) teases jensen by saying ‘what is your safe word?’ to which jensen replies ‘keep going’ but LOOK at jensen’s face after he says that. he shakes his head with a little smirk and looks at misha with such a knowing look in his eyes that says ‘you fucker you know damn well what my safe word is’ and he actually does a double take and immediately rolls his eyes at himself after that. it’s all very quick but it’s far from subtle and i am here for it.

i fucking love this next part because when the person says ‘a real story about the real jensen and the real misha’ they both are just like ‘yes okay’ but as soon as they say ‘that you have never told anyone before’ jensen just looks down and moves his head as if to say ‘what the hell am i supposed to come up with then’ lmao it’s really funny, and they end it with: ‘to know you a little bit better’ and guys (gn) i beg of you to look at the way they look at each other here. [7m24s] jensen is just like ‘help wtf should we say to this’ and misha just smiles down at him fondly like ‘sigh our fans really want us to talk about our relationship and as much as we would love to share stuff we just can’t’.

when misha says ‘we have to dust off some of those stories that we usually try not to tell other people’, something comes to mind: the ‘3 least ordered items on the menu’ story, that jensen shared a year after this at honcon. i honestly think that maybe they started to talk about what else they could share with the public, after this panel, because they get similar questions like this one all the time. either that or jensen just thought about what he felt comfortable sharing, without talking to misha about it, and decided to tell that story.

i also absolutely love when they say ‘this is a serious question’ at the same time. AGAIN: IN SYNC!!!

‘i actually have a voice for you’ jensen can you please tell me why this sounds flirty and charming while you are actually about to make fun of your husband? i hate you (no i don’t) the fact that misha immediately knows what will happen, says a lot.

then jensen says: ‘dust off an old story for uhh..’ and burst out laughing. i swear to god i’d give my left pinkie to know what came to mind and what he whispered into misha’s ear. and i’m left handed. but i think we can all agree that whatever jensen said, it was something sexual, seeing as misha goes ‘nope’. those fuckers (affectionate).

something that i have mentioned in the past is that jensen always sort of ‘jokey’ goes ‘oh shit’ whenever misha says he’ll share something personal/private about them. i mean. jensen, it would be less sus if you didn’t respond. just giving you some pointers here, bro. because misha almost never shares something strange, it’s actually your reaction that makes me go ‘hmmmm.’ this time he even gets kind of elaborate breathing?? [10m27s]

oh to be a fly in clif’s car… honestly, the things clif must have heard and witnessed lmao. he clearly knows what is up between them (has made enough remarks about thinking that misha would be the bottom and that misha on his knees was nothing new for me to see that he absolutely knows.)

this isn’t really important when it comes to cockles but they talk a bit about j*red’s internet dispute with at&t and jensen goes ‘oh they know’ gesturing to the audience. so clearly, jensen is well aware of the fact that fandom gets involved whenever something happens online with any one of them. just. thought that is an interesting fact. just in general. also love how i can tell that they both think j*reds crusades are bullshit (as they should).

there is something really cute [14m13s] about the way misha goes ‘do you want your apple juice?’ and jensen goes ‘yeah!’ it sounds so domestic and mundane and i just. god i love them so much.

i know we talk about jensen’s heart eyes a lot. but y’all. look [14m52s] at misha right here. he’s SO in love.

the thing that strikes me about jensen putting on ‘that voice’ for misha is that misha is honestly not bothered by it at all, but i think if the shoe was on the other foot, jensen would definitely be bothered. i don’t know what conclusion to draw from that but i just thought that is interesting. i always laugh at that bit, though, they seem to have so much fun.

i REALLY wanna know how jensen got from ‘will you dance for us?’ to ‘no but i’ll tell you what, misha and i will write a song for you real quickly.’ it’s such a fast transition that i am tempted to think that this was something he had been thinking about for a while now. he just wanted his mish to sing a song. and that warms my heart.

if you think i will ever get over how soft jensen is here… ‘you’re smart, you think on your feet, you make brilliant videos, put them on facebook, write amazing texts (*coughs* poems) and tweets and stuff, go ahead. spit out some lyrics, big guy.’ there is not one single thing about this that i do not adore. an ode to misha!!!! so casually!!! fuck. it might be true that if you want jensen to do something, you get misha to ask him, but it’s certainly also true the other way around.

the way jensen just. stares [19m02s] at misha, trying to get inspired by him, trying to feel out what cords to play. yeah. the way misha stands up but instinctively turns to jensen when he starts to sing. yeah. and then during the remainder of the song, he keeps on turning to jensen even though he faces the audience. and jensen loved it all. it’s so sweet. idk why but it just is. jensen just wanted his babe to thrive and get the love he deserves.

aaaand in comes the dom shake [20m37s]. we love to see it. jensen just keeps on looking at mish. almost gets lost in it. touches his inner thigh (one of his habits, which he does a lot around misha or when talking about misha).

i think it’s very interesting that jensen’s reaction [22m11s] to the question if he thinks dean will ever find a way to have a romantic relationship and to find himself in between normal and supernatural, is to immediately looks at misha. like? what was the reason? did he expect misha to answer a question that wasn’t about cas but about dean? did he think he should maybe answer it in a destiel-like manner? was he worried that the fan was hoping for a destiel-like answer and was he looking at misha to gauge what he thought was a smart way to respond? so many questions.

i think it’s pretty interesting that jensen was very aware of the fact that people did not wanna see dean end up with a huntress lmao. he absolutely was aware of so many fandom things.

when jensen said that misha just crossed the line [23m40s], it’s another example of how jensen is ultra aware of what misha says and how it could get him into trouble and by the sounds of it, misha knows that as well but he just can’t always stop himself in time. from what we can see, he often realises just after he has already said something (when it is already too late).

listen. the fact that misha says ‘when harry met sally’ BEFORE the question was even finished, and jensen LAUGHS, like??? that panel was 5 years ago at that point. it clearly made a lot of impact on the both of them (jeez i wonder why, could it be because misha faked an orgasm and jensen got excited? hmm. who knows.)

i think the dance portion is so fucking hilarious i’m wheeeezing. literally. they are just moving randomly AND YET THEY STILL SORT OF ARE IN SYNC? amazing.

you wanna know what i find really cute? the fact that jensen has such a soft spot for the resume off. part of me thinks it’s because they had a resume off in both 2012 and 2013.

and jib 2012 took place during the famously rumored break up period. i wouldn’t be surprised if jib 2013 was that much more special to him because they finally got to make it right again. don’t look at me i’m getting emotional (on that note…… i might wanna write something about the break up period at some point. but idk. i mean. it’s a lot to delve into especially since i wasn’t in the fandom back then but. it compels me. we’ll see i guess.)

okay i know i keep saying this but they are SO in sync, as soon as they talk about photo ops and jensen goes ‘and to dab a little salt in the wound’ misha knows what he is gonna say, and they stand up together to demonstrate what happened. AND they both go ‘that’s not the punchline’ they are husbands.

misha and jensen have both “twirled away laughing” in the EXACT same manner during this panel: misha when jensen starts to read the script, and jensen right here when misha says ‘what’s it like to be in a successful long running show’. they are mirrors. listen. listen. i know my mind is in the gutter a LOT of the time but like. uhm. there is this moment where they recall a woman saying in the photo op to ‘eat it’ (the string candy she gave to them) and misha says ‘and so we did’ and jensen looks at misha and it is SUCH an incriminating look i mean i don’t wanna be that person but 5 bucks he was thinking about eating misha out i am JUST SAYING. LITERALLY LOOK AT HIS FACE. [28m55s]

misha teases [7m02s] jensen by saying ‘what did you do? did you actually do it on purpose orrrr’ and i think it was to make jensen elaborate on it. which i think is a fucking good way to pull that off when it comes to jensen. cause jensen doesn’t like to brag, which misha knows, so by making that joke he is essentially trying to get jackles to tell the audience more about what he did, without him feeling like he is boasting about himself. and misha looks so pleased when jensen starts talking.

fuck i literally had to pause just now because. jensen says: ‘one of the characteristics of dean that i love to play is that he can bottle those fears up, stash them away, and just go. and uhm… sometimes i wish i could do that.’

this is actually making me a bit emotional because. he took his time saying this. it was a very deliberate move. he wasn’t sorry he said anything or regretted it. he wanted to get that out there. and i just. it makes so much sense if what we all think is actually true. he wishes he could just ignore all his fears and go for it. and it’s not hard to imagine what ‘it’ could be: coming out. whether that be just about his relationship with misha or being attracted to more than women in general, just in any way shape or form. it’s poignant. and misha turns away, but you can see him sigh a little bit.

the whole bit about “apple juice” is just very cute and i enjoy it a lot. one thing i will say though is that i can kind of spot two tells of jensen: the way his face scrunches up when he is telling a lie that he thinks is clever, and the way he always leaves his chair to pour a drink when a question becomes difficult/hard/too funny to face head on. he has done both of those things time and time again, during panels with misha. just an observation.

there is this little moment [10m13s] where misha tells the story about how he used to make apple cider with worms and dirt in it and in the end he goes ‘anyways. new england apple cider everyone. highly recommend.’ and jensen echoes that, ‘highly recommend. yeah.’ and of course that could just be a way to joke around and play along with misha but i’d like to think that he has visited misha and they had some apple cider together. just because i like the thought and i can, so.

how CUTE is it that jensen remembers ‘i’ll just wait here then’, a line cas spoke 7 years prior to that panel, in a scene jensen wasn’t even in. i love it.

jensen slowly shaking his head when misha says ‘fuck’ and apologizing for it has SUCH major ‘excuse my husband’ energy. i love it.

‘i’ve got an idea’ [14m13s] ‘what? let’s do it’ misha imMEDIATELY regretted that lmaooo they are always so aware of double meanings and yet they cannot seem to help themselves. we love to see it.

can you BELIEVE jensen ‘dance monkey dance’ ackles OFFERED to shamelessly promote a movie they have nothing to do with??? jensen, who hates the fact that they have to play some sort of show on stage, actually wanted to do that with misha??? i’m just- something something if you want jensen to do anything ask misha, but apparently also: if you want jensen to do something get misha involved and he’ll love it.

and then he has the audacity to say ‘over to the wheel of love.’ i mean. i can’t.

(i don’t necessarily understand what is happening btw but that’s okay, because it leads to champagne. which is fun.)

okay so again apologies for my mind being in the gutter but jensen’s face [16m33s] when he says he is going to explain what [the champagne] tastes like……. hm. help.

honestly i just love the whole champagne bit because i love it whenever they get so playful on stage, and them “presenting” the bottle and going all ‘we know what we’re talking about’ ‘we’re kind of connaisseurs’ and the whole english accent bit. say it with me…. in sync.

jensen popping a champagne bottle is something that can be so personal…. (i’m touch starved and going crazy, leave me alone)

i absolutely love the fact that jensen notices that misha is miming taking off his pants and misha immediately runs to him to explain and jensen just goes full on protective husband mode (YET AGAIN) ‘i turn my back for 2 minutes’ lmao it’s just such old married couple behavior. an old married couple that is horny and deranged, but still.

i’ve seen the gifset of this moment [24m52s] many a times but i still think it’s so intimate. the way misha looks at jensen and walks backwards with him, for no fucking reason at all. sigh. misha’s hand clenches a little, and honestly i think he would have wanted to reach out to jensen in that moment. pat his arm or his back. and something happens a little while later that only proves my point even more…

that caress [60m5s] is probably one of the most intimate gestures i’ve seen between them. it’s so familiar. so natural. it says a lot.

and that’s the end of the panel. all in all i have to say that i enjoyed rewatching this panel with the analysis goggles on, because it’s really a very different experience and i picked up on a lot more than i did when i watched it just for fun. i think this is one of my favorite panels of theirs (at least until my next analysis lmao) because of the fact that they are so in sync with each other, which goes to show that their relationship was in such a good place (mind you i am only using past tense because i am describing a past panel, not because i think they’re not in a good place right now). this was a lot of fun folks, if you actually read all of this, god bles, you’re the best. see you next time!

#cockles #jib 7 #this is very very long but in my defense this panel is an hour long #comments and thoughts are always appreciated!!

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imjeralee · 3 years

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 22 - Legend of the Void

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: I can’t really believe I'm at Chapter 22... I know it doesn’t seem too long but I feel like it is lol. Here’s when things get a bit science-fiction-y and also more to do with cosmology.

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell here is the latest update

Legend of the Void

…

[1. Whatever begins to exist has a cause.

2. The universe began to exist.

3. Therefore, the universe has a cause (which was itself not caused).

- The Kalam cosmological argument.]

…

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back!”

