#but can be taken seriously because interpretation and shit

[jonnywaistcoat]

What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?

And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?

This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.

My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.

Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.

And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.

And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.

I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.

As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.

Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.

So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.

Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.

[freak-accident419]

You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

-

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Milk theory? 👁️👁️

ANYTHING FOR YOU TWO!!!!

ok this is gonna be short and mildly insane. i would like everyone to understand that this is pretty much Entirely unfounded & i'm just reading too much into a teeny little thing. however i've convinced myself that this theory is viable against all better judgement

take these mad ramblings with a Monumental grain of salt. im not to be taken seriously ever

so it all boils down to This

Little

Motherfucker.

the milk carton behind Barnaby's house.

it was added with the last large update, and it Immediately made me lose my mind. it's such a... strange thing to add to the map, which already has Teeny Secrets - along with other choice objects that make me narrow my eyes. but this isn't about them.

The very first thing I thought of when I saw the milk carton was the phrase "no use crying over spilled milk". which, of course, essentially means that there's no point in crying over things you can't change / things already done. There are a couple ways i'm interpreting it with this context

Something is going to happen that Barnaby feels personally responsible for. or is responsible for - either indirectly, or maybe he'll do something terrible. i think it's entirely possible that he might do that possible something for Wally. and again, take this with salt, but Clown has implied through trivia and fun hypotheticals that Barnaby would go to lengths for Wally. and yes, i know. taking evidence from "what would the neighbors do in Among Us" is absurd. IN MY DEFENSE! while the trivia isn't really to be taken seriously, there's always a thought process behind character roles and dynamics and behavior, and that is something that can be (carefully) looked into and applied. like in Among Us, apparently Barnaby would, and i quote, "Barnaby does all the Dirty work if Wally is an Impostor- Anything to help his little Buddy out...". anything to help his little buddy out, huh? like, it's been stated that Barnaby knows things about Wally that no one else does. and it's been mildly implied that he's fairly protective of Wally. and we all know that Wally is getting into some deep shit, and whether he means to or not he's likely gonna fuck everything up for everyone. it's not that big of a leap to speculate that Barnaby might do something drastic/horrible/regret-worthy in Wally's name / for his sake.

2. something terrible is going to happen to Barnaby / directly related to Barnaby, and he's going to be absolutely powerless to do anything about it. though i think that's kind of a given... yeah this section is pretty self explanatory

3. Barnaby is going to go missing. because what used to be on milk cartons? Missing Posters! yes yes i know this one is even more of a reach, since milk cartons didnt have missing posters on them till the 80s, but yk. it's a Thought.

my second thought was "oh ok so when the carton spills, it's curtains for Barnaby." this part of the theory is just me being paranoid that Barnaby is going to wind up kicking the bucket - though i suppose if that were the case, there would be a bucket, not milk. well, if a bucket ever appears, i'm going to start prematurely mourning. Still!

the point is - at some point, that milk is probably gonna spill. it may be just a detail as things get better Worse, or it could be indicative of something terrible happening to / because of Barnaby. the milk spills, Panic Time.

Milk Theory.

[lihyot-am-chofshi-beartzeinu]

This was sent to my main but I didn't want this putrid shit on my aesthetic blog. @trudgemank99, I'm going to try to explain this as best I can without insulting you.

Zionism is not a fascist ideology, and it is not responsible for an "ongoing genocide".

You don't even know what Zionism is. Seriously, you and others like you straight up don't even know what it means. You don't know its history, you don't know its cultural and religious significance, you don't know its politics, you don't know how it has saved so many Jewish peoples' lives over the 20th century. How dare you apply your own made-up interpretation of it to give you an excuse to go around harassing Jewish people on the internet?

You know how I see you? I see you as a Nazi. Because you have replaced "Jew" with "Zionist" in your vocabulary, so that you can get away with the same hatred of Jews that has festered within society for thousands of years.

You claimed in that other thread that you cared about the Palestinians. But you don't, because instead of, oh, I don't know, donating to charities or uplifting Palestinian voices, or even supporting joint Israeli-Palestinian peace movements like Standing Together, Women Wage Peace and A Land For All, you chose to desecrate the images of dead and grieving Palestinians who are victims of the tragedy of the conflict to "prove" it was a genocide (it's not; the ICJ ruled that Israel must take steps to prevent actions that could be considered genocidal. War and civilian death is horrific enough on its own; you gain nothing by misrepresenting what it is.)

You couldn't even name a single person in those pictures when I pressed you. I don't even know if those photos were of the conflict, because you didn't link to any reputable sources or date the images or name the photographer. For all I know they could have been pictures of the devastating war in Syria, which have taken on a second life with people attributing them to Gaza. Either way: how dare you use the dead as props. They were real people with real families and friends left behind to suffer - they are not your "gotcha" gore card to play on the internet.

Despite all of that, I don't hate you. I don't hate anyone. I don't want anyone to die. I want the conflict to end but I am realistic about why it occurred and why there is no ceasefire yet (hint: it's because Hamas keeps refusing ceasefires, because they want to send as many Gazan civilians to their deaths as they can). There is nothing I can say or do on my blog that will work towards an end to the conflict, and nothing I can do or say in my real life that will end the conflict - because I don't have a direct line to Netanyahu's office, and calling my local politicians here in Australia will accomplish fuck all. Because Australia doesn't influence Israel, just as Israel doesn't influence Australia.

So how does ranting incoherently at Jewish people on Tumblr save Palestinians? Go on, answer how screaming at me demanding I call it a genocide helps anyone.

I'm not defending Israel. I don't need to. What I do talk about is fighting Antisemitism and anti-Zionism - because there is no difference between them anymore. You and people like you might keep using the word "anti-Zionist" (something that I consider to be grossly inappropriate and culturally appropriative, actually) but we all know that, deep down, you're just Jew-haters.

If you can't admit to yourself that you are operating on a basis of incoherent hatred for Zionists (aka Jewish people who believe in the existence of a Jewish homeland in our ancestral land of Judea; something, by the way, that is fully compatible with the existence of a Palestinian state) then I'll do it for you: you are a Jew-hater.

Oh, wait! You did admit it:

Thank you for this mask-off moment. Truly.

[hannie-dul-set]

Embarrassing Heeseung x embarrassed reader or someone other than Hee whtv you want... I only think of him for this tropeedkmf...

[sweet venom]. there’s nothing in the world more potent than desire. it overwhelms, senses taken by the singularity of want— the want for something, anything— everything, gnawing at the veins that pulsate under thin flesh. everything is blurry save for the very object of that desire, a vivid clarity amidst countless gray abstractions.

“i’m hungry.”

and when that desire is combined with your shameless boyfriend’s bloodthirsty appetite—

“can i bite you?”

