#exceptionally performed character

[giantroar98]

An appreciation to KTY existence ♥

what you are is beautiful

[luvether]

STAR-SHAPED BRUISES ✦ he who once felt the cold touch of death before, so why did it matter if he risked it again? Only that it did matter, to you, and your yearnings for him felt so warm it almost made him want to be selfish.

anaxagoras x gn!reader. angst? & fluff! content. hurt with comfort (?) tensions and arguments. yearning and hidden pining. cerces playing matchmaker. might be ooc + anaxa character study. written before 3.2 and spoilers for the 3.1 story! [2.4k wc]

tagging @rainswept @eterjie @kazucee !!

“You seem troubled today, more than usual.”

The thin-layer of soundlessness is quickly replaced by the tamed billow of Anaxa’s tone, one that seems like he’s questioning for the sake of curiosity and not because of empathy. Looking up at how busy he looked, his eyes maintained upon his alembic that bubbled a violent cyan-gold hue, any second and you’re sure it’s gonna fulminate from the vessel.

You shift from your seat, feigning skittish. “Did my morose pique the curiosity of the grand performer? Or are you simply worried?”

“Neither.”

“What a benumbed reaction, Anaxa—“

“—goras.” He finishes for you. Usually, whenever he’d add on your behalf, you’d combat it with a snide but today, he’s left with nothing but silence. This made him look up from his instruments and papers, your lack of reactions made him forgo his current experiment.

It made him almost worry, almost.

He sighs instead. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter.”

“You’re quick to lie to me,” Anaxagoras is now facing you, laying a hand on his hip. “That seems like something.”

The way he conducts his questions is making you want to be defensive with your petulant behavior. “Even if something is on my mind, I don’t see why I should be telling you about it.”

“Maybe you should, because if I can find some way to help, your mood would lift, no?”

“Since when have you cared about my moods?”

Silence then.

“Are you aware of what the principle of correspondence is?” Anaxa mutters out and you have the urge to exhale.

“Please spare me a lecture…”

“As above, so below, as within so without.” The professor starts nonetheless. “Everything around us is a mirror that reflects a projection on both our inner and outer manners, think of the relationships as interconnected roots of trees or simply dendrites. It’s the simple work of magic tricks—human behaviors more so than divinity at play.” Anaxagoras approaches you, the chains of his eyepatch filling the slowness of the room.

He levels his face with yours and from your position, you can clearly anatomize the fullness of his eye from here—the hollow of mint with a cut of boysenberry in the center, glowing beneath long lashes.

He continues, “even if I’m half-dead as what that titan said, I can still feel your vibrations and stress, an internal conflict, it’s making shoddy trembles of my glass flasks on that desk.”

“How does that even—“

“Your feet.” Anaxa finally says. “You were unconsciously tapping your feet.”

Oh.

You lay your palms flat on your knees, an unconscious manner.

“I apologize.”

“So you have the decency to apologize and yet not speak your mind further?”

The silence is indefinite yet present. It shallows over at every retort that spills in between both your stubborn tongues.

You shake your head. “You’re difficult.”

His eyes narrow. “You are the one being difficult, actually. I offered help, you refused, I asked about your well-being, you dismissed me.”

“You should consider how your candidness makes it exceptionally hard for me to be open to you, maybe think about that.” You bite back at him, the tension threatening to spill over. “You’re the last person I’d want to go to whenever I have worries, so just simply drop it for today. I’d have to apologize for my lackings, I'll provide you with better companionship and arguments when I’m feeling well.”

“…Truly, I didn’t mean to come off as heartless—“ but you’d already brush past his shoulder before he can fully explain himself like he’d always have, leaving Anaxa to his bubbling vessels, untidy scrolls and a heavy sigh.

Much to his dismay instead of the privacy that he wishes after that argument, Cerces appears just as you vanish from his sight, a liquidy chuckle slipping past their lips. “Sometimes, I even wonder if your heart died along with you, child of humanity.”