Upon your return to Wedgehurst, Sonia and Magnolia, Runerigus and Cutiefly are in the conservatory enjoying tea. You greet everyone, share an embrace and Cutiefly dives for your hair, burrowing himself under your locks.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Magnolia asks, lifting up an empty cup.

“Yes please.”

She smiles and begins to wander into the kitchen.

“Ah, wait – professor, I can do it myself-“

“It’s okay, come sit,” Sonia says, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the empty seat beside her. “Where’d you go last night?”

“Oh, I met up with Leon,” you reply nonchalantly. “We’re together.”

Her jaw drops. “You’re what??”

“Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier. I didn’t really know what to say, nothing was official.”

Sonia blinks wide-eyed for a moment before she slaps a perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. Emitting a muffled squeal of glee, she proceeds to throw her arms around you, enveloping you into a tight hug.

“I knew there was something between you two but I didn't think -- oh, never mind, I’m so happy for you!” she exclaims, and you smile awkwardly, gently placing your hand over her arm.

“Thanks, I, um…I have a favour to ask of you though.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to-“

Unfortunately you’re interrupted when Magnolia returns with your cup of tea. Polteageist floats beside her, having helped with the brewing and when he sees you, you both share a hug.

“Here you are, my dear,” Magnolia says as you accept the cup. It’s piping hot and smells wondrous.

“Thank you, professor.”

“Inspector Graves came by earlier; he told me to give you this,” Magnolia picks up an A4 envelope from the table and hands it to you. “He says they’re accepting new recruits and he wants you to try it out.”

You open it carefully and pull out the contents; it’s a pile of application forms for the police academy recruitment scheme. “Oh…” you mutter, “thanks, I’ll have a look at it later.”

“Can I tell her?” Sonia says giddily.

“What?? No, it’s too early!” you yelp.

"But-"

“Girls, what’s going on?” Magnolia demands, swapping glances between you and Sonia.

“N-nothing, professor.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sonia says and before you can reply, she tugs on your arm and pulls you up and off the couch, guiding you to the staircase.

Magnolia watches as you both scurry away and out of sight before she slides into a plush seat beside the stone pokemon who has been enjoying his cup of tea silently, holding the floral teacup daintily in his shadowy hands.

“Would you like some more Darjeeling, Runerigus?” she asks, lifting up the teapot.

He nods and she empties some into his little cup before she fills her own; they exchange smiles as they take a sip at the same time.

...

Upstairs, Sonia closes the door behind her and joins you on the bed, sitting cross-legged and clutching your arm.

“So! Tell me everything. I want all the details. All of them.”

You recall last night’s events though you do omit some information, namely the dream. You feel bad for not telling her there was something between you and Leon, especially the time when you had almost kissed at the hospital and when he brought you flowers, but she doesn't appear nonplussed and nods to herself, hand under her chin.

“That’s typical of him,” she says with a giggle before she sighs and flexes her hands together, smiling to herself, "I've known Leon since we were kids so I'm really happy for him. It's so strange; you've been here for a few years and you kept missing him and he kept missing you...and even when gran and I wanted you to meet him, you were always busy or away investigating so you never got the chance and neither did he...but then this happens and now you're together!!! You were always closeby but you never even got the chance to see each other...oh, I don't know, but I was always hoping for you to meet; I knew you two would hit it off."

"Yeah, I guess we wasted the years."

"Nooo, that's not what I meant at all; it's what people say 'when it's supposed to happen, it happens'," she replies, and you laugh. “So…you’ve kissed, right? You must have. How was it? What was it like to kiss the Champion of Galar?”

Your cheeks grow pink. You've never really spoken to Sonia about boys before, but this is rather refreshing.

“...Well, it was really nice,” you mumble, throwing your glance down to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. You’re not sure whether to tell Sonia that he was really shy and nervous.

“Oh, come on! Tell me bit a lot more than that!” she whines, pouting.

“I’m serious. It was fine, it was really nice. A bit wet?”

Sonia blows some hair from her face and looks at her nails. “Of course it was wet, it was a kiss. Fine, you don’t wanna tell me.”

"We’re going to practice more-“

Her eyes light up at once. “Oh!”

“And we’re going to meet up again later.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, now there’s two things I need your help with. Leon’s invited me to a party and I need an outfit-“

“I’ll help you!”

You chuckle at her enthusiasm. “And the other things is...well, it’s a little complicated to explain in its entirety but I have a new client; her sister is dead and is about to become an evil spirit – the thing is, she was Miss Motostoke but unfortunately she died and now she wants to participate in the pageant in order to move on so I was thinking we’d set up a fake pageant and I’ll let her possess my body so I would like you to be my hair and makeup artist and the presenter if possible. Don't worry, I'll compile a script for you to follow.”

Sonia gawps at you, wide-eyed.

“So, what do you say?”

“…...Sure?”

“Thanks so much, Sonia!!”

"What's going on?" she asks, and you explain to her the case you're currently working on. She listens intently to your plight and when you're all caught up to speed, she nods once more, armed with far more thorough understanding.

“No problem, I can help you... but are you okay doing this? Is this going to be dangerous? Can’t she move on in a different way?”

“It’ll be fine; I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.”

“Where are you going to hold this fake pageant anyway?”

“I was thinking the lab; I could ask Jace to help with the lighting and we could just fix up a curtain or something around upstairs to use as a changing room and cover the rest of the lab with the whiteboards put together. Picture this, we’ll hang some red drapes over them so it looks like the Miss Galar Beauty Pageant stage. I’m not too bothered about the floor. The floor’s fine.”

“…Okay,” she says, tilting her head to the side.

“And I could ask if Leon could be the ‘judge’ again. Maybe ask Volkner…if he’s up for it…We’ll set up some tables in front of the stage for them to sit.”

“You seem to have a plan already," she comments with a sniff.

“I do,” you reply, “I just hope it all works out.”

…

With Sonia’s help secured, your little plan is indeed coming together rather nicely. Your next task is to ask Jace for assistance for lighting and if he can help fix up some curtains and as usual, he’s glad to help in any way, replying to your text message with multiple smiley face emojis.

You also ask him if Volkner would like to be a guest judge and he says he will check with the gym leader.

There’s plenty to do so you head to the lab where you don your white lab coat, put on your reading glasses and begin your investigation.

You’re not sure why you’ve decided to wear the coat but somehow you feel better wearing it today. It's been a while since you put it on.

At your desk, you put Graves’ application forms to the side for the time being and instead, spread out the contents of the folder Frankie had given you and lay out all the documents, namely the newspaper article about Flora’s death and murderer.

You had spent the taxi ride home reading the contents of the folder and now it’s time to display your findings on your trusty whiteboard which you wipe down, grabbing several pens and some magnets in progress.

Taking a step back, you look at the empty board with marker in hand before scribbling down ‘Miss Galar Beauty Pageant Case’ at the very top before underlining it. The pen squeals loudly with each stroke.

“So we have two sisters, Flora and Francesca Warren aka Frankie,” you write their names along with their ages underneath and attach their photos which you printed off earlier.

Frankie’s photo is a school portrait and Flora is a photo you found online from a previous beauty pageant.

Your audience consists of Vulpix, Mimikyu and Rotom who watch you silently as you work whilst Gengar returns with three cups of steaming hot Boltund Dash Coffee on a tray.

“Thanks Gengar,” you utter, taking the cup off him and he grins in response; he raises his own mug and Mimikyu takes her mug off the tray with a shadowy tendril.

The three of you take a sip at the same time.

“That’s a damn good cup of coffee,” you add.

Gengar nods whilst Mimikyu proceeds to devour the entire cup, swallowing it whole into her body.

“No, no, give that back; that mug belongs to Sonia.”

Mimikyu squeaks angrily but you shake your head firmly. With a growl, she navigates a tendril into her mouth and pulls the mug out and settles it atop the desk. You rub your chin, realising Mimikyu must possess hammerspace.

“Right. Let’s get started then. Flora was to compete in this year’s Miss Galar as Miss Motostoke but unfortunately she passed away a few weeks ago. Frankie immediately came home after news of her elder sister’s death. She was attending boarding school in Kanto. Flora is on the verge of becoming an evil spirit unless we do something about it. She haunts her family and Flora believes she will be able to move on if she gets to participate in a beauty pageant which we can reenact in order to satiate her restless spirit. This can be achieved if I let her possess me.”

Gengar lifts his hand up.

“Yes?”

He says, are you sure about this? Are you okay with a ghost possessing you? What about the incident with Edward Rose?

“I understand your concern but I can risk her possessing me. I managed to expel Edward Rose, I’m sure I can expel her too if anything goes wrong.”

Gengar nods a little unsurely and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Now Flora’s murderer is…” you quickly glance at the article you left on your desk, “Her boyfriend, Hank Walthamstow. Also known as ‘Hank the Tank’ to locals.”

As expected, the news article doesn’t provide enough information, namely the nature of her death. The paper articulates that it was a ‘passion of crime’ and that her boyfriend was suspected of the murder and was in custody.

You ask Rotom to commence a quick search online using viable resources but he comes up with nothing; you’re baffled that there is limited information on her murder but it could be due to Rose censoring negative press on the pageant, which was what he did for his art gallery.

The lack of information frustrates you either way and it means you may need to call Graves, which you won’t do because he has already made it quite clear he does not want you to work on cases and you had also agreed to take a break.

“I suppose I have no choice but to speak to Hank Walthamstow in person then," you mutter, the pokemon watching as you pace up and down. "Let’s find out where he’s being held.”

“Bzzrt, good idea,” says Rotom as he runs a quick search. “Bzzzrt, found him! He’zzzz being held at Wyndon Jail!! Unfortunately, it zzzzeemzzz we have mizzzed vizzziting hourzzz.”

“It’s fine, can you arrange a visit for me first thing tomorrow?”

“You got it!"

“Thanks, Rotom.”

With that out of the way, you pin up Hank’s mugshot beside Flora’s picture. He is an attractive but bulky-looking young man with fearful eyes.

After a few hours of further study, your board has taken more distinct shape and form as you begin to link some of the information together, including a full breakdown of what every contestant had to participate in the beauty pageant, most noticeably a Q&A session, swimsuit and dress catwalk and a talent showcase between three to five minutes long.

Furthermore, the actual Miss Galar beauty pageant took two and a half hours. With Flora as a single contestant, you calculate that you should be able to squeeze everything into roughly half an hour.

Tired and wanting a change of scenery, you head upstairs to sit on the floor with your papers in hand against the white railing, allowing your legs to dangle.

During this time, your pokemon have decided to do other things – Mimikyu and Vulpix are getting along together very well and had spent the remaining hours playing together.

Rotom is sleeping whilst Gengar has remained by your side to help you out with the whiteboard and the documents.

Leon had messaged you earlier too, informing you that he will pop by the lab when he’s finished, which inexplicably makes you plough through your work at an increased pace so you are ready when he is due to arrive. It's growing dark outside and the lab is swamped in a tawny orange glow from the sunset outside.

You yawn and your stomach grumbles loudly. You’ve been so wrapped up you did not even eat.

A gentle knock on the door grabs your attention and you peer through the gaps of the railing as the door is pushed open; Leon enters along with Charizard at his heels, glancing around until he looks up and spots you upstairs.

“Leon! Charizard!” you exclaim happily.

“Hey – oh,” he looks stunned by your appearance, “I’ve never seen you wearing your coat before.”

“Oh, this old thing? Yeah, that’s because whenever I wore it outside, people kept staring. It attracts too much attention.”

Leon looks at you from head to toe before his cheeks turn a bit pink. “…It suits you,” he utters and you grin in response, standing up and dusting yourself down. “Anyway, are you ready to go? My mum says she has a surprise for us.”

“Sure, I’m almost ready. Just let me get the rest of my papers….”

Leon and Charizard saunter further into the lab and he heads over to the whiteboard and your desk, peering at a small stack of books in one corner before ultimately realising that you’re the author.

Intrigued, he flips through them one by one and as you approach, he murmurs, “I had no idea that you had written and published several books.”

You hop down the stairs and in front of him, shrugging and with your hands in your pocket, “I don’t like to throw it out there.”

Leon smiles at you appreciatively; he is seeing you in a new light and you ask if he’d like to keep one but he tells you he wants to go to the stores and buy it to further support you.

You didn't quite greet him properly and he's thinking the same as he shyly reaches for your hand and tugs you closer to him, sliding his strong and sturdy arms around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your cheek against the fluffy, soft material of his cape. You close your eyes and sigh quietly, relishing the feel of being in his arms as he buries his nose against the side of your head and into your hair.

"How was work?" you ask, your muffled against the thick fabric.

"Fine," he replies, though he sounds tired.

He proceeds to tell you everything he did whilst you hold onto him tightly, snuggling against his chest and enjoying his warmth and he chuckles before he smooths his hand over your hair and pecks the crown of your head.