—things are bound to get a little bit dangerous.

heeseung must have forgotten that you’re in the middle of a party right now (and in the middle of a conversation with jay about extraterrestrial life). or maybe he simply doesn’t care, because jay’s face of absolute judgemental disgust across the kitchen counter doesn’t seem to affect him at all, either. “get a room, you freaks,” your friend says before evacuating the area with a can of OB, and he takes that as a green light to go all up in your space.

your own can feels cold to the touch in your palm. jay might have evacuated, but there’s still jake and jungwon in the kitchen entryway. sunoo just walked in too, to snag a bag of chips from the counter— who, in fact, just became an unwilling witness to lee heeseung getting elbowed in the rib after trying to nibble on your neck.

“oh my god.”

literally trying to nibble on your neck, because you just felt his fangs graze your skin a little just before you managed to push him off. “heeseung,” you hiss, scolding him. it’s a good thing most people’s thoughts usually lean towards usual hormonal behavior instead of vampirism when witnessing a scene such as this.

still. it doesn’t redact from sunoo’s sense of violation at the sight. “seriously? right in front of my chips?” you turn to sunoo, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. which is bad, because heeseung twitches from behind you and suddenly tugs you closer and wraps his arms around your waist. you feel his uncaring breath in the space between your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine, but more than that— you feel embarrassed as fuck right now.

someone ought to put this bloodsucker on a freaking leash.

“haha, sorry about that.” you elbow him again. again. and again, because the fucker just won’t budge. a mindless groan drawls out from his throat like he’s drunk on something, and you flinch. shit. good thing it was low enough for only you to hear. not good thing is how you can feel two significant sharp points of pain pressing into your skin. “heeseung, get a fucking grip.”

he interprets that as tightening his grip around your waist. god damn it. you mutter a few silent prayers to mother mary up above.

“i’ll pretend i didn’t see anything.”

“thank you, i appreciate that.”

your face still burns, but when sunoo turns around and turns a blind eye to heeseung’s shameless display of indecency, you immediately latch onto one of his arms and pry him off you, dragging him out the back door before he makes a mess out of you in sunghoon’s kitchen (not the hot kind. the bloody kind).

surprisingly, he doesn’t protest as you manhandling him out the door with a grunt, locking it shut before you submerge him and you in between the bushes and night and the outside panels of the house. does he want everyone to find out that he’s a life-sized mosquito? you wonder, but with that hazy look in his eyes, you doubt he’s thinking of anything besides wanting to leave a pretty mark on your neck— maybe a few if you’re feeling generous.

but you’re not, because you’re pretty sure they’re gossiping about you inside the house right now. “heeseung,” you sternly start. heeseung is batting his eyes at you expectantly. you want to punch him in the face. “we’re in public. what the fuck?”

he says nothing for a moment. silent, before he makes a very astute observation.

“not anymore.”

you blink at him.

well.

he’s…he’s right about that one, isn’t he?

“heeseung— ah—!”

desire is a dangerous thing. it makes people believe you ditched the party to mess around with your boyfriend, when in reality his feeding time is just overdue. but really—

“more,” heeseung grunts, a sharp taste of breathless iron on your tongue as he trails up from your neck to your mouth. “need more.”

—there’s not much difference when desire muddles the line in between.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Not so Subtle- Aomine x fem!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 8th, 2024

Description: Hiii omg could you write something for Aomine Daiki? Female reader, tall, large chest and midsize pretty please 🙏🏽 Ok, so it would take place after Seirin's win of the Winter Cup (so he's less of an asshole, but still yk). New girl student, settling in really good, she's pretty, funny, confident and witty. So he can only like, like her. They banter a lot and get friends really fast, fall in love, yadayada. Summed up: friends to lover, female/tall/witty/large chest/midsize reader OH! Bonus if you can make a scene with Kagami showing some interest in her.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. I had a ton of fun writing this! The reader's physical appearance doesn't come up much, but as I was writing i considered her to be around 5'10" so she was slightly taller than Momoi and slightly shorter than Aomine. Also, reader's conversation with Kagami can be interpreted as having visited or being from America.

Word count: 1 923

Back to directory

Starting at a new school halfway through the year is a terrible experience. The easiest way to make new friends is to bond over being in a new environment, having few to no friends, and the stress of exams. Showing up in January skips over all of that and leaves you to make new friends with your own social skills.

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I join you guys for lunch?”

“Hi! I’m L/n Y/n, can I be on your team today?”

“Oh, hey, you walk home this way too? I’m L/n Y/n.”

Y/n has no idea why her parents were so worried about starting her in a new school so late in the year. This was easy. Sure not everyone she talked with ended up being her friend, but she’d somehow ended up involved with the basketball team.

Scratch that, she knew exactly how she’d wound up as one of the basketball team’s managers.

“Y/n-chan!” Momoi squeals, through herself at the other woman’s back.

Momoi’s arms wrap around Y/n’s shoulders and the woman leans forward so that Momoi is laying on her back as they both laugh. When Y/n stands back up Momoi carefully drops back to the floor and links their arms together.

“Sa-chan, welcome back. Over your cold?”

“Mhm.”

The two continued over to the gym. Momoi was practically leaning against Y/n with her head on the taller woman’s shoulder as she complained about the last few days.

“Dai-chan didn’t even visit me! Let’s see how he likes it when I don’t visit him next time he’s sick. He probably wasn’t even practicing,” she grumbled.

“Hate to break it to you but he was.”

“Of course he was, seriously, I thought losing to Seirin-”

“No, I mean he was practicing.”

Momoi stopped, hand outstretched to the gym door, and turned to face Y/n. The annoyed pout she’d been sporting during her rant morphed into a wide smile.

“Really?! I’m so glad.”

Y/n laughed, reaching past Momoi and opening the door.

“I mean, I had to hunt him down yesterday because he skipped class and fell asleep, but ya he's been-”

The squeaking sound of shoes on the gym floor, followed by a dunk and yelling cut her off. The managers looked over to the hoop on the far end of the court and found Aomine being chewed out by Wakamatsu. Aomine’s attention, however, was drawn towards the women as the sound of the door closing echoed through the gym. He waved, turning Wakamatsu’s attention away from him and allowing him to slip away to the stage.

“Momoi, welcome back, are you feeling better?”

“Much, thank you!”

“Aomine!” Y/n yelled, stopping the forward half way across the gym. “Apologize.”

“I didn’t do shit!”

“That’s the problem!” Wakamatsu complained. “You absolutely could have stopped that dunk.”

“Dai-chan-”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” All eyes turned to Y/n who’d taken a seat on the stage. “I mean, I’m sure that red haired dude from Seirin would love to get some dunks past him, Aomine’s just being considerate.”

“Hah?”

The rest of the team turned away, covering their mouths, to stifle their laughter as Aomine’s face visibly twitched in annoyance. Momoi cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“Dai-chan, practice seriously. Seirin will be here soon.”

It was still weird for the team to see Aomine listen to people. Sure he dragged his feet plenty, in this case literally as he made his way back to Wakamatsu and the rest of the team, but since the Winter cup he was seemingly more open to suggestions. And when suggestions didn’t work, the new manager seemed adept at getting under his skin enough to make him want to do whatever it was he needed to.