“I’d rather you keep silent while I work.” Anaxagoras distastefully returns back to his apparatuses, more quiet and solemn than before.

“You should give chase.” Cerces suggested instead. “That child was simply worried.”

“Worried?” He finds the titan’s words as credulous. “Did you not see the flush of anger directed at me? Besides, I’m preoccupied right now.”

“You say you’re preoccupied and yet it’s you who seem quite distracted. Are you curious about their source of trouble?”

“It’s nothing new, arguments like that. We’ve known each other long before you ever knew me on my deathbed so back off.”

When he’d state his intentions clear, the Titan of Reason—unfazed in their countenance—leaves the professor to his own bearings and he finally has room to breathe.

Your relationship with him has always been rocky. Arguments and walking outs weren’t new, you used to debate about claims and theories a multitude of times back in the Grove, it was part of your dynamic, but every time he realizes belatedly how his string of words had cut you deep beyond the usual shallow jabs thrown on a daily, Anaxagoras cannot help but feel like his hollow chest is being twisted upside down.

In some way, maybe it mattered because despite the clashes and quarrels, you’d stay. You’ve stayed by him for years even after he was ridiculed as a blasphemous fool or a heretic—you’d stay even longer, waiting for him to finish lectern speeches or classes without so much as an ounce of complaint. A simple gesture that he’d been grateful of and even he admits to himself that seeing you being upset with him and his words were the least satisfying things to behold.

It did bother him but admitting that aloud to that titan was the last thing he’d want.

So after an hour or two after he knew you’d calm down, the professor drops his vials and walks down the distasteful and boisterous streets of Okhema in search of you—or more specifically, cruising over to Hyacine and asking for your whereabouts to save him the trouble of turning the Holy City upside down.

It was tempting, for the sake of bringing an irate reaction out of that woman and her golden threads, but his sick body and rational mind stopped him so.

“You are here.”

Anaxagoras has finally found you in some remote corner of the city, you were sitting shiftless above limestone, carving names upon ordinary stones. There was a spare moment in which his dull eyes sought down to you—he’d noticed how your hair is wind-swept and how strands of it stick to your forehead and the skin of your neck. The leaves of your collar are strewn as well, showing the barest hint of collarbones and almost immediately Anaxa shifts his eyes away, he’d asked what you were doing to distract himself from his own keen observations.

“Nobody will remember each scholar that perished fighting the Black tide. I’m merely writing companions I remember that I used to do thesis with, those that don’t have families here in Okhema to remember them…”

Anaxa observes you again, then after a long silence you feel him approaching closer, his shadow stretching before you. Your mind stirs in alertness, noticing what he’s up to—but Anaxa is always two steps ahead of you, before you can cease the pen laid by your side, he has already swiped it. You tried your best to wrestle it from him but Anaxa held it out of reach from you, causing you to sneer.

“Give that back. I forbid you to write your own epitaph!”

“And why not? I’ve done it once in the Grove—“

“Well, this isn’t the Grove—!“ You've paused quickly, noticing that you interrupted him. You waited for an ire to come throttling down at you but when you gaze back at him, Anaxagoras merely raises a brow at you, a faint sheet of amusement in his expression.

“Give me a stone.” He’d ask.

“No—“

“Stone.”

Your shoulders deflate at his tight tone, accepting defeat with petulance and a huff.

Stubborn man, you curse in your head. Stubborn and hard-headed and mean…You digress, ending up giving him one, laying the stone harsher onto his open palm than you intended but his expression remained amused.

When a balance of tamed silence settles, Anaxagoras is the first to speak again after writing an elegy onto the stone, changing the subject with ease.

“It's getting late, you should retire for today.”

And in response, you turn away with a quiet huff of breath. “I‘m…still not used to the Holy City's constant daylights, and I should be saying that to you, the moment you were given apparatuses to quell your complaints, you’ve been doing nothing but your experiments since you’ve arrived from your fight in Castrum Kremnos.”