Unfortunately, you must pull away and he flings his glance to your whiteboard; it is full of your diagrams, bullet points, blurbs and random scribbles. Some of them are connected together by a red string and pins.

Stunned by the intricacy of it all, Leon asks, “What is all this?”

“It's for the new case; it’s rather complicated."

“How so?”

“Here, let me explain. Have a seat,” you guide him to sit down on an empty chair in front of the board.

As he sits, he crosses his arms over his broad chest and his muscles clench under his tight-fitted champion shirt. You gulp down unconsciously as you receive an eyeful, heading to the board to begin the explanation of your findings.

“The hairclip we discovered last night belongs to a dead beauty pageant contestant called Flora Warren. She was Miss Motostoke. According to the press and police reports, she was murdered by her boyfriend, Hank Walthamstow.”

You witness the wince on Leon’s face yet you continue.

“He’s from Stow-on-side and he trained with Bea as a Blackbelt,” you say, gesturing to his mugshot on the board, “He’s currently being held in Wyndon, pleading not guilty. Flora’s body showed signs of struggle and assault. I don’t have a full autopsy report but it said her exact time of death can’t be determined due to the decomposition of her body when she was found but the good thing is I’ve seen her ghost and from what I can see, she appears as she died. Her neck is broken and she has several grievous injuries on her head.

“Her Rotom phone is missing and it’s believed Hank did away with Rotom as well…which is easier to do than people think. All you need to do is separate a Rotom from its device to incapacitate it. I met her family today - her little sister wants me to help her move on, but I believe the circumstances of her death warrants further investigation so I booked myself in for a visit tomorrow and I’ll speak to Hank myself.

“I’ve also spoken to Flora and she believes she will move on if she gets the chance to compete in the pageant. She doesn’t remember anything about her murder either so for the time being, I’ve proposed we reenact the pageant to appease her spirit. I will let Flora possess me so she can carry out her performances and move on. I’ve already asked Sonia and Jace for help and they’ve agreed.”

It occurs to you that you have never spoken to anyone except Jace and Sonia when it comes to cases and you’re somewhat nervous about Leon’s response to all of this.

The conflict is evident on his face. “...She’s certain she’ll move on if she competes in the pageant?”

You nod.

“This sounds dangerous.”

“I’ll be okay, Leon. Trust me,” you reassure him. “She’s on the verge of becoming an evil spirit. If we don’t act now, it’ll be too late.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Are you certain about this?”

“I know this sounds crazy, but yes I am. Please trust me. I know what I'm doing.”

He nods. “Okay. I trust you and it sounds like you need my help too so I’ll help you in any way I can. Ah, I can be the judge,” he replies with a grin, “I should be free this Saturday evening.”

How amazing is it that Leon will extend his help no matter what the circumstances are?

“Leon! Thank you so much! I could bloody well kiss you right now,” you belt out without thinking twice before you step forwards, placing your hands on each side of his face before pressing your lips against his quickly.

Taken aback by the kiss, Leon blushes furiously but he’s smiling when you pull away.

“Great!” you continue to exclaim to yourself, twirling the cane in your hands happily. “Everything’s all coming together nicely.”

“How do we know if Flora has moved on? And when she’s possessing you, will you still be yourself?”

“If I remember correctly... when Edward Rose possessed me, I was still me. I was self-aware," you mutter, “And I should know if Flora has moved on or not. Hopefully, we’ll able to witness it. Do you have any further questions?”

Leon ponders before he throws a quick glance to one of your books. “I’ve never asked you about your research. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you earlier..."

You smile widely, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. What would you like to know?”

“What kind of research have you conducted regarding the spirit world?”

“Excellent question. Allow me to elaborate.”

Swapping the cane for a marker pen, you switch the board to the other side where it is clean and blank.

“It’s known that we occupy a three dimensional space,” you say as you draw various lines messily on the board, “dimensions are simply the different facets of what we perceive to be reality. However, it is widely theoreticized that there are more dimensions, either within these or in between these or even outside of these.

"The possibilities are simply endless, but this also means that across these millions of universes, there is a singular universe which has remained constant and consistent across all of these since the creation of the universe.”

Leon continues to watch as you feverishly draw on the board, drawing various overlapping circles along with arrows going right and left and back again, crossing over each other.

“And this singular, consistent universe is known as the spirit world, or ghost world, land of the dead, the great beyond, take your pick,” you mutter, “it’s another dimension that solely exists outside of time and space and has remained unchanged and unaffected for eons. It’s where spirits and ghost pokemon reside and they can freely travel back and forth between their world and our world. Unlike our universe, separate universes cannot be branched off from this one. It will always remain as one, singular spirit world.

“However, our ability to comprehend it is simply beyond our mental capacity. Does this mean heaven and hell does not exist? Not really, the spirit world could be a form of limbo or purgatory. So you’re probably thinking ‘what does this all mean?’, ‘what does this world look like’ and ‘who created it’?? Well, these are certainly great questions and I myself haven’t seen what the spirit world looks like because Gengar once informed me one had to be dead in order to get there but I’ve seen a portal before.”

“Where?”

“In the basement of my old house. My dad researched on communication between the spirit world and our world. He discovered there's many forms. Ghost pokemon, for example, are a source of communication. They're pretty much bridges between our world and theirs but there's still a lot we don't know about them. My dad also discovered the spirit world can receive and transmit communication in the form of binary or morse code but we never figured out the origins of the transmissions-“

Leon waits for you to finish, but you grow silent.

“...Anyway, the answer as to who or what created it, Ezra told me it was created when the universe was created...which was probably fourteen billion years ago, maybe more, but that’s another can of Weedles for another day.”

"What about Arceus?"

"Ezra says it wasn't Arceus. It was before Arceus."

"The legends say there was a void before Arceus."

"Well, yes, but who or what created the void, thus creating Arceus? Who is the creator of Arceus?"

"...The void?"

"Okay, but if I go back to my previous point, why was there even a void in the first place? And where did the void come from? I could dive into quantum physics and talk about the Big Bang Theory but scientists are still asking the question, 'what was the absolute beginning', 'was there something before it'?"

“I think people are quite content not thinking about that, or knowing in general," Leon replies, placing a hand under his chin in thought, "they’re rather content with the legend of the void.”

"That's what they teach kids in schools, surely there must be more."

Leon looks confused and you finish with a heavy inhale and an equally ragged exhale; your head is beginning to throb, your vision growing dim. Exhausted, your body no longer seems to obey you and you start to sway on your spot until your legs give way.

Leon rushes forwards and catches you in his arms, sweeping you up.

“Hey, are you okay? Take it easy…” he murmurs your name soothingly whilst you deliriously moan and mumble for him under your breath, “You need to rest.”

You shake your head weakly as he applies his palm over your forehead. Luckily, you’re not coming down with something.

“Have you had anything to drink?”

“Yeah…coffee and tea.”

“And when’s the last time you ate?” he asks as he scoops an arm under the back of your knees whilst his other arm remains firm around your shoulder; he effortlessly lifts you up bridal style and carries you towards the direction of the couch.

“I…I think it was this morning…when we were camping…before we left to watch the sunrise…” you croak out sluggishly.

His eyes widen; that was more than twelve hours ago. He shakes his head. This simply won’t do. Once he’s arrived at the couch, he seats himself down and props you up in his arms, letting you rest comfortably against him.

Leon slips off his cloak before he lets go of you briefly to drape the cloak over your body and bundle you up. The cape is so nice and cosy. As the thick fluff of his cape tickles the base of your nose, you unconsciously rub your cheek against it. You sigh contentedly and let yourself sink against the rich, soft material as he carefully wraps you inside before he settles his arms around you once more and rests his chin atop your head.

He glances around the lab or so and the lab descends into silence for a second time; he sits with you for a few minutes or so until you stir and reopen your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Nmm…I’m fine…let’s go…your mum’s waiting…can’t afford to waste any more time,” you mutter, and he nods.

Releasing you, you carefully slide out of his hold and stand to stretch whilst Leon reattaches his cape back over his shoulders. You recall your pokemon and swapping your white coat for a warmer one, you join Leon at the door after ensuring the lab is properly closed up before locking up.

It’s dark outside and Leon offers you his hand.

Together, you make your way down the path, walking close, shoulders bumping. He’ll look at you and when you look at him, he’ll smile and squeeze your fingers.

“I told Sonia we’re together," you blurt out.

“Oh...how’d she take it?”

“She was really happy for us.”

Leon goes pink in response.

“I haven’t told Jace yet. I messaged Graves earlier. I don’t know how he will react.”

“…I haven’t told Raihan yet,” Leon confesses, “he's the gym leader of Hammerlocke."

"Oh."

"We're good friends and he’s always asking me to go on a double date with him and his girlfriend.”

“You can go now."

"Ah, yes, if you want."

Once you arrive at Leon’s house, the outdoor lights are switched off which you find strange; the front door opens and his mother and Hop greet you at the doorway, waving happily.

“Welcome home!!!” they cheer.

Leon’s mum is dressed in a chef’s outfit whilst Hop is wearing a bartender’s uniform, complete with bowtie. He tosses some confetti and blows into a kazoo whilst Wooloo bleats loudly by his heels.

“Mum…Hop, what’s going on?” Leon asks, bewildered.

“We’ve prepared a nice dinner for you!” Leon’s mother exclaims and she quickly hauls you both inside and slams the door shut. “You two must be starving.”

You and Leon exchange glances before he grins widely and you let out a chuckle under your breath.

“I’ll be your chef today and the Hop-meister will be your maître d’.” Leon’s mum adds with a grin.

“May I take your coat, ma’am?” Hop asks, with his arm out.

“Oh, Hop,” you squeak out, whilst Leon looks a little embarrassed. His mother merely winks at him however, so it’s best to play along with their little skit and you remove your coat. “Thank you.”

Hop gathers your coat and turns to Leon next, “And may I take your cape, sir?”

“Um…okay, thanks,” Leon removes his cape and hands it to his brother who proceeds to scurry to the coat rack with Wooloo bounding after him.

“Unfortunately, dinner won’t be ready for another ten minutes. I do apologise for the wait but I will send your maître d’ to get you when it is ready,” Leon’s mum says and she grabs Hop and they return to the kitchen, leaving you and Leon alone.

With a smile, Leon nudges his head to the stairs. “I have something to show you.”

Slipping your hand into his, you both scale the staircase and he follows the signs to his room; once inside, he flicks on the light and you move to sit on the bed. His room hasn't changed a bit; it looks exactly the same as last time.

He heads to his closet, opening the doors to reveal a hanger that’s holding up a red coat with a black lapel, gold buttons and cuffs. There are also a pair of pale light trousers and black riding boots to complete the look.

“This is what I’m wearing to the party,” he says as you stand up and join his side.

“It's lovely. I should wear something that matches this then,” you utter and an image of a wine red dress with black heels springs in your mind. Maybe you could complete it by fastening a white corsage?

Leon blushes. “Um, yes, but it’s entirely up to you.”

“I still don’t know how to dance though.”

“Let’s practice now. Give me your hand.”

You feel anxious as you slip your hand into his; he holds it firmly then slips his other hand over your waist. You're standing very close together and you throw your glance around, wondering if there’s enough room in general and when you look at him, you notice he hasn’t looked away from you, his gaze pinned on your form.

“I’ll lead, starting with my left foot, so you should step back with your right,” he instructs, and you nod.

He steps forwards and you move backwards.

“That’s one step. Now I’ll step forwards with my right foot and you should step back with your left.”

You nod once more and you both complete the next step as he had outlined. Leon moves onto the third step and so forth. Soon, you have completed the simple steps and have shifted from the middle of the room to a corner near the desk, although you did step on his foot once or twice during the process.

“Sorry,” you say but he grins.

“It’s alright. You’re learning really quickly.”

“Thanks, I’ll practise more at home.”

“Just remember one-two-three.”

“Thanks for teaching me,” you reply, and Leon lets go of your hand to hold you by your waist.

“Um…should we practice now?” He asks shyly.

“Dancing?”

“No, not…uh, not dancing.”

His cheeks go pink again and you realise what he is talking about.

“Oh, right,” you reply, “yes, let’s practise."

"Should we sit down?" he suggests, "...the bed?"

You nod and together, you wordlessly climb over his bed, the mattress shifting under your combined weight as you sit opposite each other, cross-legged.

Your gazes meet and Leon's face soars to various shades of red as you clear your throat and you furl and unfurl your hands with trepidation, ready to begin. He watches you silently, his golden eyes glued to your form until he begins to lean forwards and you do the same until you are inches away from each other.

Leon drops his gaze to your lips before closing the gap, gently tilting your face up with his hand under your chin.