Momoi joined Y/n on the stage and pulled her clipboard out of her bag.

“He likes you,” Momoi whispered as she flipped through papers to find her notes on Seirin.

“Not this again.”

“He listens to you, he doesn’t even listen to me!”

“He listens to you.”

“Only if he already wants to do whatever it is, remember last week when we were studying? He tried to take a nap and he only went back to studying after you asked.”

“Okay, he likes me… as a friend that he acknowledges won’t deal with his bullshit.”

Momoi rolls her eyes and hands Y/n the clipboard before resting her chin on her shoulder to see the paper.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Momoi muttered. “Alright, so…”

As the team got some last minute practice in, Momoi gave Y/n a last minute crash course on Seirin.

Just as they were getting to the bench players, Momoi’s phone rang.

“Tetsu!” She squealed as she accepted the call and slid off the stage. The team stopped practicing and Wakamatsu got everyone to start cleaning up. “How did you guys get lost?”

“Yo.” Y/n looked to her right to find Aomine leaning against the stage. He slid a piece of paper over to her feet, the number 74 was written and circled in red marker. “Thanks.”

“Seventy-four, nice.” She picked up the test and gave it a quick once over. “Impressive, you didn’t get a zero on any of the questions.”

“Ya, well I had an okay teacher.”

“Sa-chan got a ninety and I got a ninety-eight, so you own us ice-cream today.”

Rolling his eyes, Aomine snatched back his test and stuffed it in his bag. 

“Sorry we’re late!” A chorus of voices called out.

The two first years turned to find the Seirin basketball team, being led in by Momoi, taking their shoes off. Momoi skipped over to her friends and grabbed Y/n’s hands, pulling her from the stage.

“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet!”

“Alright, I’m coming. We’ll talk more after the game, Aomine!”

---

Tōō won, ending twenty points ahead of Seirin. Not unexpectedly as Kuroko’s misdirection was completely useless and Kiyoshi was gone. What was unexpected was the way Aomine seemed to be targeting Kagami, whether that be scoring through Seirin’s ace or shutting down as many of his scoring attempts as possible. During the break after the first half, Wakamtsu had chewed the ace out for showing off.

“We’re winning, aren’t we?”

“This isn’t about winning, it’s about getting better!”

Aomine had just shrugged.

“I think he’s jealous,” Momoi whispered after the players had left at the end of the break.

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“I think it’s because you were talking with Kagami.”

“You were the one who said I should meet him,” Y/n huffed.

“I had to test a theory.”

“What theory?”

Momoi glanced over at Y/n, but was cut off by the coach clearing his throat.

Seirin headed out almost immediately after the game, while the Tōō players cleaned the gym. This time, Y/n walked them back to the bus stop so that they wouldn't get lost again. When she got back, she found Aomine sitting on the steps with her bag.

“Where’s Sa-chan?”

“She left, said she was feeling kind of tired and wanted a rain check on her ice-cream.”

Aomine handed Y/n her bag, and the two made their way to the school entrance.

“No post-match debriefing today?”

“I have no idea, everyone was being weird as fuck.”

Y/n nodded slowly. It was a logical conclusion that Momoi had introduced her to Kagami to make Aomine jealous, and that she’d convinced the team to clear out before she got back so that they’d be alone. Skipping ahead, Y/n turned around to face Aomine and kept walking backwards. It didn’t seem like they were being watched.

“Speaking of weird as fuck-oof.”

“Wall.”

“Fuck you,” Y/n grumbled, making Aomine laugh as she stepped around the wall and on to the sidewalk. “What was up during today’s game?”

“What about it?”

“Sa-chan thinks you’re jealous.”

“Tch, jealous of what?”

Y/n shrugged. “Race you to the convenience store!”

“Hey!”

Obviously Y/n didn’t plan to win. Aomine pulled ahead of her almost immediately, once he recovered from the surprise, and maintained a decent lead to arrive at the store just before her without leaving her completely in the dust. He laughed as she finally arrived and immediately collapsed against the side of the building, trying to catch her breath.

“So, what’s my prize?” He grins, bracing an arm above her and leaning in so they were eye level.

She raised her index finger to his face.

“Would you like to cash your prize in now or save up?”

“Why did Satsuki say I was jealous?”

“That’s what you want your prize to be?”

Y/n straightened up and joined Aomine in leaning sideways against the wall.

“Answer the question or you’re buying ice-cream.”

“Ah.”

Pushing off the wall, Y/n grabbed the front of Aomine’s shirt and pulled him into the store after her. The two made a B-line for the frozen section at the back.

“She thought you’d be jealous I was talking with Kagami,” Y/n shrugged, picking up Aomine’s favorite popsicle and her own.

The sound of the freezer closing filled the store, and the buzzing of the lights seemed incredibly loud in the silence that followed. Y/n looked over at Aomine to find him staring at her. She held out his popsicle, waving in front of his face when he didn’t immediately take it.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Huh?”

“You and Kagami. Why was he blushing?”

“Oh my god you’re jealous,” Y/n mumbled.

Aomine grabbed his popsicle and pushed the back of her head as he walked towards the counter. A wide grin spread across Y/n’s face as she chased after him, setting her treat next to his.

“We were talking about America and he was blushing because I said it was cute that he and his brother have matching rings.”

“Don’t call him cute.”

“I didn’t call him cute, I called the idea of having matching rings cute.”

“I could get us matching rings,” Aomine muttered.

The sound of the convenience store bell nearly drowned his voice out as they left the store, but Y/n was right on his heels and barely caught it.

“Sa-chan also said you like me.”

Y/n ran right into Aomine’s back when he stopped suddenly. She watched the back of his head as she unwrapped her treat and started eating.

“I think it’s funny that everyone thinks I haven’t figured it out.” Aomine’s shoulders tense up. “I mean, I wouldn’t say you’re subtle when you look at my boobs.” 

Y/n gently kicks the back of Aomine’s heel, urging him to keep walking. When he didn’t move she sidestepped him and started walking in front of him.

When he didn’t keep walking with her, she turned around.

He didn’t look stunned, definitely flushed, but he looked impatient– like he’d been waiting for her to turn around. Y/n inclined her head.

“You could’ve said something.”

“I could’ve,” Y/n shrugged as she walked back up to Aomine. “But I wanted to see the great Aomine grovel, just a bit.”

He frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you need to ask me out.”

“Go out with me.”

Y/n sighed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Nope, now let’s go get burgers.”

Aomine opened his popsicle and wrapped his free arm around Y/n’s shoulder as the two headed down the street.

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ Sick Days ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.0k words ┊ Fluff-Hurt/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆��˚

now isn't this such an interesting plot? hehe,, something short to keep the creative juices flowing plus i think it's funny how unhinged my zandik interpretation is... have a great day/night!! OH AND IM BEGGING FOR PANTALONE, WANDERER, ALHAITHAM AND DOTTORE REQUESTS HEHEHE, also this got out of hand...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, basic dottore warnings, mentions of experiments, arguing, choking but not really?