“Well, thanks to your concern this ill-stricken body has been recovering. Besides, I have nothing much to do, especially when that woman’s threads are all over the place.”

“You almost died.” Your statement held more bite than necessary. For you it showed him your true feelings and for Anaxa—the answer to today’s dismay.

A laugh breaks from his lips.

“Is this why you’re upset?” There’s a hint of mirth in his tone. “You’re upset that I got hurt back at the Grove.”

You rise from your seat, meeting him tooth for tooth, jab for jab. “Is it truly hard for you to comprehend that there are people that care whether or not you’re doing well—?”

Despite your anger, Anaxa is distracted for a moment, watching the sneer on your lips shaping vowels and long consonants, almost as if you're baring your teeth at him. The sudden urge to lean down, kiss you quiet and taste those angry syllables on his teeth stirs in his mind.

The Nousporist sage is anything but a romantic, but temptation truly is a humanistic sin, what is he to be shameful for such selfishness?

“It’s not that.” He answers your spite with dullness. “My field of study has made it easy to forget about one's well-being. You of all people know that very well.”

“Anaxagoras, you could’ve died again and—“

He never wanted for you to concern yourself with him like this. Anaxagoras knew he was risking himself, the nuances of alchemy and the splitting of his soul. So how come—observing the way your expression creases with a certain type of pain that makes it seem like you were the one that felt it, not him.

“If you continue like this, I would go through the same grief of losing you like I did the first time around.”

“Don’t say that, as a Chrysos heir it’s bound to—“ Anaxa is surprised when you reach out to touch him, to dare touch him so freely and yet rebuttals fall flat on his heavy tongue. The warmth of your fingertips that brush over the coolness of his own palm, you bring his hand up to cradle your cheek with utter delicacy like you’re holding glass, it makes his mind go numb.

He is aware of the way his skin dances with the plush warmth of your cheek, strands of your hair he wishes to tangle between his long fingers—to give into temptation and drag his hand slowly down your jaw, the expanse of your neck, down your arms…

“You really should start taking care of yourself more.” Your lips murmur onto his open palm. “Maybe not for yourself, but for me and Hyacine.”

He swallows. ”…I cannot keep promises.”

And you’d feel a faint tug on his end—and that fissures the tension. You let go and he quickly lets his own arm fall back to his side immediately. There’s a part of you that was terrified at the thought of offending him, you never got into Anaxagoras’ bubble without permission, your relationship stayed at a mere arm’s length. Only quirked lips with tongues of appraisals and maybe the occasional longing stares from across large rooms were exchanged between the two of you, no shoulder brushing, hand-holding, breaths upon goosebumped necks—this was your first time ever touching him, his numbed, cold skin against your own.

Maybe your sudden approach shocked him from his nonchalance and arrogance, you’d know because for the first time since you’ve known him, Anaxagoras’ frown is an inch too deep and there’s a concerned fold on his brow.

He clears his throat, his eye looking anywhere but at you. “I need to go, I have to meet with the other Chrysos heirs at the baths today.”

Anaxa looked quite adamant to join the meeting, despite his distaste of the baths and Chrysos heir meetings.

He spares you one last look, “after you’re done with your business, you really should try to rest.”

You frown at his dismissive behavior, nodding your head nonetheless. “Alright, best of luck then.”

He’d merely nod stiffly at your reply and quickly turn on his heel. You would have let out a heavy exhale and scold yourself for touching him without prior permission—if it weren't for a certain titan that appeared before you, their brown curls turning gold under Kephale’s dawn.

“He’s quite provocative, that Nousporist sage, don't you think so too?” Cerces spares you conversation, their voice honeyed with light teasing.

“Anaxagoras’ probably born to be spiteful, so I cannot fault him for such a character flaw, we all have one.”

“You’re fond of him, aren’t you?” Cerces states and heat furnaces upon your cheek at their bold claim. Before you can find some excuse to defend yourself, they spoke again.