You blush from the action, closing your eyes as your lips finally meet. So much for practice, you think to yourself as Leon ravishes your mouth with his own; it’s a sloppier, needier kiss compared to last night and this morning, as though he's making up for the time you had spent apart. Leon presses his lips against you hungrily, deepening the kiss, and you’re not in the mood to correct him in any way.

Enjoying the feel of his mouth against yours, you kiss for what seems to be a long time and the room is quiet save for the sounds of your lips meeting and some light, muffled moans from the back of your throats. You move your arms to rest around the back of his neck, pecking him on the lips affectionately and he smiles against your mouths before encircling his arms around your waist and drawing you into his lap, capturing your mouth once again.

A polite knock on the door makes you both retreat in a span of a second, your hands untangling from each other.

“Hop!” Leon exclaims loudly whilst you pull down your shirt and adjust your hair.

Hop is grinning widely at you two and you cannot help but think how much he saw. “Pardon my intrusion, but your table is ready. If you’d kindly follow me, please.”

Leaving Leon’s room, Hop leads you downstairs, into the kitchen and towards the backdoor.

A nice aroma wafts in the kitchen, which is a chaotic mess; there’s a tower of dirty dishes sitting in the sink and all the hobs are occupied with all sorts of pots and pans. Leon’s mum is busy tidying up, but she shoots you a grin.

You step out of the house and into their back garden and you don’t see anything out of the ordinary until Hop flips a switch and the entire back garden flickers into life.

Their gazebo has been decorated with roses and fairy lights, along with a small two-seater table that has been carefully set up for you and Leon in the middle of the garden. The table is decorated with a candlestick and rose petals have been carefully scattered over the floor, lining the path.

Leon is stunned as you stand side-by-side; you let out a gasp of awe and Hop leads you to the table.

Hop pulls the seat out for you and as you sit down, thanking him, he presents you with a menu. Meanwhile, Wooloo throws a napkin over your lap and does the same for Leon.

You throw a quick glance to the Champion, who is obviously overwhelmed by the entirety of it at all.

Inspecting the menu, it’s been written by Hop in his neatest handwriting and you see there are two options for starters and desserts and three choices of main course. Leon’s mum and Hop have really outdone themselves. He leaves you alone so you can go through the menu together.

“Leon, your family are so lovely,” you mutter, watching as his cheeks go pink, “this is amazing.”

“They know how difficult it is for me to be seen in public with someone, especially if we were to have dinner but I apologise if this is too much for you, I can ask them to tone it down," Leon replies.

“No, there’s no need. This is wonderful."

Hop returns with a little notebook and pen a few minutes later. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, we are, thank you,” you reply with a giggle, “I’ll have the salad for the starter and the fish for the main course.”

“Fine choice. Our fish is the most delicious in all of Galar and are simply sublime, madam,” Hop says with a grin. “And what would you like for dessert?”

“I’ll go for the tiramisu.”

“Fantastic. And for you, good sir?”

Leon gives his little brother a wide smile in response and orders the soup, steak and sorbet.

“Excellent choice, sir. It’s our chef’s specialty. And what would you like for drinks?”

“I’ll have a beer.”

“I’ll have water,” Leon says. Looks like he’s wanting to play safe.

“Very good. Thank you very much.” Hop collects your menus and returns to the kitchen with Wooloo.

As you wait for the food, you and Leon chat as Hop makes several trips to and from the kitchen; he sets a glass on the table filled with iced water along with your can of beer and promptly leaves, then re-emerges a few minutes later, balancing a plate and bowl in hands. It’s the soup and salad and Leon’s mum watches you through the window as Hops serves the starters.

“Bon appetit,” he says, kissing his fingers with a smack and you laugh as he bows and saunters away.

He joins his mother’s side in the kitchen, they exchange a high five, then they peer at the two of you outside, grinning hopefully.

You eat the salad quickly, growing nervous as you and Leon eat in this romantic candlelit setting. You’re aware of how close you are, that he’s watching you and suddenly you’re conscious of the way how you eat and also how handsome he is under the dim flickering light. When you look up, he's still looking at you and to calm your nerves, you take a few sips of your beer.

He inches his chair closer to yours and when the main course arrives, Leon’s mum suddenly steps outside, stops shortly in front of your table and does a little bow. She’s holding a bagpipe which she settles neatly into its proper position in her arms and she briefly explains that she will be tonight’s entertainment.

Clearing her throat, Leon’s mum takes a deep breath and begins to play, filling the garden with a loud but jaunty tune. You watch her cheeks puffing and her face seems to go a little red and when she’s finished, she wheezes slightly and wipes her forehead.

“Phew! I still have it in me…” she utters whilst you and Leon burst into applause. “Thank you, thank you, my dears…do enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She departs hastily after a bow so you can eat.

The evening progresses and Leon moves his chair even closer; you are sitting so close together he can place his hand over yours. And when the dessert arrives, you are so full you’re not sure if you can eat it but Leon’s mum had put so much effort in putting this dinner together just for you and Leon so you tuck in as much as possible despite your protesting stomach.

Hop eventually returns to clean up the plates once you’re finished, Leon wipes his mouth neatly with a napkin before rising from his seat and you look up at him expectantly as he offers you his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

“I would love to,” you reply, slipping your hand into his with a smile.

He pulls you up onto your feet and leads you further into the gazebo, sliding his arm around your waist securely whilst you loop your arm over his shoulder as he had taught you; with your hand in his, he begins to lead you around the small space of the gazebo.

Recalling his earlier instructions, you repeat the mantra of ‘one-two-three’ in an attempt to match his steps and to your surprise, you’re able to keep up with him and also, you have barely made any errors.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” you mutter.

“You’re doing great," he replies, and you smile as you complete another circle around the gazebo together.

You wish this evening will never end.

…

Meanwhile.

In Wyndon, Graves relaxes at home in his robe and slippers. He is a busy man but it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t take some time off for himself every now and then for self-care.

And what a marvellous day today had been.

He had no problems, no issues at work. Everything had gone swimmingly and he had left the office in a good mood.

He didn’t think anything would ruin this day.

With his feet up on the table, he lounges in his leather recliner with a hot towel slapped over his face, eyes closed as soothing music plays in the background of his lounge.

“Ah, this is the life,” he mutters as he sinks into his plush armchair.

Suddenly, his phone hovers into the room, bobbing up and down by his shoulder. “Sir, you have a message from your god-daughter.”

“What is it? Read it out for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Rotom replies, before he says loudly, “I’m dating Leon. Thought you ought to know.”

Graves sits up properly, the towel peeling off his face and dropping over his lap.

“WHAT?”

…

#pokemon #pkmn #pokemon sword #pokemonshield #pokemonswordandshield #pokemonshieldsword #dande #leon #Leon x you #Leon x reader #fic #fanfic #jeralee #Comfort in Despair #reader #you #reader insert

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whenrockwasyoung19 · 4 years

Text

It’s Time to Talk about a Bespectacled Elephant in the Room

I’ve been in the Beatles fandom for 8 and a half years. I have had a Beatles blog for the entirety of those 8 and a half years, and I have watched as discourse about these four men evolve. The discourse inside and outside the fandom has become so toxic that I don’t think I can engage with it in the same way that I could before. Let me explain.

When I entered this fandom 8 and a half years ago, it was in 2012, quite an infamous year in tumblr history. That was the pique of “”cringey”” fandom culture. The Beatles fandom was as steeped in fandom culture as any other fandom. I know this because I was part of two of the top of fandoms at the time, Doctor Who and Sherlock. Believe me, I have seen cringe.

The fandom at the time was totally aware of the John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s flaws as individuals, but most fans tended to simply enjoy Beatles fandom as if it were the 60s. Some might call it ignorant bliss. If you asked me at the time, I’d have said it was self-aware ignorant bliss--if that even makes sense. At the time, there wasn’t a person with a Beatles icon who hadn’t heard the line “John Lennon beat his wife.” Everyone knew it, but everyone also knew the real story, and so everyone just made peace with it. As a result, people didn’t think about every bad thing the Beatles ever did on a daily basis. It was more like a once-a-month kind of thing. Otherwise, fandom discourse was quite fun and relaxed. There were no shipping wars, no one fought over who was the best Beatle, everyone gushed over the Beatles wives, and we all just had fun with fics and fan art.

Of course, in this period, people engaged in conversations about one bespectacled Beatles problematic behavior. These conversations usually came from outside of the fandom. It was usually randos coming into the tags or into someone’s ask box and ranting about John Lennon’s violent behavior. Some of it came from within the fandom. Some people really didn’t like John and gave others shit if they listed John as their favorite Beatle. A lot of the discourse boiled down to: ‘hey, I see you like John Lennon. You should know that he beat his wife. And now that you know that, you should feel bad about ever liking him in the first place.’ And the response was often, ‘Actually, John Lennon didn’t beat his wife. They weren’t even married at the time. And also he didn’t beat her, he slapped her once in the face, and then never did it again.’ No one’s minds were changed. The fans had made their peace, and the antis came off as cynical and pretentious.

When Dashcon happened, and Tumblr took a hard look at its cringey fandom culture, the Beatles fandom evolved as well. The fandom became, frankly, less fun. It no longer felt like a group of people who found the Beatles decades after the 60s and were fangirling like it was 1965. There was still some of that left, but a lot of it kind of faded. So, most fandom interactions were reblogging pictures of the Beatles from the 60s and various interview clips and quotes. But the barrage of antis never really went away, and the response didn’t evolve.

Then, the advent of cancel culture came on. I always waited for the Beatles to get, like, officially canceled, but I also felt they were uncancel-able at the same time. Let me explain. I have been a Beatles fan primarily in an online space, rarely engaging with fans in real life. But I have met fans who are life-long Beatles fans, people who are a lot older than us and who’s fandom isn’t tied to the internet. They don’t give a shit about any of our discourse. They may or may not have heard it before, but they seem totally indifferent to all of it. I’m sure most of them have never heard ‘Mclennon’ before. These are the people that flock to see Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert (and pay astronomical prices for it). These are the people who go to record shops and buy vinyl. These are the people I run into at flea markets who buy up all the Beatles merch before I can even arrive (true story). So, the Beatles will never be canceled because there will always be people who love the Beatles and don’t engage with online discourse. Rarely said, but thank god for Gen-X.

As cancel culture took over the internet, fandoms changed. It’s not as noticeable in fandoms without problematic favs. For instance, I’m also steeped in the Tom Holland fandom, and that boy is a little angel who has done no wrong. No one has discourse about the unproblematic boy who plays an equally unproblematic character. But in fandoms with ‘problematic favs’ the mood has shifted. I’m also in the Taron Egerton fandom. Taron Egerton, for those who only follow me for my Beatles stuff, is a genuinely sweet and kind person who has had zero scandals in his six year career. There were some rumblings when he was cast as Elton John, and some people took issue with the fact that he’s a straight man playing a gay man. This discourse seemed to die quickly as a whole lot of straight people played gay people in that same year (Olivia Coleman as queer Queen Anne, Emma Stone as her queer lover, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury). Why jump on this boy who at the time was still technically on the rise. He’s not exactly the same target as someone like Scarlett Johansson who has her pick of roles. Taron doesn’t have quite that some power in Hollywood, and I think most people made peace with the fact that this was a big role for him, and it’s not really fair to take that away from him. So, all in all, the closest thing to a scandal was something that died pretty much on arrival.

That was until this summer when everything changed. When George Floyd was murdered, celebrities flocked to social media to mourn his loss. Taron’s social media account was silent. For weeks, Taron said nothing about Black Lives Matter or Floyd’s death. This caused outrage in the fandom. Many raced to defend him, starting a hashtage #IstandwithTaron. Others sought to tear him down and anyone who supported him. The kind of mania this one incident caused tore through an otherwise peaceful fandom. What I saw was two sides in a total panic. The antis were people who once had faith that Taron was a good person and were now questioning that. Andthe defenders were people who desperately wanted him to be a good person and were afraid that he wasn’t. In essence, both sides could feel Taron about to get canceled. The defenders wanted to stop it, the antis wanted to ride that wave.

What this long drawn out Taron example is meant to convey: is that cancel culture has put fandoms on edge. One’s fav has to be perfect, otherwise it can jeopardize the existence of the entire fandom. I’ll admit, I was afraid that I’d be some kind of pariah for standing by Taron through all of this. My actions were to basically reason with the antis but still defend Taron. I defend him mostly because I felt that his silence was the result of a needed social media absence and that trying to shame him back onto social media was an invasion of privacy. But I was genuinely afraid that he would get canceled, and the fun of the Taron fandom would be lost.