It wasn't often that you'd get sick ever since you got together with Dottore. Your immune system has gotten better throughout the years, all because of the medicines and special treatments Dottore has put you through. Of course, these were only for you, and everything he has done only benefited you. He never dared to hurt you on purpose, only wishing to keep you healthy, safe, and sound.

So whenever you get sick, usually once every year, he'd be the one keeping an eye on you. Not a segment, no, screw everything else! He will take care of you and he will not give a damn about the Fatui until you've fully recovered. You always tease him for this, cooing at how sweet he is, which ultimately pisses him off and leads him to give you the most bitter concoctions he could ever make. You should be honored that Dottore himself is taking care of you (not like you had any say about it, he will get upset if you don't let him nurse you back to health).

With a cold, wet piece of cloth on your forehead, sniffling lightly as you struggled to breathe due to your clogged nose, you couldn't help but reminisce when your eyes wandered over Dottore's back. At the moment, he's taking notes of your vitals and overall health for the past few months, making sure nothing else was amiss. "Hehe, this reminds me of those times..." You rasped from your bed, snuggling more into your blankets as you closed your sore eyes. The sounds of Dottore's clothes shifting and the click of his heels indicated he was walking towards you, then the silent screech of the wooden chair told you that he had taken a seat next to your bed.

Even without opening your eyes, you could see the huge scowl on his face. How could he not? After all, he was an absolute mess when he got sick.

"Zandik, I swear to Celestia I will strap you down on one of your operation tables if you don't stay on your bed and let yourself recover in the normal way!"

"I can make my own damn medicine, why do I have to drink those ones you've bought at the market!? Have you no faith in my medicinal expertise!?"

"YES. I DON'T, BECAUSE YOU'VE POISONED YOURSELF 3 TIMES ALREADY. GET YOUR ASS BACK TO YOUR BED."

From early in the morning, to late at night, your neighbors always send noise complaints to the house you're currently renting while you studied at the Akademiya whenever Zandik was sick. Which was pretty often! With his ungodly sleep schedule, nonexistent breaks, and endless business, you wonder if his specialty as a doctor was only a bullshit thing he made up because he's always driving himself to death with his research. Oh, and he forgets to eat at least 2 meals a day.

And with him being sick, you're splurging extra mora to buy food from restaurants and taking them back home because you couldn't cook for shit. Zandik was the cook of your shared home; he even gives you death threats when you step into his 'territory' (the kitchen).

He's seriously the end of you. You don't understand why you even put up with it.

After physically wrestling Zandik back to his bed, hiding his damned scrolls and files about his research out of his reach and locked inside your drawers, you can finally put a wet piece of cloth back onto his forehead, watching him shiver at its coldness. Heaving a small sigh of relief, you unbuttoned his messy dress shirt and began wiping his body with another wet cloth with Zandik's hands gripping your wrist but still allowing you to rub all over his warm chest. It seemed to be a tad effective, his tense muscles slowly relaxing under your touch and his furrowed brows finally straightened, the back of his head falling onto the pillow.

"Fuck's sake Zandik," You muttered under your breath when his breathing grew heavy, struggling to breathe through his clogged nose. Taking out an ointment that you've been working on for the past few days, you sneaked your hand under his sweaty head to lift it up lightly, letting him sniff the ointment and biting your bottom lip, hoping that it was effective. And it proved to be a success when his breathing slowly smoothened, cheering internally. "Good, it worked." You shook your head in disbelief as you began rubbing the ointment on his shoulders, all the way down to his chest, trying to alleviate the ache in his body by massaging him. "Can't believe the ointment worked considering I only picked up medicine ever since you came into my life."

As expected, Zandik groaned at the returning warmth on his chest, shooting you an accusing glare but you only pressed your hands a little harder against his shoulders, rubbing with careful motions. Before Zandik could open his mouth, you quickly explained the ointment you made. "It's made out of a bunch of cough suppressants, topical analgesics, and some essential oils. Not a cure for any illness, but it helps relieve muscle pain and its vapors can help clear your breathing." You say each word slowly, letting his hazy mind catch up with your explanation. "Feeling any better?"

Zandik let out a grunt, baring his teeth at you, before silently admitting that he was feeling much better than before. "... My muscles don't ache anymore and my nose isn't clogged." Then he scowled again, eyeing the small container of ointment in your hands. "I'm not fond of its strong smell and warmth."

"Well, that's kinda the main thing about it."

Zandik rolled his eyes, shuffling on the bed and trying to sit up, only to be flicked on the forehead by you and laid back down. "Then I ought to make a better ointment than yours." He swatted your hand away, and you could he just became more aggravated. "What's the point if it's not a cure? Just because it made me feel better doesn't mean you're better than me."

His words definitely shocked you. And enraged you. So much so that you've accidentally dropped the basin full of water, where you've been dripping the piece of cloth, down to the floor. Zandik's eyes snapped to yours and he saw, for the first time, the way your eyes so viciously glared at him, mouth curled into a deep frown. "Well, excuse me for making an ointment only for you because I was concerned about your well-being because when you're sick, it's 10 times worse since you don't give 2 shits about yourself." You started, and Zandik wanted to argue but you kept going, shutting him up when he felt your hand wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides of his neck, but not entirely choking him. This caught him off guard, eyes widening at your growing rage. "I know you're bound to make some discovery that can make you immune to most illnesses, that's how good I think you are. But by the time you'll reach it, you'd be dead because you refuse to acknowledge that your body is deteriorating from your lack of care! And I have to care in your stead!"

Zandik struggled to speak with how tight your hand was wrapped around his neck, but he managed to muster out a whisper. "Then why do you care?" If he's such a burden to you, why even go as far as wasting your time on him? Your concerns and worries when he clearly inconveniences you. He knew that you've been missing classes and your due dates for your projects just to help him get through his fever and make that ointment, but he doesn't get why.

That seemed to anger you even more, but now it paired with glistening tears in your eyes as you grabbed his unbuttoned collar, hands shaking. Zandik couldn't tell if it was from your fury or something else. "Because I love you, damn it! I care about you because ever since you barged into my life, I started falling for your stupid antics and got invested in your research!" Zandik seemed stunned at your confession, his hands slowly making their way onto your wrists. "I started caring when you suddenly promised that you'd make me immortal alongside you! When you'd cook for me every damn day because I'd go broke or starve to death if you don't... A blind person could say you care about me as much as I care about you, so I made this stupid fucking alternative medicine to make this easier for you!"

You let go of his collar, letting him fall onto his back which made his head spin. His head pounded painfully from the massive headache he got from your yelling and manhandling, but could barely care, only keeping his eyes on you, conflicted. Throwing the small container of ointment to the ground, you picked up the fallen basin and walked out of his room. With one last glance back at him, you cursed under your breath before saying; "Don't get up and sleep, Zandik." Then you shut the door with a slam, leaving him all alone in his room.