In the Beatles fandom, it often feels like the Beatles, mainly John, have already been canceled. I see this coming from two different sources: antis from outside of the fandom and antis within the fandom. The outside antis are just the same as the ones from 2012. These are people who like to drop in that John Lennon beat his wife, posting this in the tag (which violates an ancient tumblr real by the way--no hate in the tags).

The antis outside the fandom speak to a larger anti-John Lennon sentiment online. I see references to John Lennon ‘beating his wife’ on Tiktok and twitter. The tone of anti-John Lennon posts has shifted. Before, it felt like the antis were being smug but also argumentative. They wanted to have a conversation about this bit of info they read on Reddit with no context. Now, “John Lennon beating his wife” is practically a meme. It’s a running joke online that John Lennon was a wife beater. I can’t look on my instagram explore page because every so often a John Lennon beats his wife meme will pop up amongst the other, normal, memes.

This change in discourse suggests that the internet has just accepted this as fact now. I should note that back in 2012, it seemed as if few people knew this fact. The fandom knew it, and these random antis knew it, but few others did. Now, because of how common these memes are, it seems to be widespread knowledge.

Consequently, the Beatles fandom, who used to ward off attacks from antis, seems to have given in. I recently saw a post from a Beatles blog (had the URL and icon and everything) that confessed they felt guilty for listening to the Beatles, and I’ve seen similar sentiments expressed in the fandom. People tend to put disclaimers in posts about John or even all four that John is an ‘awful man.’ It seems like the self-aware ignorant bliss has completely gone away. Occasionally, I still see posts joyously talking about Mclennon or reblogs of old photos from the 60s. But the culture has shifted.

Online, it no longer feels comfortable to be a Beatles fan. It feels like you have to own up to 8 decades of mistakes by four men you’ve never met. And, I should note, this is kind of how it feels to be a fan of anything right now. Taron is not canceled today, but he could be tomorrow. It’s this pervasive feeling of guilt that the person you’re supporting may or definitely has or is doing something wrong.

I’ll admit this uncomfortable feeling has expanded into other parts of my fandom life. I listen to their music, and I feel elated--the way I always have. Then, I get these intrusive thoughts which sound like all the worst parts of Twitter combined. It wasn’t always like this. Back in 2012, when I knew almost nothing about them, I saw them as four young men who were full of happiness, love for another, and talent. Back then, listening to their music was exciting and joyous. Sometimes, I fear that I can never feel that way again. Next year, when I finally go to Liverpool, will I be filled with excitement or guilt?

I say all this for a few reasons. One, I love John Lennon. I appreciate all the good he did for the world not just as a musician and an artist but also his advocacy and charity work. I love him, and a part of me will always love him, but observing the change in discourse has enlightened me as a historian. Part of my job is to observe people’s legacies, and John’s is perhaps the most interesting legacy I’ve ever observed. When he died, he was hailed as a saint. But tall poppy syndrome set in, and the antis started. This culture grew and grew to the point where it seems to, at least among the younger generation, taken over the sainthood.

But as a historian and a fan, I have never seen the saint or the devil. I’ve only seen the man, the incredibly flawed man. The thing that these antis never understand is that John Lennon was painfully aware of his own flaws to the point where it made him all the more self-destructive. In essence, his past mistakes caused him to make additional mistakes. But John, aware of his own flaws, always tried to change and was often successful. I’ve talked about this before, but John demonstrated that he was capable of being a good person, like properly so, again and again. After he struck Cynthia, he never hit her again. His shortcomings as a father to Julian weren’t repeated with Sean. He worked on his drinking, his drug addiction, and his anger, trying to overcome those demons till the day he died. By all accounts, the John Lennon that died in 1980 is not the John Lennon who struck Cynthia Powell at school. That John Lennon was living a cleaner, healthier life. He was a better father to both his sons by that point, and was trying to repair his relationship with Julian. He was a good husband to Yoko and saw himself living a long and happy life.

John Lennon cannot and should not be boiled down to just his flaws. It’s one thing as a fan to acknowledge that John is a flawed human being (news flash: they all are), but he is also much bigger than that.

So once again, why am I writing this long, rambling post, once again talking about John Lennon’s virtues? Because if I can’t engage with healthy discourse about the Beatles and John Lennon, then I can’t engage with discourse on the topic at all. So, I probably will post less Beatles stuff because I find it hard to go through the tags or even my dash (well, I can’t really go through my dash anymore for other reasons I’m not going to get into right now). If any of my followers have noticed a lot of Taron posts lately, it’s not just because I love Taron, it’s because Taron’s tag is pretty much the only location on tumblr I feel 100% comfortable in. Any foray into John or the Beatles tags becomes uncomfortable and guilt-ridden quickly.

So, I probably will post less about the Beatles until I can find a blog or a tag that doesn’t give me bad vibes. My fandom will likely outgrow tumblr and the internet. I have a ton of Beatles books; maybe I’ll rely on those. I am doing official scholarly research on them now. Maybe that will be my outlet. I’m sorry if I post less about them now, but it’s really for my own well-being.

#John lennon #the beatles

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questionable-child · 3 years

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Finished another OC drawing because I dunno I just felt like it. I’m thinking his name is gonna be Oliver cause it feels like it fits. He’s a cheery cinnamon roll and is also very chill. He also likes painting a lot. (I tried getting that across by making his scarf look like a paintbrush.) And now Im going to tell the entirety of the story I have hidden deep in my notes app for context and because I feel like it, so that’s what I’ll do. Ok, disclaimer, this is going to sound very dumb, and that’s because it is. So pretty much, the world is like ours, but in the future after most people are dead. But like a really long time ago there was magic and stuff, but everyone stopped using it because technology was better in almost every way. So eventually everyone forgot about it. In about present time though, there was one girl who had magic left, who you’ll hear about a little later. Then humanity died out because of over population and pollution everywhere and everyone starving to death etc. So the story starts with the girl from earlier, who we’ll call Ashley for now, being woken up from her 860 something year slumber since she sealed herself in a cave. Pretty much, Ashley can’t age or die. She’ll always look 13, no matter how old she actually is. So, she sealed herself into a cave so she wouldn’t have to watch everyone she loves die as she is forced to keep living forever and that cycle continuing. I’m just realizing how dark this, is I really haven’t changed my writing style since 4th grade huh? Anyway Vivian who is the girl I posted a drawing of earlier wakes up Ashley. Ashley is all dazed and confused and Vivian explains what happened to humanity and that magic is a completely normal thing now. It’s been about two to three centuries since the apocalypse first happened and the survivors have since made a promise to never use technology again. The plot kinda kicks in when Vivian asks if Ashley if she can help defeat three thieves stealing from her dad’s potion shop. Ashley accepts and they get out of the cave and go to Vivian’s hometown. They find the criminals: Oliver, Leon and Silas and they fight. That’s all I have so far. I’m thinking I’m going to draw Silas and redraw Ashley and probably give her a new name.

#oc art #original character #traditional art

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princess-of-france · 4 years

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I’m interested in your take on Angelo & Isabella w/ personality parallels (also just your opinion on Angelo especially tbh because I feel like I under-analyzed him when I read the play bc I was just. Well, found him scary :P) because obviously w/ your production you’re pretty deep in and I don’t see a lot of MFM content

Oof, this is a loaded question.

I’m happy to answer it, but I think I should make a disclaimer that—as you point out—my opinions of Angelo are skewed by my experiences as an actor inside a specific production. I’m also not an English scholar; I’m a theater artist. My lit crit skills are dodgy at best (as @lizbennett2013 knows all too well), and I don’t believe there is a single way to interpret any character in drama, especially when you’re dealing with heightened text. All I can do is give my honest appraisal of Angelo as I have encountered him dramaturgically through cutting our script, rehearsing Isabella, and seeing his iterations in other productions.

So! Angelo and Isabella. Two sides of the same coin. I really think they are.

Let’s get the obvious stuff out of the way first: Angelo is scary. He just is. His sexually motivated exploitation of authority continues to be one of the most transcendent aspects of this ever-timely play. However you stage it, however you trim the text, whatever charismatic actor you slot into the role, Angelo is a capital-T-Terror and there’s no getting around it. Coercive, manipulative, hypocritical, ruthless, misogynistic, fraudulent, and cruel, he basically spends the entirety of MEASURE FOR MEASURE committing crimes and then soliloquizing about how painful it all is for his bargain-price conscience. You’ll never hear me say he doesn’t deserve his reputation as one of the most reprehensible tyrants in all of Shakespeare.

But.

Of the three defining qualities I see in Angelo—ideological dogmatism, rhetorical prowess, and professional pride—there’s not one of them that is not blisteringly prominent in his antagonist, Isabella. Despite the fact that she’s a Catholic republican (“Butt out of people’s lives, Big Government; God will judge us when we die!”) and he’s a Puritan[ical] bureaucrat (“My job is to regulate people’s lives because purgatory is a myth!”), they have far more in common, cognitively, than not. Understand: I’m not saying that Angelo is not a piece of shit for how he behaves throughout course of the play. Nor am I implying that Isabella is somehow culpable for his masturbatory exercise of power over her. My girl has flaws, but she’s unquestionably the hero of M4M. What I’m trying to articulate is that Angelo and Isabella were born with the same psychological toolkit, which they elect to apply towards radically different purposes. (Think Parseltongue and “It is our choices that show who we truly are, far more than our abilities…”) This shared intellectual arsenal is what makes their pair of scenes in Act Two so iconic. We basically get to watch them play out Newton’s Third Law in real time: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction… As far as rhetoric goes, neither Isabella nor Angelo can overwhelm the other. For every argument she makes in favor of mercy, he punctures it with legalism. For every judicial explication he provides, she dissolves it with morality. One minute, we’re nodding our heads along with Angelo as he explains why Christian values should have no place in a court of law; the next, we’re on our feet cheering for Isabella to convince him to factor human integrity into his role as a public servant. I can’t read 2.2 as anything other than the blueprint for every screenplay Aaron Sorkin ever wrote. It is the ultimate courtroom drama.

Just look at the play’s opening act. Angelo’s hasty promotion aside, both he and Isabella begin the story at the lowest rung of their respective vocational ladders: he’s a would-be Chief Justice, she’s a would-be Prioress. Deputy/nun. Politics/religion. Different spheres/same ambition. And, in like true zealots, both Angelo and Isabella express their commitment to their new duties in terms of self-flagellation:

“You may not so extenuate his offenseFor I have had such faults, but rather tell me,When I that censure him do so offend,Let mine own judgment pattern out my deathAnd nothing come in partial.” (Angelo, II.i.29-33)

“And have you nuns no farther privileges?[…] I speak not as desiring more,But rather wishing a more strict restraintUpon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.” (Isabella, I.iv.1, 3-5)

It’s also worth mentioning that our first introduction to these characters features them scurrying along in the wake of an authority figure they respect.

Act 1, Scene 1: Angelo wants to know the extent to which he can wield his law degree at the pleasure of the Duke of Vienna (the Duke himself!).

Act 1, Scene 4: Isabella wants to know the extent to which she can practice self-denial for the glory of God and the approval of Mother Superior.

They are both drawn to gravitas, to figures who represent order and authority. They are also drawn to discipline. He’s a non-drinking, non-smoking Precision. She’s a gluttony-abhorring Bride of Christ. Let the rest of the world eat cake. They will be eating their sins and purifying their souls, thank you very much.

At the risk of descending into the flaming pits of cliché, I’ll also touch on those three qualities I mentioned earlier, because who says the TPE (Three Paragraph Essay) is dead?

First up: ideological dogmatism.

[Side note: I may be a crappy historian, but I do recognize there’s a historical paradigm at play in this text. Vienna needs to be a Catholic city and Angelo’s Protestantism needs to be allusive because Shakespeare presumably valued all his limbs and didn’t relish the idea of rotting in a Cheapside prison. If he’d lived in a “free press” kind of sociocultural context, he might have endowed his religious figures with a bit more Opinion. I digress.]

In the M4M-centered episode of Isaac Butler’s phenomenal podcast, “Lend Me Your Ears,” he interviews JohnPaul Spiro (Assistant Director of the School of Liberal Arts, Villanova University), who does a wonderfully unfussy job of summing up the Angelo/Isabella ideology parallel:

“In much the same way as our era is filled with political zealots—as well as, to a certain degree, religious zealots—what you’ll find when you look closer is there’s a small number of very loud people who are dominating the discourse. And a lot of people are in the middle and would rather not have to take sides. Claudio, he seems to be monogamous, he seems to want to just live a very simple life, he’s not really concerned with theological things. And when pressed on theological things, his point is: ‘I don’t really know. No one really knows what happen when you die, so I’m scared.’”

Because religious extremism lies at the heart of the rhetorical warfare between Angelo and Isabella, I think there’s a misconception that M4M is a Play About Religion. But the ONLY characters who canonically go to the mat about the finer points of theology are…wait for it…Angelo and Isabella. This is an early modern text brimming with religious figures (Sister Francisca, Friar Thomas, Friar Peter, even the phony Friar Lodowick), but not a single one of them gets on the pulpit about ANYTHING in the course of the entire play. Sister Francisca’s role consists of bemusedly listening to her youthful novitiate describe her desire for stricter prohibitions at the cloister. Friar Thomas, a sycophantic priest whose parish coffers are probably lined with Vincentio’s gold, spends his one onstage scene nodding his head sympathetically as the Duke over-explains why he is disguising himself as a monk. Friar Peter, the poor Jesuit roped into delivering the Duke’s messages, forgoes moralizing and instead uses his limited dialogue to try to help two disenfranchised women receive justice for their abuse. And Friar Lodowick, of course, is nothing but an alias for a cowardly sociopath who wants to run the world without being held accountable for his mistakes. Nothing evangelical about any of that.

But Angelo and Isabella? They can’t shut up about religion.

Isabella wants Angelo to temper his punitive Weltanschauung with morality, ideology, Platonic ideals, metaphysics…in short, all of the intangibles that can’t be used as evidence in a court of law.

“Why, all the souls that were were forfeit onceAnd He that might the vantage best have tookFound out the remedy. How would you be,If He, which is the top of judgment, shouldBut judge you as you are? O, think on thatAnd mercy then will breathe within your lips,Like man new made.” (Isabella, II.ii.97-103)

Angelo, in turn, wants Isabella to recognize the futility of Catholicism as a proper tool for creating heaven on earth because Catholicism permits withdrawal from the world and the abdication of earthly responsibility (cf: nunnery). Instead, he argues, what God actually needs is for people to actively toil in their communities to criminalize, punish, and eradicate sin.

“I show [pity] most of all when I show justice,For then I pity those I do not know,Which a dismissed offense would after gall,And do him right that—answering one foul wrong—Lives not to act another.” (Angelo, II.ii.128-132)

They take up the two sides of a theological debate that predates Christianity: ethics vs. justice. And that conflict is itself inextricably tied to the timeless political debate of non-intervention vs. regulation. And the thing is: even when Angelo and Isabella realize the irreconcilability of their respective schools of thought, they KEEP ARGUING ABOUT IT because extremism is just that: extreme. Angelo and Isabella may be major players in M4M, but they represent the radical minority of their world. They are the “small group of very loud people” and literally everyone is a moderate next to them. Ideology, not desire, is the bedrock of their personhood. When confronted with a person of an uncompromisingly polar viewpoint, they behave as if it might be possible to change the viewpoint of that person because the alternative is to admit defeat. To tragic effect, they hold their ideals more sacred than human life. For Angelo, that ideal is the law (i.e. integrity of action). For Isabella, it’s chastity (i.e. integrity of the soul). They are dogmatic in their beliefs, inflexible in their opinions, and inalienably convinced of their own “rightness.” They are austere, incisive, independent, articulate, and sharp. They are disgusted by the depravity of the world around them and determined to transcend it. What differentiates them is the content of their convictions, but they rate the value of that conviction equally.

So, yes, M4M is a play acutely interested in how religion shapes the law and human behavior. But I would argue that it is really only about one thing: power.

Which brings me to rhetoric.

Angelo and Isabella are lawyers. Both of them. High-powered, quick-thinking, weakness-sniffing, self-righteous litigators. Sure, Isabella may not have the paperwork to prove it; she was conceived by an Englishman in the early 17th century. But much in the same way that it’s obvious to everyone with eyes that would-be nun Maria [von Trapp] is a born music teacher from the first scene of The Sound of Music, so is it evident from Isabella’s first moments onstage that she is a born lawyer. She was, quite simply, born to argue.

Consider her first scene onstage: in the nunnery, with Lucio and Francisca. Unlike the audience, Isabella doesn’t have empirical evidence of Lucio’s amorality and notorious womanizing. She doesn’t need it. She can smell it on him. And in six short lines, she wipes the mosaic-laced marble floor of the cathedral with his ass:

LUCIOCan you so stead meAs bring me to the sight of Isabella,A novice of this place and the fair sisterTo her unhappy brother, Claudio?

ISABELLAWhy her “unhappy brother”? Let me ask,The rather for I now must make you knowI am that Isabella, and his sister.

LUCIOGentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you.Not to be weary with you, he’s in prison.

ISABELLAWoe me, for what?

LUCIOFor that which, if myself might be his judge,He should receive his punishment in thanks:He hath got his friend with child.

ISABELLASir, make me not your story.

LUCIO‘Tis true.I would not, though ‘tis my familiar sinWith maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,Tongue far from heart, play with all virgins so.I hold you as a thing enskied and sainted,By your renouncement an immortal spiritAnd to be talked with in sincerityAs with a saint.

ISABELLAYou do blaspheme the good in mocking me.

(I.iv.18-40)

I’m not going to venture down the English professor’s rabbit hole of rhetorical devices and syntactical analysis—partly because there are thousands of scholars who have already done it better than I ever could (check out Claire McEachern and Julie Felise Dubiner!) and partly because I’ve been blathering for too long in general. But sufficed to say that three hallmarks of a good lawyer are as follows:

The ability to seize and repurpose the language of one’s opponent (“Why her ‘unhappy brother?’”)

The ability to spot and sidestep landmines (“Sir, make me not your story.”)

The ability to redirect conversation (“You do blaspheme.”)

By that metric alone, Isabella’s performance here is worthy of the Harvard Law Review.

And then, of course, two scenes later, she meets her match.

A dear friend of mine, who is a first-year at Georgetown Law and basically the smartest person I’ve ever met, once told me: “The best and worst thing that can happen to a good lawyer is to meet another good lawyer with different ideas.” I do apologize for invoking Sorkin twice in one essay, but honestly: “The President likes smart people who disagree with him” (Leo, The West Wing, 2x05). It is a truth universally acknowledged that however infuriating it is for a highly intelligent person to debate with an equally intelligent person who disagrees with everything they stand for, it can also be unbelievably stimulating and monumentally entertaining to watch. (Hello, 50 million seasons of Law & Order.)

I’m now two weeks deep into rehearsals for M4M and I still get gobsmacked, daily, by the sheer majesty of Angelo’s and Isabella’s rhetoric. Theirs goes so far beyond the mental agility of anyone else in this play, or even—dare I say it—in Shakespeare’s canon. They are beyond intelligent. They are freaky genius kids with the kind of sanctimonious stubbornness that would be obnoxious if it weren’t so damn compelling. Between the two of them, between their two infamous scenes, they pull out every rhetorical trick in the book and play approximately seventeen unique rounds of intellectual checkers. (I say checkers because chess is too slow for them. If you want chilly brinksmanship, check out the Roman plays. Angelo and Isabella have agendas and professional pride on the line. Time is of the essence.)

ISABELLAI do think that you might pardon him,And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.

ANGELOI will not do it.

ISABELLABut can you, if you would?

ANGELOLook, what I cannot, that I will not do.

ISABELLABut might you do it, and do the world no wrongIf so your heart were touched with that remorseAs mine is to him?

ANGELOHe’s sentenced. ‘Tis too late.

ISABELLA“Too late”? Why, no. I, that do speak a word,Might call it back again.

(II.ii.67-78 [italics are mine])

Things get even more complicated when they start moving into those same theoretical marshes I described earlier:

“If he had been as you, and you as he,You would have slipped like him, but he like youWould not have been so stern.” (Isabella, II.ii.84-86)

“The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.Those many had not dared to do that evilIf the first that did th’ edict infringeHad answered for his deed. Now ‘tis awake…” (Angelo, II.ii.117-120)

ENOUGH WITH THE METAPHORS ALREADY. CLAUDIO IS ON DEATH ROW.

And even when they finally, finally get to the point, they remain at an impasse:

ISABELLAYet show some pity.

ANGELOI show it most when I show justice.

(II.ii.127-128)

Which causes Isabella essentially to lose all sense of self-awareness and control because goddam it, never once in her entire life has she met a person she couldn’t out-argue, who the fuck does this deputy think he is, this was supposed to be a simple mission and she’s been standing in this room for ten minutes and he’s still siTTING THERE SMILING AT HER WHAT THE F—

“So you must be the first that gives this sentence,And he that suffers. O, it is excellentTo have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannousTo use it like a giant[…]Could great men thunderAs Jove himself does, Jove would never be quiet,For every pelting, petty officerWould use his heaven for thunder,Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven,Thou rather with thy sharp and sulfurous boltSplits the un-wedgeable and gnarlèd oakThan the soft myrtle. But man, proud man,Dressed in a little brief authority,Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,His glassy essence like an angry apePlays such fantastic tricks before high heavenAs makes the angels weep, who with our spleensWould all themselves laugh mortal.” (Isabella, II.ii.134-152)

Which causes ANGELO to lose all self-awareness and control because goddam it, never once in his entire life has he met a person he couldn’t out-argue, who the fuck does this nun think she is, this was supposed to be a simple smackdown and she’s been standing in this room for ten minutes and he’s still waiting for her to admit defeat and oh God oh no oh no oh no why can’t he look away from her face, what the fuck is happening what the F—

ANGELOWHY DO YOU PUT THESE SAYINGS UPON ME?

ISABELLABecause authority, though it err like others,Hath yet a kind of medicine in itselfThat skins the vice o’ th’ top. Go to your bosom,Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth knowThat’s like my brother’s fault. If it confessA natural guiltiness such as is his,Let it not sound a thought upon your tongueAgainst my brother’s life.

ANGELO, asideShe speaks and ‘tis such senseThat my sense breeds with it.

(II.ii.163-173)

Finally, Angelo gets her to leave and faces the music. My tremendous co-actor, Jude Van der Voorde, always slays this soliloquy.

“What’s this, what’s this? Is this her fault or mine?The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha?Not she; nor doth she tempt, but it is IThat, lying by the violet in the sun,Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,Corrupt with virtuous season.” (Angelo, II.iv.199-204)

[Non sequitur: Jude is the kind of actor actors dream of acting with. He’s always got at least one trick up his sleeve, so my Isabella is constantly second-guessing herself around him. And he does the “sleazy wunderkind act” with a panache rivaling BJ Novak’s in Season 4 of The Office. He’s also one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. Kids, don’t be Method. Make friends with your fellow actors. Leave the emotions onstage and go get a midnight pizza. You will be so much happier.]

With regards to the M4M narrative, we all know what happens next, although it takes an agonizing 175 lines of text in 2.4 before Shakespeare levels off and gives us the canonical threat:

“Redeem thy brotherBy yielding up thy body to my will,Or else he must not only die the death,But thy unkindness shall his death draw outTo lingering sufferance. Answer me tomorrowOr by the affection that now guides me mostI’ll prove a tyrant to him. As for you:Say what you can, my false o’erweighs your true.” (Angelo, II.iv.177-184)

What precedes this is the kind of tension-groaning, hair-splitting, goosebump-raising rhetorical tarantella that television writers today spend their entire careers trying to emulate. Isabella plays the fool for as long as she possibly can…

ANGELONay, but hear me.Your sense pursues not mine. Either you are ignorantOr seem so, crafty, and that’s not good.

ISABELLALet me be ignorant, and in nothing goodBut graciously to know I am no better.

(II.iv.79-83)

…but eventually Angelo forces her hand and she has to deflect his onslaught with the sleek diplomacy of a kidnapping victim.

ISABELLABetter it were a brother died at onceThan that a sister, by redeeming him,Should die forever.

ANGELOWere not you then as cruel as the sentenceThat you have slandered so?

ISABELLAIgnomy in ransom and free pardonAre of two houses. Lawful mercyIs nothing kin to foul redemption.

ANGELOYou seemed of late to make the law a tyrant,And rather proved the sliding of your brotherA merriment than a vice.

ISABELLAO, pardon me, my lord. It oft falls out,To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean.I something do excuse the thing I hateFor his advantage that I dearly love.

(II.iv.114-128)

Remember when I said that Angelo and Isabella are alike in that they are inalienably convinced of their own “rightness”? That still holds true. But now Angelo, without warning, has moved beyond the conceits of debate and is taking Isabella’s rhetorical arguments from 2.2 at literal face value in order to trip her up. He’s brought ideology crashing down to earth and introduced their physical relationship into the conversation…again, without warning and very much without her consent. And she has to figure out a way to back-peddle on her words without yielding defeat of the argument. It is nigh impossible. And I bring it up because guess who gets trapped in the exact same situation three short acts later?

LUCIOCome, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you? Show your knave’s visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour! Will ‘t not off?