For the next few days, you noticed that he'd grown more compliant to your demands, only reduced to grumbling against your wishes but still obeying nonetheless. You could only assume that the words you've said to him that night affected him, seeing that he's even willingly putting with your ointment's strong smell. In no time, he's back to his normal self, no longer sick and back to conducting his research, but trying his best to be a little healthier. At least now he's eating more than he usually did, and the bags under his eyes have lessened.

You were extremely relieved, and after a few days of his recovery, you finally decided to stir problems back into the house with a big smirk on your lips. "Glad you're taking yourself now, Zandik." You commented one morning, catching a glimpse of him drinking coffee on the kitchen counter whilst you washed the dishes. All you got from him was a grunt as a reply, but that was enough for you. "Though, I didn't think you'd actually believe me when I told you I loved you." You heard writing pause while you kept your head turned back from him, already imagining the expression on his face. "I guess you can say my acting was pretty convincing, wasn't it?" But it truly wasn't acting, you did love Zandik, and in the heat of the moment, your emotions caught up to you last night. It wasn't intentional, your confession, but it was your true feelings. You just didn't want him to take it seriously at the time being since you were still unsure if it was mutual. You have no idea going through his head most of the time.

Not uttering a single word, he threw his cup of coffee at the wall, right next to your head. Without sparing a single moment, you ran toward the doorway, catching sight of his seething form with a laugh escaping your lips. You'll say it was a joke for now, something you had said to convince him to let you care for him. It wasn't that bad either, since he'd begun sleeping and eating more out of spite, just so you wouldn't be the one taking care of him if he ever gets sick again.

"I'm sorry for lying to you, dear." With a chuckle, you leaned into his touch as he caresses your warm cheek. In his hand was a small container of the ointment you created just for him all those years ago. Contrary to his displeasure, you quite liked the strong smell of the ointment. "But I really did love you at that point in our relationship."

Dottore pushed back the hairs that stuck on your forehead due to your sweat. He had a small frown tugging on his lips, "Was that necessary?" He sighed and shook his head at the memory, slipping off his gloves so he could put the ointment on your skin. You merely shrugged, but your smile remained. "Nope, but it did make you think about how you felt toward me, right?"

"I suppose so." He says, planting a kiss on your cheek.

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[firstofficerkittycat]

does anyone else feel like Spock experienced sa like on screen in tos multiple times not that those things can't be interpreted in other ways but it just hits for me yk I wanna write it. Like he's always getting drugged into "falling in love" and having his emotions forced out of him by ppl who go oh ur repressed and traumatized so I need to do exposure therapy on u by conveniently doing whatever I want with ur body. Like humans get away with abusing him because actions that are inherently sexual to Vulcan anatomy are nonsexual to them and he doesn't tell anyone cus he doesn't think he'll be taken seriously. Or that when ppl make advances on him he can never figure out if they know what they're doing or not and if they do they'll just lie about it anyway + he's scared to speak up for himself so he just sits with it. Maybe that's what makes him start telling everyone in starfleet he's physically incapable of feeling to try and put another wall up + since most of em don't know shit about Vulcans they just believe him, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't cus there's always people who take it as a challenge. And when he meets Jim and they get close he doesn't think he can give him anything real cus he believed everything his abusers said about him not being enough unless he acts exactly like them and Jim's like no no I don't want u to do anything that hurts to prove u care I already know u care. I see you. And Spock's like holy shit is this what relationships are supposed to be like

[alicentsgf]

ok so fans who hate alicent LOVE to say shit like "book alicent was beefing with a child lol" totally unironically. and it just confuses me. like Bro... all f&b tells us is she Stopped Being Nice to rhaenyra after aegon was born (when viserys showed no sign of naming him heir). because, reportedly, she was originally kind to rhaenyra. apparently kind enough for at least one or two people to note a sudden change in demeanor.

and like im sorry. is it that crazy that when alicent began to understand rhaenyra and her own son were going to be pitted against each other in the future she chose aegon and distanced herself from rhaenyra? she wasnt "beefing with a child" like i feel thats so clearly just a little joke someone made thats been taken at face value and regurgitated. because its not true. or at least f&b gives us no indication of it - we're never told about her acting maliciously toward a young rhaenyra. in fact i dont think we're given much indication they really interacted at all. and anyway, wouldnt it have been worse for her to continue to keep rhaenyra close ? so she could try and manipulate her?? people make book alicent into this great seductress and manipulator and theres basically no textual evidence to support it. if anything i feel like alicent distancing herself shows she very possibly DID genuinely care about rhaenyra once, perhaps enough to worry her attachment might undermine her cause to prioritise aegon in some way. and this is only further supported by rhaenyra's decision to spare alicents life later when the rest of the greens became dragon snacks.

then theres the fact book alicent was the one who asked viserys to betroth aegon to rhaenyra. why would she do that? a woman from a house with such close ties to the faith no less. she asked when aegon was 6 and she must have known by that point viserys was likely never going to name aegon heir - imo she was exhausting options to try and protect her children. no matter what choices aegon made he had every chance of becoming a symbol others would use, forcing rhaenyra to make an example of him to maintain control. marrying them to each other would do a lot to avoid that eventuality. it was both a smart political match and what Targaryen tradition demanded. viserys was convinced alicent was only acting out of ambition which is why he rebuffed her, but we're repeatedly shown viserys is kind of an idiot. especially politically.

theres this Obsession with the idea alicents characterisation was changed so dramatically for the show. 'i wish they'd made her like book alicent' they did...? they made her a victim who is scared and anxious and bitter. theres nothing to suggest that wasnt who book alicent was. everything we know of her is filtered through layers of bias - her story told by men who dont give a shit what she felt or desired. and what? you dont like it because you wanted her to be some one dimensional villian? because doubling down of f&bs oft misogynistic, cardboard cutout representation of her would have been So great. like please, i get that so much of f&b can be interpreted a whole bunch of ways but 'alicent the evil step mother' is the most basic, boring interpretation. it shows no depth of thought at all. theres at least a few clues in there as to who she Actually might have been, if you bother to look.

its just insane to me honestly. you read that book and thought she was pure evil? this woman who doted on her daughter and grandchildren so completely that her grandson's murderers knew to find them in her rooms. this woman who spent her last moments embracing death, pining for her dead children and speaking fondly of the old man she used read to as a girl. its really not that hard to percieve book alicent as a trapped and embittered woman desperately scared for the lives of her children. seriously. where is the critical thought? the empathy?? im so tired.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/729708592592306176/how-about-a-different-discourse-death-of-the

What this ask is missing, a bit, is that Death of the Author *does* mean that the author’s take on things is no more or less valid than anyone else’s. It’s about decentering authorial intent in analyses of media. Barthes is pretty clear and quite pointed about it in the original essay.

What bothers me about misuses of it and what I think this anon means to say is when people start decentering the actual *text*. The idea behind Death of the Author is also that the text stands alone. You don’t need to look at any extra shit to understand it. As you said, it was a response to a mode of analysis that obsessed over plumbing through author biographies.