(LUCIO pulls off the friar’s hood and reveals the DUKE.)

DUKEThou art the first knave that e’er made’st a duke.—First, Provost, let me bail these gentle three.—Sneak not away, sir, for the friar and youMust have a word anon.—Lay hold on him.

LUCIOThis may prove worse than hanging.

DUKEWhat you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down.We’ll borrow place of him. (to Angelo)Sir, by your leave.Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudenceThat yet can do thee office? If thou hast,Rely upon it till my tale be heardAnd hold no longer out.

ANGELOO my dread lord,I should be guiltier than my guiltinessTo think I can be undiscernible,When I perceive your Grace, like power divine,Hath looked upon my passes. (V.i.395-421)

Game, set, match.

As for ego… Do I really need to talk about professional pride? I don’t think so. It’s Angelo and Isabella. Pride leaks out of every virtually every line they speak in this play. Pride in their conviction, pride in their moral righteousness, pride in their intellect, pride in their ability to judge the world with clarity (or whatever). Angelo actually admits it out loud to us in perhaps his most famous soliloquy, because the little fucker has a lot more Catholic guilt about lusting after a novitiate nun than his Protestant heart would like to admit:

“The state whereon I studiedIs, like a good thing being often read,Grown sere and tedious. Yea, my gravity,Wherein—let no man hear me—I take pride,Could I with boot change for an idle plumeWhich the air beats for vain.” (Angelo, II.iv.7-15)

And even though Isabella could easily be the poster child for Christian piety, she’s so damn proud of her own humility that she occasionally threatens to void it altogether.

ANGELOWhat would you do?

ISABELLAAs much for my poor brother as myself.That is, were I under the terms of death,Th’ impression of keen whips I’d wear as rubiesAnd strip myself to death as to a bedThat longing have been sick for, ere I’d yieldMy body up to shame.

(II.iv.107-111)

Look at me, Angelo. Look at this body. It’s mine. Mine and God’s. I see what you’re doing, I know where you’re trying to go. And it is never. going. to happen.

Two weeks into rehearsal and I’m still not sure I’m convincing in my delivery of these lines. I’ve watched every filmed production of M4M I can get my hands on, and it’s no help. I just don’t know what to make of this. Scholars disagree virulently about these lines, but also…scholars aren’t actors, you know? I find myself questioning everything every time I get to this passage. Is Isabella actually a virgin? I’m not sure. Chastity and virginity aren’t actually the same thing and Isabella, for all her idealism, is more worldly than many of her ingenue brethren. One thing is for sure: she’s flushed with self-righteousness when she speaks these words. Angelo may be a haughty son of a bitch, but so is she, so is she, so is she.

Ugh, these characters. I love them so much. I hate Angelo, I do. I also love him. And God help me I love Isabella. They’re dumpster fires of human conviction and I’m so grateful to Shakespeare for giving us their story and for understanding four hundred fucking years ago, that this, THIS is the pinnacle of hell in the female experience: “Who would believe thee, Isabel?”

#MeToo

Thank you, Will. Thank you.

I feel like I should apologize for the length of this reply, but I’ve had so much freaking fun that I also don’t feel apologetic. Thank you for this amazing question! Hope you’re doing well! xx Claire

Tagging @malvoliowithin @measureformeasure @harry-leroy @suits-of-woe

#measure for measure #m4m 2019

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dtissagirl · 5 years

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I fought the war but the war won

Warning: all the spoilers for Avengers: Endgame.

OF COURSE I have no doubt Natasha would sacrifice herself for the world in a heartbeat.

And between her and Clint, it's obvious her thinking is he can have a future with his ~family~, and she's obviously been insanely isolated these last five years, and filled with regret, and sacrificing herself for her found family [and saving the universe in the process] is worth it for her.

But my problem is I don't acknowledge the existence of Clint's family because that's a dumbass story idea from the worst movie ever GO AWAY LINDA CARDELLINI.

And watching Nat and Clint back together made my heart ache because those two belong together -- romantically if you prefer it so, but mainly together as in partners that work insanely well together in a fictional narrative. They have had this lived-in chemistry from the first Avengers, and I didn't realize how much I had missed it until this movie.

[Fuck Joss Whedon with a cactus forever.]

[Someone make me that Black Widow movie and show me Budapest. I DESERVE IT.]

...

And then the scene with all the dudes in the lake angry-mourning Nat looks REALLY REALLY BAD because the only thing that emotionally rings out of that scene is HOLY SHIT THEY FUCKING KILLED THE ONLY WOMAN OH MY GOD PLEASE END ALL MEN WRITING SUPERHERO STORIES BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW HORRIBLE THE OPTICS ARE WHEN THEY FUCKING KILL THE ONLY ORIGINAL WOMAN AVENGER IN THE FIRST HALF OF THE MOVIE THAT'S SUPPOSED TO CELEBRATE THEIR LEGACY. HOLY FUCK.

...

Holy motherfucking shitballs what they did to Thor was a supreme case of extreme fatphobia. So fucking embarrassing. And they could have done the exact same depression/PTSD shit without a fat suit. Fatness is NOT a character flaw, and for this movie to think it's okay to portray it as such, and for most people in the audience to not even realize how horrible this is... well, that's the fatphobic world we live in everyday wherein thin people don't realize how fucking horrible they are about fatness ALL THE TIME. Ugh.

And hey, I think Hemsworth is a comedic genius at this point, and I'm super glad Hollywood at large has realized he can run circles of funny and comic timing around everybody else [THANKS, GHOSTBUSTERS!], but the fat suit soured it forever in this movie.

...

Look, I know at this point Goop is a hazardous danger to women's health at large, and call me a hypocrite for separating actor and character this particular time when I usually don't, but I love and adore and cherish Pepper Potts with all my heart.

SHE is the reason I'm so connected to the MCU. My hook wasn't any of the superheroes, it was Pepper in the first Iron Man movie. She's the glue that has made me engage with this universe so deeply for the last ten years. All the fanart, all the fic, all the fanworks ever I've created or consumed in the last decade, it has been all about how much I adore Pepper.

And to see her in the Rescue armor in the final battle, I just. I wasn't expecting it. I hadn't even thought it was ever gonna happen, but THIS was the true culmination of the past ten years for me. From now on, I can say it without a doubt every single time someone asks me who's my favorite Avenger. It's Pepper Potts.

[I also kept thinking about my friend S. She would have been so fucking ecstatic about this. It hit me right in the face when Pepper showed up in battle -- I so dearly wish S were here to see this.]

...

Okay, so, disclaimer: I don't have a horse in the Steve Rogers 'shipping infinity wars. I crack 'ship Steve with Maria Hill forever and ever because they would make the prettiest babies on the planet and I don't even like babies. The only part of Ultron that I acknowledge is Maria wearing Steve's jacket at the party. It's the ONLY thing that happened in that movie, NOTHING ELSE DID.

And I don't even blame Steve in any of this mess, to be honest.

The problem here is structural. The narrative went OUT OF THIS WAY to establish HOW time-travel works in this universe. They even got all gloat-y about how every movie ever made was wrong about the ~quantum physics~ of it. They even had bald Tilda Swinton MAKE A POWER POINT PRESENTATION about the rules of time travel.

They set up ONE very specific rule -- changing the past doesn't alter one's own future, it creates a separate timeline of events. O-kay. Pretty simple rule.

...And then Old!Cap who looks scarily like Joe Biden broke that one rule.

Because he did. He went back in time and put all the stones in their proper place in the timeline[1]... and *after that* he went back to the 40s to live happily ever after with Peggy[2], THUS ***CHANGING THE PAST*** and *****CREATING AN ALTERNATE TIMELINE*****.

So there's no. fucking. possible. way. he could have grown old in the original timeline.

And like. They could have fixed that by having Joe Biden Old!Cap legit come back IN THE TIME TRAVEL SUIT IN THE QUANTUM PLATFORM. THAT WOULD HAVE FIXED THIS PROBLEM. But they didn't, so they broke their own story.

And the consequence of this fuck up is... Steve a horrible person. [And even writing that makes me sad because he isn't? He wouldn't ever?] But by breaking their story and their own time-travel rules, it fucks up Steve so badly I wanna cry. So what, he lived a whole life in this same timeline, and did nothing to change anything? Did he marry the future DIRECTOR OF SHIELD and never told her about Hydra? About Bucky? Did he open a newspaper one day and read that Howard and Maria Stark died in a car accident and went, oops? Did he pretend he was sick when his wife told him she was going to the funeral of her lifelong friend?

Do you see how badly it looks? It's bad. The Steve I know and love doesn't deserve this. Please go punch the Russos in the face, Cap.

Notes:

[1] HOW did Steve even put the stones in jewel form back in their proper places in the timeline when they stole the Tesseract in cube form, the mind stone with the scepter, the whatever stone that was they got from Star Lord that was inside an orb... HOW do you even put the soul stone back, like, does Cap go to Vormir and goes, oh hey, RED SKULL MY OLD BUDDY, MY OLE TIME FELLA, here's your soul stone back? Does he get Natasha back for the stone? Isn't it a soul for a soul? Does it work in reverse too?

[2] Hey, so if Steve lived happily ever after with Peggy in this timeline did he erase her future kids? This is Barry Allen levels of fuckupdness, Steve. Gah. And also -- I would pay actual monies to watch time-traveler Steve explain to Peggy that after he went to her funeral he kissed her niece. This is why I 'ship Steve with Maria Hill, man. No complications. Only pretty.

Also: STEVE ROGERS ERASED THE ENTIRETY OF THE AGENT CARTER TV SHOW. That's pretty unforgivable, man. They even had TV show Jarvis right there in this movie driving Tony's dad around in the 70s to make THIS BETRAYAL hurt more.

...

Four hours after I watched the movie I remembered Tony died and started ugly crying again. I'm glad he had those five years of a good life, I'm so glad he had a kid -- that kid, so obviously HIS kid it hurt, I'm so glad Pepper and Rhodey and Peter were there with him in his last moments. I'm glad he got the proper hero death. It still hurts like a son of a bitch.

...

Professor Hulk is a forever delight and he and I need to become besties so we can talk about quantum physics and eat hulkish amounts of breakfast foods every day.

...

I find Thanos to be a complete bore, so every time he sat and started monologuing I stopped paying attention because I DESERVE TO NOT have to listen to giant purple incels pretending they ~know best~ about anything.

But I did appreciate that there was a difference in tone. This was 2014 Thanos, before he went full on cray cray with the monologuing, so he spoke less [bless], and he went full nihilist I AM GOING TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE instead of only half of it ~for balance~ or whatever. Because Infinity Wars tried to make it like Thanos wanting to kill 50% of the universe had some sort of ~logic~ behind it, and that was way too close to ~both sides~ shit, and, no, son. Him wanting to destroy EVERYTHING put him in the right proper category of batshit crazy bananapants deranged, and that's where he should have been ALL ALONG, no ~he has a point~ arguments ever valid, he doesn't, he never did, shut the fuck up.

...

I actually really really enjoyed the pacing of this movie. Granted, I'm not stupid and I took a muscle relaxant beforehand so that I could sit still for one hundred and eighty two fucking minutes, but I honestly didn't feel it drag at all at any time [and I felt all the other Avengers movies drag at some point or another].

I appreciated it so much that the set up for the final battle took waaaaay longer than the final battle. [I know people go ga-ga for battle scenes, but eh. I prefer my superheroes as pretty people who talk really fast, and battles make them stop talking.]

My favorite sequence was the revisiting of the previous movies. I loved every single piece of it, and I know in my heart that I'm gonna rewatch those sequences over and over and over again for the rest of forever. THE CAP 2 ELEVATOR SCENE REENACTMENT BUT NOT REALLY OH MY GOD THAT WAS GLORIOUS.

Also Loki stealing the Tesseract [again!] was aces. Sure it was to set up extra time-travel shenanigans, but still. Loki and the Tesseract belong together. Please let this be the premise of the Disney+ series.

...

Even though battle sequences aren't really my thing, I would like to express my DEEP ABIDING LOVE for the part when all the women got together to help Peter move the Big Glove of Kitsch towards the van. My packed theater clapped so hard. I cried.

...

HOW DOES PETER PARKER GO BACK TO SCHOOL FIVE YEARS LATER AND HIS BUDDY IS STILL THERE DID HIS BUDDY FLUNK HIGH SCHOOL FIVE YEARS IN A ROW? WHAT?

...

Also Cap and the Hammer, the actual true love story of this movie. Thor's little "I knew it". I knew it too, buddy.

...

I'm gonna need Marvel to release the behind the scenes footage of the filming of Tony's funeral. I hope the cast had an actual party right there, all somberly dressed in black and everything.

...

After a full season of 22 episodes of television in a movie screen, this was a pretty great finale. Congrats on making the most expensive tv show of all time, Marvel. Excelsior!

#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #movie #spoilers

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sindrafalcone · 6 years

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A Sunday Kind of Love

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun x Reader

Synopsis: our bedroom is cold, and the rain is pattering quietly against the windows, but we’re snuggled up warm beneath the covers in each other’s arms, half paying attention to a movie as we exchange sleepy kisses.

Warnings: I don’t know how, but it got a little angsty here and there. But it’s mostly fluffy, I promise. <3

Author’s Note: Y’all can blame @chanyeolspout for this one. I promise that I’m still working on ‘White Love’ but it’s fighting me. Hopefully this makes up for that a little bit. Besides, it’s nice to write something Seung Hyun related again.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Suggested Listening: A Sunday Kind of Love ~ Etta James

Masterlist

You felt the cold chill of winter nipping at the skin of your back when you awoke early one Sunday morning. Keeping your eyes tightly shut, you lay there shivering defiantly before finally conceding and cracking open one eye, wincing at the brightness that overwhelmed it. You sleepily fumbled around with a desperate hand for the comforter but found nothing but cold sheets. Rolling over, you looked at the body beside you, cocooned in stolen blankets. You wanted to bitch and gripe about the injustice of it all and steal your covers back. But then you saw the black hair peeping out from the soft folds and heard the hushed noises of your boyfriend in his sleep, so you ended up just nudging him gently with an almost numb foot.

“________-ah...” his scratchy voice whined after a few moments.

“You stole the covers again.” you whined back, continuing to nudge him increasingly harder.

“Sorry.” Seung Hyun apologized, but without much sincerity. He didn’t even show signs of stirring to share the blankets.

“Seung Hyun!” your voice was even whinier this time, as you inched over to Seung Hyun's side of the bed (the left side) and pulled at the covers that were firmly wedged beneath him. “Move, you pabo!”

He let out a frustrated grunt and finally rolled over to face you. But before you could grab the covers, he quickly jerked them over the entirety of your body and scooped you up. Your muffled protests were soon hushed when Seung Hyun pressed you against his chest.

You felt a little disoriented for that brief moment of pulling and tangling of limbs, until you were comfortably situated under the covers and inside Seung Hyun's strong arms. He wasn’t just sharing the covers, but his warmth as well. And the heat of his lean, strong body was now warming your own cold skin. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your half-frozen feet against the back of Seung Hyun's legs. Perhaps you’d forgive him for stealing all the covers... just this once.

“You’re so cold, kitten.” Seung Hyun whispered into your bed-head, pressing his lips and nose into it. You would’ve kicked him hard in the shin, because obviously your current condition was his fault. But that term of endearment, along with the feeling of him kissing your head & holding you, curbed your thoughts of violence. So instead of kicking him, you found yourself practically melting into the blissful warmth of it all. God, you’d fallen deep

This was what you’d been waiting for all these years... Well, maybe not this, exactly. To be honest, you could do without the cover stealing and almost freezing to death. But you had been waiting for someone like Seung Hyun in the very least. And you’d take him no matter how much of a total brat he could be sometimes.

You looked up at your boyfriend, who was smiling at you in a rather self-satisfied way. You let out an unimpressed huff because Seung Hyun seemed a little too proud of himself, and you refused to indulge him. But you did any way, whether directly or indirectly, because you were his kitten now (heaven help you), and you eventually pressed your face back into the warmth of Seung Hyun's chest.

It smelled really nice too, still vaguely reminiscent yesterday's cologne and you snuggled closer, clinging tightly to the man like if you let go the world would break. Neither of you quite fell back asleep, because you were both already awake, but still stuck in that lazy limbo of Sunday morning bliss.

Suddenly the morning sun was dampened by darkened clouds, and the fond pitter-patter of rain sounded against the window, making you feel instantly nostalgic and even more heavy-limbed. You loved the rain on days like this, when you could just lie in bed all day without any disturbance. You also liked it when Seung Hyun wasn't there, even though there was also something very lonesome and melancholy about it. But since he was actually home for once, doing nothing but napping and watching TV and listening to the rain sounded even sweeter.

You stretched, feeling the lovely slide of Seung Hyun's legs against yours as you moved. You both yawned a few times, never quite overcoming that sleepy, just-woken-up feeling. He moved against you and aired out the comforter, feeling a bit too warm from the suffocating entanglement you’d made of each other.

“I guess I’ll go make some coffee.” he said with a tired sigh, carefully pulling his arms from around you and hopping out of bed.

“Don’t be gone too long.” you told him coyly.

You watched Seung Hyun leave the room through heavy-lidded eyes, his pert butt cheeks moved up and down in his pajamas as he wandered out the open door and into the kitchen. You'd come to love everything about him, including his propensity for always wearing clothes. Well... almost always.

You got out of bed and decided to brush your teeth and wash your face to try and wake up a bit. Just as the smell of coffee started permeating the air & you could hear Seung Hyun shuffling cups and plates in the kitchen, you finished up and jumped back into bed... right before he returned with coffee and toast.

“Hi.” you beamed up at him innocently, fluttering your eyelashes.

“What?” Seung Hyun asked, eyeing you and wondering what you were up to this time. He set the tray down on the nightstand and got back under the covers.

“Nothing.” you said, still smiling. Seung Hyun gave you another suspicious look, clearly waiting for you to explain further. “Here, I’ll show you.” His eyes went wide when you leaned over him and pinned his arms to the bed.

“Wha—” Seung Hyun mumbled, cut off by your lips on his, and then your tongue, sliding into his mouth. You tasted minty and sweet, shockingly so, just like toothpaste. Seung Hyun quickly returned the kiss despite his surprise, easily freeing his arms and pulling you close so that your bodies fit snugly against one another.

He hadn’t had a chance to brush yet, but you weren't complaining. Even though you could feel the grit on the surface Seung Hyun's teeth when you ran your tongue over them, your taste buds were still numbed by the mint. And then there was Seung Hyun, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your back and sighing softly into your mouth. You finally pulled away, but not without giving him a few more quick smooches on the lips and forehead. “Impressed?”

“Hmmm...” Seung Hyun could only hum thoughtfully, blushing at the tips of his ears. He was adorable. You rolled off of him but didn’t take your eyes off your boyfriend, and kept on with your smug smile until Seung Hyun finally shoved a piece of toast in your mouth. “Shut up and eat your breakfast.” he said playfully.

“Yes sir.” you mumbled, raising your brows while munching away at the buttered toast. You looked over at Seung Hyun, who was just sitting there, still blushing from your kiss. Somehow you knew he was silently wishing he’d brushed his teeth while he sipped at his coffee and listened to the rain. 'All ears and dimples, tan skin and pretty, dark lashes.' you thought. Seung Hyun caught you looking at him and returned your gaze. his eyes were always so reverent and pensive when they looked at you, sometimes scarcely believing that you were there at all

“Seung Hyun, what's wrong?” you asked, even though you knew what he was probably thinking about you just then. You were slowly coming to understand how much Seung Hyun had suffered, and now you just wanted to make him happy and never let him feel alone again. But you also knew that that was almost impossible, because you couldn't be with him all the time.

Seung Hyun set his cup down and looked over at you, tears pricking his eyes. He didn’t want today to be another bad day, one where he cried non-stop and either clung to you desperately or shut you out completely. No, it couldn’t be another one of those days. But even as he told himself that, you moved to cradle him against you before he could say otherwise. You kissed his temple and called him sweetie, and Seung Hyun cried anyway.

But it got better as the morning broke into afternoon. The rain kept on constantly, a lovely, deep thrum of noise enveloping you, and slowly you managed to coax Seung Hyun out of his depression. First you made him reheat his coffee & check Instagram. Then you watched an old black & white film that you had to pause constantly so that you could explain every little thing that Seung Hyun didn’t understand. But it helped you both somehow, because it was difficult to be sad when he was so eager and filled with wonder.

And then half-way through, the movie was forgotten when your sarcastic remarks and gentle banter turned into Seung Hyun wanting to play and touch and kiss you instead. The two of you made out for a while, kissing each others lips and neck while the sounds of the rain continued all around.

Afterwards you just lay there on your back and Seung Hyun on his belly but propped up by an arm. That way, he could look down at you and thread a hand through your hair & caress your face with his fingertips. You lay there for a while just like that, until the rain had stopped and the sun set... then your bellies started growling irritably.

“What do you want to eat?” Seung Hyun asked you as he reached for his phone, definitely delivery tonight. You'd forgotten how long it’d been since you had eaten. The hours just seemed to fly by when you were together like this.

“I don’t know, whatever you want.” you told him. There was still a warm, fuzzy feeling in your belly despite your obvious hunger.

“Okay, umm, how’s pizza?”

“Sounds good.”

Seung Hyun ordered a large with your usual toppings, all the while being harassed by you grabbing his ass and giving it a few squeezes just to distract him.

“Bony butt.” you teased a bit too loudly, so that the pizza guy at the receiver end could hear you. Seung Hyun just kicked your leg lightly in admonishment and stammered out the address.

“It should be here in about 15 minutes.” he said, ending the call. “Which gives us just enough time to take a shower.”

“Ugh, can’t we take a bath instead?” you whined when he managed to drag you out of bed and into the bathroom.

“This is quicker.”

It was clear that he wasn’t budging today, even though he usually gave in. You pouted when he stripped you down & shoved you under the spray of steaming water and got in right behind you. But you eventually came around when Seung Hyun lathered you up and scrubbed your back, letting you kiss him even though you were wasting precious hot water.

Just as you were drying off, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” Seung Hyun yelled from the living room, running for the door in only a t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

This time you were the one who shoved the food in Seung Hyun's mouth. He didn’t even complain because he was starving. “I’ve got to hand it to them, this pizza is pretty good,” he said in the middle of his second slice, gooey cheese stretching from his mouth and grease dripping onto his chin. You just handed him a napkin with an amused smile.

“Oh? Is it better than my cookies?”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that. Maybe. By the way, you need to make me some of those.”

“I need to? I’m not your wife, Seung Hyun.”

“But you said you’d be happy to be my wife someday.” he remarked in half question, his voice as sweet as honey and yet as dry and sarcastic as ever. It made you feel nauseous all of a sudden.

You looked down for a moment, feeling sad as you recalled the memory of when you'd said it. But then you put on a wistful smile and whispered. “It’s true, I did say that.” your voice wavered a little despite your efforts to remain calm.

Seung Hyun noticed the darkness that had fallen over you, and when you went to peer out the window, he saw your face change as you started over-thinking things. He went over to you and hugged you from behind, pressing his fingertips into your sides and kissing the back of your neck until you turned around and looked at him. As soon as your eyes met, the worries dissipated, but his eyes still had that same sad look to them.

“__________-ah.” Seung Hyun said, his voice cracking. You curled your arms around him, running a hand up and down his back and swaying a bit as he sighed shakily into your shoulder. He pulled gently at the towel wrapped around your hair until it fell to the floor, and then started backing you up into the bedroom.

Seung Hyun laid you down on the bed and for a moment you were afraid he was going to leave, so you caught hold of his arm. “Come to bed.” you pleaded, your voice quiet. His face softened because he’d never intended to do otherwise, but he didn’t say so. He just did as you asked.

When Seung Hyun was finally lying down beside you, you rolled over to face him. You felt so tired but wanted him just the same. He still had a sad, placid expression on his face when he leaned over you, ghosting a hand over your chest. Seung Hyun's fingertips brushed ever so lightly across your skin, love still lingering in his touch.

It gave you goose bumps, especially when the cold air hit you afterwards, sending little shivers down your spine and to your belly, where it ended in a flush of heat. Seung Hyun saw it and smiled for the first time that night. No matter how many times the two of you touched, it always made his stomach flutter and his heart ache when he saw the want tangible in your reaction.

Wanting him.

“What do you want?” he breathed softly into your ear, like he was afraid someone might hear him. The two of you talked like that a lot, especially at night, in hushed tones so that even the walls couldn't catch your whispered secrets. And when you said that you just wanted to make him feel good in a soft whisper and slid a warm hand down his belly to his waistband, it made his body tremble.

Maybe it was the way you said it, or the way you touched him, or maybe it was just because it was you. His big brown eyes were the same ones that had twinkled so brightly right before he had fallen apart earlier. But right now now they were so alive again, and it was like they only sparkled for you. You had to fight back tears for a moment, because it wasn’t fair that his good moods could be so precious and yet so fleeting.

“It’s all right, kitten.” he murmured. “We have plenty of time for that.” then he kissed you lazily.

The rain had started back again and Seung Hyun felt glad. For some reason the rain made the world seem more intimate and closed off, like it was only for you and him.

And maybe it was… if only for now.

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