The issue with what people do in fandom is they ignore the text. “I don’t like this element of canon, so it doesn’t exist.” (Which is different from arguing that it’s there but it sucks because of XYZ reasons, so I’m going to consciously ignore it in my fan works. This is when people just act like it isn’t there in the text in the first place.) “You have to take my bizarro world out-of-nowhere headcanon that is based on nothing except that I want it to be true, that I love this character and I wish they were XYZ therefore they are” and take it just as seriously as headcanons that actually engage with what’s in the show/video game/book/movie/whatever and use that as their basis (like building off something that is subtextual in the original work).

Granted we all do this to some degree, we all come to a text with our own biases and you can’t *always* easily separate those out, and that can affect, for instance, your interpretation of what the subtext is, but I think the irritating fandom behavior is when this kind of ignoring-the-text-to-substitute-your-own-reality is this very deliberate sort of laziness. The annoying thing in my current fandom is people who are fans of this one ship that they insist is the most progressive and other people just don’t see the scintillating “subtext” of because we are bigots or whatever, between two characters who don’t interact that much for two MCs and when they do it’s not at all shippy (but these characters both have very shippy subtext with different characters), but where these people think the ship *should* exist because of their identities. And their “evidence” for the ship is always gifsets taken way out of context and not including the dialogue that makes the non-shippy context for that scene very clear (including that it might actually be shippy for conflicting pairings). It’s like this bizarre version of “close reading” that strips out the largely context *deliberately* in order to make a particular conclusion seem more compelling than it actually is.

Anyway, all that ignoring-the-text stuff is STILL bad analysis per DOTA. Since the point of DOTA is to go based on the text, if you’re obscuring the text you’re kind of just installing yourself as a new author.

This is why DOTA doesn’t mean “anything goes.” It just means “authorial intent is just one interpretation that doesn’t have to matter.” It doesn’t mean other stuff we use in analysis doesn’t matter, and if anything the point is to make it even more text-centric than the older author-centric analyses were. People can still disagree about what the text says, of course, but they should both be going back to it in how they construct those arguments, and not, like those shippers, deliberately ignoring chunks of the text that weaken their arguments.

--

I don't think all of them are consciously throwing out actual canon, but they are often throwing out all context that would help evaluate subtext.

Like... if you're analyzing a Marvel movie, you might ignore what the director said in an interview, but you probably shouldn't entirely ignore the fact that it is a Marvel movie and apply assumptions that make sense for some arthouse film.

And, yes, if you're arguing for shippy subtext, even unintentional on the part of creators, "I like this ship because..." needs very little, but "This ship has more support than this other ship" requires going back to the actual text and looking at it in its totality.

There's a lot of faux-intellectualism around garbage like TJLC where people try to make themselves feel smart by using the language of close reading while having the media literacy of a bucket of rotting fish.

[neolxzr]

you do see my point though, I was saying that yes a piece of media can have a character imply they are queer, but it’s frustrating when they won’t explicitly confirm such, because of (in the case of… checks app store purchase statistics…. A multi million dollar game franchise!) the need to market to as many people as possible. Shumika will never be “canon” because some people just don’t like shumika and won’t spend money on the game if shu and mika are in a relationship, whether or not that’s because they like the ship or the characters or are genuinely homophobic or whatnot. If the writing team cared about telling a love story, they would tell a love story, not go “well maybe they’re in love, it’s up to viewer interpretation!” like this works, sometimes it adds to the meaning of the work, but enstars really doesn’t have an excuse for their constant “this character might have feelings for this other character, but we’ll never have them say it out loud!” except the fact it makes them a lot of money, since they can market to people who like a character being the way they want that character to be, whether that’s with that character being in love with another in game character or self-shipping or whatever else. Outside of shipping, this is why some characters like Shinobu haven’t changed despite wanting to change (he continuously talks about how he wants to be more mature and taken seriously but his cards continue to make him look small and cute because his fans like that about him and god forbid we change anything!) I just think enstars should not be your first thought when someone asks you about a good piece of queer media because they’re doing just about the same job as large cast games with characters of the same gender (minus Arashi) who continue to have characters go “we’ll do all these things to imply we could be in love, but we’ll never have our characters actually date! teehee!”

i can understand being frustrated about your ships not being "confirmed", but the obsession with what is "canon" and "not canon" is just straight up not a very interesting discussion to have. what happyele's or the writers' agenda is is not of particular importance to me. one of the first things they teach you in classes about media analysis is that once a work is out there, the intentions of the creator no longer matter. the only thing that matters in your analysis is your own thoughts and the way you interpret a text.

if we were having a conversation about how much the creator of something sucks, then sure, talk about that all you want, but i am specifically referring to discussions about the piece of media and these characters and their relationships and their growth and the themes of the work etc. those things are removed from whether or not the company writes the way they do because of profit motives or whatever. companies make money, that's just what to expect. if you want art that is free of profit motives, read something by an independent creator.

even so, it feels strange to place enstars into the bucket of "stuff that should be gayer but the bad company that makes it wont let it be" because the characters ARE so very openly queer. there are so many instances in it where characters pour their heart out to each other or offer themselves to another character in beautiful and poetic ways, and i think it's wrong to claim it doesn't count because they didn't confirm their relationship status at the end of it. if you ask me, there is absolutely no way to interpret enstars in a way completely free of queerness. there is so much explicitly queer text that ignoring it is just plain incorrect. but, if homophobic people like this game and choose to look the other way at all of the gay shit, again, that is not my problem.

why is canonization the only thing that matters? is a shitty BL with awful writing better and more worthwhile than enstars as a queer narrative because the characters had explicit gay sex on screen? are poorly written gay characters in the background of other media with nothing going on more worth talking about than shumika or wataei or rinniki or whoever else just because they say the words 'i'm gay' out loud?

queerness is so much more than all of that. it is so much more than labels and it is so much more than relationships that are easy to understand. it is so much more than the extremely narrow view of it that the internet has concocted about it over the last few years, where you’re only allowed to talk about queerness if you yourself are openly queer and out of the closet, and even then you’re only allowed to make art that makes for “good representation.” that is just so incredibly limiting. i would rather tons of companies who are trying to profit off fujoshis make vaguely gay media with unconfirmed romances and relationships that aren't easily defined by labels than have less queer art in the world.

more queer art means more queer people who will find something to really connect to. more queer art means telling more queer stories. why should who is allowed to write lgbtq media be limited? why should the kind of media people are allowed to make be limited?

its fine to criticize happyelements if youre unsatisfied with the way they do things, im not always 100% in love with everything they do either. i wouldn't even consider enstars to be the worlds' best example of a queer piece of media. but no one is forcing you to like or engage with it or give the company money if you're unhappy with how they write and market their game. they don't owe anyone explicit confirmation that any of their characters are dating, and it doesn't even matter if they do provide that confirmation or not.

regardless of who made it or for what reason, queer stories are worth talking about, "canon" or not.

[can-i-see-your-passport-please]

I love those HLVRAI moments where it could be silly or serious. Like, there are moments that are very silly in HLVRAI (most of it), and there are moments that are played completely seriously (eg: the clone fight). But like, then you get moments where it COULD be serious, or it could be a funny joke, and it depends on the interpretation you're working with.

Something like the line "Tommy likes mean people" is a great example- is it a throwaway line, or does it say something about Tommy or Benrey or their friendship? You can interpret it as Tommy finding himself drawn to people who are kinda dicks, and you can get interesting characterization out of that. A lot of people, me included, interpret it as at least partially a manifestation of Benrey not really liking himself that much- after all, why would Tommy be friends with him unless Tommy liked mean/bad people?

Or you can just interpret it as a funny throwaway joke that doesn't mean anything. Because it COULD be a meaningless line, and if you think it is, then that's a good reading as well!

Another moment like that is when Dr Coomer says "Never fear, Gordon! I lost the ability to feel pain 3 years ago!" You can take it as just a joke if you want- it is VERY easy to do so. But at the same time, you could take it with Dr Coomer's speech at the end of the clone fight, when he says that Gordon going to sleep and ending the game puts him through excruciating pain. You can take it with Dr Coomer's being a cyborg, and try and figure out something from that. I don't know what you'd conclude exactly from the cyborg thought, but what you could conclude in conjunction with the clone fight is the conclusion that the game shutting down so painful that a character who has been unable to feel pain for three years is in complete, unbearable agony when it happens.

Or it can just be a joke! Because the delivery and context is funny! And that's the thing! HLVRAI is the series most able to be a pick-and-choose-canon series ever, because it is a stupid improv comedy where nothing means anything, and so anything can mean everything. And so, different people put emphasis on different things. Some people take moments as jokes, some people take them deadly seriously.

And the creativity you can get from taking those moments seriously is amazing. Like, I've taken a lot of moments that were 100% jokes and connected them into a kinda horrifying narrative of what exactly's going on in Benrey's brain through the series. And like, you can say I'm stretching canon with it, because I am. But you can't say my reading of those moments can be completely and totally false. And I've made people cry with this shit!

You can watch HLVRAI and see it as a complete joke series with the only serious character moments being with Dr Coomer and maybe Gordon. Or you can look at specific moments, and say, okay, what if I played that straight? What if I didn't take this joke as a joke? What does it say about the characters, and what drama can I get out of it?

And who can stop you except a loser who wants to smother fun? There's no one interpretation of HLVRAI, and anyone who tries to say there is one is, to be completely and utterly honest, a complete fucking loser.

[arthurtaylorlester]

Hello this is "Arthur has shitty eyesight" anon I am going progressively more insane. So you know how John doesn't know shit. Like he is aware of the world existing but in a very "I read it in a book once" way and if anything is out of Arthur's immediate knowledge (like Arthur didn't have a person who uses a wheelchair regularly in his life and John as a consequence had no idea what that thing is called).

So. John doesn't really understand social norms, including those around gender and sexuality. And it's not really relevant when he is not perceived by society in any way but if he ever gets a body. Oh boy.

At one point he tries something fun like a whole bunch of shiny rings and necklaces (John has crow syndrome for shiny things supremacy), gets called a slur, and comes to Arthur for clarification on what exactly is a queer.

Meanwhile Arthur is enjoying the fact that he can finally have a sort of friendship where he and a person live together and care for each other deeply and say they love each other but the other person doesn't interpret it as romantic if they're a lady or "weird" if it's a dude but the fear of everything crushing down looms forever in the corner of his mind.

So I imagine John literally sitting on Arthur's lap absentmindedly playing with his hair or straightening his tie because that's just how they operate after being in one body for so long and John asks "Arthur. Arthur what's a homosexual. Is it a person with many pretty rings." And Arthur immediately goes into panic territory because either he lies and John might get seriously hatecrimed when he decides to do something touchy-feely in public or tell John how society operates and probably make things weird forever and ever. I don't know where this is going but I love putting the little guys in situations.

ANON YOUR MIND YOU PLUCKED THIS CONCEPT FROM MY MIND

i love the idea about arthur having a crisis over this meanwhile john's like ''but arthur why does this matter before i had so many bitches (cultists) and drip (he wore a long cape) arthur we really should've taken up kayne on the (platonic) honeymoon in the other realms''

[sasukeless]

Seeing you reblog posts about things the anime added that wasn't in the manga, I wonder if the experience of consuming only the anime changes a lot of how people can interpret Naruto (both the character and the series)? I only read the entire manga at like 14 going 15, and bits and pieces since then, and always felt like I had a little different experience from my friends at the time that only watched the anime? Like just curious about what important messages/context were portrayed different on TV

the truth is that there’s just so much that is missed and changed in the anime but most people either don’t realize it or prefer it because.

the thing about adaptations is that the people that do them sometimes view the characters different than the actual author and their bias CAN affect how faithful the adaptation ends up. ig ppl assume this is not the case with anime because most of the time they just animate the scenes in the manga as they are but that’s not true, it might not be as extreme as comics adaptations in hollywood but there’s still changes. with naruto especially is jarring, i mean almost 50% of naruto anime is just filler.

i know ppl don’t know what filler is lately because they think some beach episode is filler or whatever when the point of filler is that it’s just not in the source material and you might think that’s not a big deal but unfortunately in naruto case it is. like i said ppl that make these fillers have different readings of the characters so the portrayal of said characters in those added episodes ends up being contradictory to how they are in actual canon and thus people that take fillers as canon end up having a completely wrong opinion in the characters. it doesn’t help at all that the anime doesn’t just keep filler to filler episodes they add also scenes in actual canon episodes so again ppl obviously get confused and it’s frustrating.

the amount of times i see people making anti sasuke meta based in some shit studio pierrot added is hysterical because that’s not his actual character why are you analyzing something he never did in the canon story?

aside for characters, there’s also dynamics that are butchered by the anime either by downplaying them or just making it seem more. and if we talk of specific message/context i will always point at vote2 episodes which is literally meant to only follow manga and yet still In the culmination of the story, the anime managed to add filler scenes that dilute it

yesterday i joked about this but truthfully the endings and openings with all the symbolism and metaphors did sometimes a better job at adapting naruto than the actual episodes.

i know ppl love the anime, i mean the nostalgia and everything it’s there. i would be lying if i said there’s not some bits i like. but i will always fight the manga is the only one that should be taken into account if you’re seriously discussing naruto’s story and characters

[jacks347]

I'm bored to the point of mild irritation so imma tell y'all why you're thinking about Star Captains wrong.

"Jacks, what do you mean? How can we be thinking about Star Captains wrong? They're not that complicated!"

I'm gonna take a page out of Escaped's book and beat you for an hour with a bag of frozen lemons. After that I strap you to a chair like Clockwork Orange.

Class is in session bitches, bastards, and nuisances of all kinds.

There's a rule when it comes to Star Captains we all know about.

"Star Captains don't feel emotions."

Now, most people take that to mean "Star Captains don't have emotions" like they become a Star Captain and lose their ability to feel because they're no longer human.

But I don't like that interpretation cause it's inherently flawed and wrong.

Why??

I'm so glad you asked.

Because that's not what the rule says. Not to mention, it doesn't line up with how we see Star Captains act.

"Oh Guardian is a weird case, you can't use just her!" I will grab the lemons again, istg. Forks does this shit too, let me finish. ("What about Grips and Hazel?" ...shut up. This is my show, I'll talk about who I want to)

Star Captains have emotions, they just choose whether or not they feel them. Like they have their own personal on/off switch in their head they can access to decide which of their emotions they wanna feel and when. It's just the most of the time they turn off all of them.

When Guardian was in that repression chamber, her access to that switch was taken away, and she had to feel things whether she liked it or not, and the effect hit her so hard it caused hallucinations. (Which is a whole other post in and of itself)

Both Guardian and Forks show evidence of feeling emotions. Curiosity, anger, pride, disgust. If Star Captains really didn't have any emotions at all, then explain Guardian following Zed to see Manas City just to see how it'd changed or explain Forks being disgusted by Arkov for tricking people to get what she wanted like her mother.

Also, let's not forget, Forks raised two goddamn children. I don't know about you, but raising children is quite an emotional journey.

Just because a Star Captain chooses not to feel something doesn't mean that they don't. They feel quite a lot. But thanks to their powers, they can turn off their ability to feel in order to do their job.

Gods are described as a lot of things. But "unfeeling" is a shockingly uncommon one.

Angry? Yes. Bitter? Yep. Spiteful? Uh-huh. Curious? You bet. Caring? Occasionally. Protective? Usually.

Would the people of the PanOmniverse really trust a god to have their best interests at heart, protect them, and save them if they truly believed they were incapable of understanding the emotions of the people they were overlooking?

Anyway, next time a friend tries to tell you Star Captains don't have emotions, point them to this post and I'll chew them out for you.

(P.S. Seriously, @escapedaudios, my guy, what is with the lemons??)

[nicki0kaye]

random kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #3

I think getting him to socialize will be like pulling teeth. It obvs depends on how you interpret his few lines in season 4, but I don't think he was doing the bond villain voice as a joke when he greeted the Spectres. I think he's just like that.

And I think he knows it's off-putting, and is using that as a shield of sorts so he doesn't have to go too far into the unknown after entirely uprooting his life and leaving the Empire.

the explanation I always come back to is 'be what they expect', like that's his strategy within the Rebellion. This is important bc my main hc for Kallus is that everything about his presentation is fake. His accent and cadence was taken from the big bad in a show he liked as a tween. His only formal education is from the Academy, so he lacks a lot of standard knowledge others take for granted. He was an entirely different person before entering the Empire (though it was the Republic at his time of enlistment), and even though he's been in character for the last 20-ish years, there's nothing stopping him from constructing a new one. Nothing but himself and his goals.

Now there's also the comfort aspect. Creating a whole new life is terrifying, and I do think there's a measure of comfort he takes for having 'valid reasons' for not reinventing himself. He's also been shaped by the Empire (and his life before, as a gang lord's son) to expect the worst of people--to make formalities weapons, to always expect the knife in the back, to take any opportunity to tear someone else down so he can rise higher. That's created a paranoid, hyper-alert state re: other people, and the people of the Rebellion have every reason to distrust and ostracize him bc of his past as an ISB officer.

All of this is to say, 'be what they expect' is both a strategy to lessen the friction between him and the Rebellion, and also as a means of protecting his own sense of stability. Changing shit up now could draw unwanted attention, give Rebels cause to distrust his goals and intentions, call into question who he is what he's capable of, and ultimately would be taxing and anxiety inducing for him.

I think he's a proud guy who doesn't do shit in half measures, and that means taking 'failure' very seriously, including social failure. If he's a stuck up asshole ex-Imp, he's not gonna win anyone over, which means he won't feel bad or like he's fucked up if no one likes him much. He's setting himself up for failure as a means of controlling the situation, bc he is very out of his depths and hyper aware of what a mistake could cost.

that isn't to say I don't love hcs where he loosens the sphincter and genuinely tries to socialize and make nice, I fucking adore those, I just think getting him there would be a process. He's a recovering perfectionist, he's gonna need the help.

I also just...look, one of my criteria for imprinting on a character is how likely they are to sit there with a neutral expression while mentally furiously playing 4D chess against themselves and their perceived opponent re: literally any social interaction. I love the mfs who look like they have their shit together but in reality are one misstep away from a meltdown over 'failing' at being a human. It's the autistic people pleaser in me.

and I love the idea of that person being worth saving. That they can bond and find love and friendship and learn to be better at this shit. I like exploring that process, warts and all. I like forcing them to admit they need other people, they want other people, even if it scares them shitless.

There's a song from the musical Company called 'Being Alive' that reminds me a lot of what I feel is the core driving force for Kallus' change. It starts with the character more or less listing all the reasons love sucks, actually, but there's a turn midway where he starts begging for all these little inconveniences because; "Alone is alone, not alive"

And I think Kallus is deeply embarrassed that he feels that way. That for all the perfectly understandable reasons to hate the Empire, he ultimately changed because he was tired of being alone and wanted to be alive. So there's also this layer of penance and self-denial that is informed by his guilt for all he's done, but is ultimately him punishing himself for wanting something so selfish and being so 'weak'.

He hasn't earned friends yet. He doesn't deserve to be loved. He has so much evil to make up for, so much work to do, it'd just be a distraction, and worse a selfish distraction.

And there's reason to consider him an inherently selfish character, I think it should probably be applied to him more, it's a much more realistic take on him, but I personally prefer the obnoxious martyrism of it all. That he's able to flip his morals because they were, ultimately, a put-on anyway. That he is aware of right and wrong and his ability to empathize hasn't withered into nothing after years of violence and cruelty. And even if he can't feel empathy as strongly as he once could, he is at least hyper aware he now runs with a crowd that draws strength from empathy and needs to readjust himself accordingly.

So I guess even if he is still talking and acting like a bond villain, he is tailoring his words and actions to suit the Rebel's sensibilities. And I think he's hyper aware that's a choice--that other people (like Zeb) are just naturally care about the right things and treating others the right way. That he's already deceiving them in a way, which inherently makes him a two-faced liar, and it would just make things messy if he added to that deceit by acting personable and kind and understanding. It's so important the Rebels trust him, so important that they not question his intel and motivations, so it just makes sense that he not push too far and make it obvious he can be anyone. That he could mirror them perfectly, say exactly what they want to hear just how they want to hear it.

No one knows he's a fake person, so he has to keep the mask on. He has to stay in his little ex-imp box and put the real reasons he defected on the back-burner so that this under-funded, over-worked, run-on-shoe-laces-and-hope band of misfits don't die on his watch.

And i really like it when he's proven wrong, and forced to abandon the box and face the horrible ordeal of being known better than he knows himself.