“So is he to you. I’ve noticed that whenever you’re around, he’s reduced to a passive child. His tongue is barely glib when you try to put him in his place and the way those sharp eyes soften, oh it reminds me of my lover all too much. It’s an endearing exchange.”

Cerces spoke their affections and you could do nothing but listen to them with a credulous expression. Anaxagoras being endeared by you? You’d try to wrack your mind of instances where you capture such a manner, but all you can remember of him was his sassiness, his dullness, his casual dismissiveness. There was no softness, endearments, fondness.

Despite being called the Titan of reason, you find their reasoning hard to comprehend.

You wouldn’t have believed them, that is until you gaze back at Anaxagoras’ retreating form in the distance and watch him closely, and closely you watch when you catch him moving his hand that you held so closely,

Observing how he flexes his fingers by his side.

[housemdork]

6x11: when a reductive gay joke plotline is still queer-coded (or more metatextual queerness in house md)

in its later seasons, house md keeps doing this really funny thing where they play into house and wilson with increasingly low-hanging fruit gay jokes (dw i still laugh lol). but they manage this without sacrificing the 6 seasons' worth of cultivated subtext that permits genuine queer coding above queerbait/2000s gay jokes/etc. 6x11 is one of the best examples of this so far.

so i'm not a musical junkie, and i'm sure this has already been written about to hell and back, but 6x11 prompted me to look more into the song that wilson was singing at the end of the episode.

"one" from the musical a chorus line (also the poster house bought):

"One singular sensation Every little step she takes One thrilling combination Every move that she makes One smile and suddenly nobody else will do You know you'll never be lonely with you-know-who!"

according to genius lyrics, "Despite the lyrics which praise a singular star, the star at whom it’s directed is never shown. The “One” is absent...The star is not even named – only referred to as ‘she’ or ‘You Know Who.’"

there is a "one" in 6x11 - nora, whom both house and wilson stake their claims for dating (which is exceptionally gross & misogynistic of them). but the song/musical choice implies that she was never important enough to be The One in question.

this frame seems self-aware of the potential absence of "The One." the shot gives the impression of symmetry, but it's very uneven. house is reclined back, warping the straight line of the couch, and the boxes on wilson's side are neat and tidied, whereas those on house's side are sparse and thrown about. more importantly, there's that arm rest between house and wilson's seats. if The One (nora) was to sit anywhere, this frame seems to imply that it would be there.

thus, this frame isn't straight.

house seems to be aware of this pseudo-absence, as well. he looks at wilson with a thoughtful, revelatory look on his face:

superficially, he's probably just astounded that wilson is singing the song from a musical he hates so much, but he lets the song continue, nonetheless. here, the episode remembers the genre of the song that wilson is singing - a showtune! and what happens in showtunes/musicals? the singers are spot-lit! the audience watches them perform!

here i'm gonna posit that wilson is a (non-self aware) paul, a chorus line's man character whose revelation that he's gay is both tragic but also drives the plot. house can see this. meta-textually, we see this THROUGH house seeing this.

taken together, this scene's asymmetry, implied spotlight, and awkward arm rest divide offer wilson as the performer in this musical-adjacent exchange, with house as the in-text audience, and us, the real audience, as the outer-textual audience. what a long winded way of saying that wilson is performing comphet here!

and there's another note i want to make on the subject of performance/performativity...

this is from the golden globes official article, "'A Chorus Line' Brought Visibility to Queer Stories in the 70s and 80s'":

"The audience gets to see [Paul, the main character's] valor, which may be an inspiration to those in the audience who face similar challenges."

wilson's proposal to house is complete performance. the entire precedent for the scene is just gay joke after gay joke and wilson's anxiety that this false impression of him will negatively impact his dating life.

when he makes this performance of homosexuality, he's lauded for it. the restaurant urges house to say yes, and everybody claps even before house has given an answer.

also from the article: " The character of Paul delivers a touching monologue about how performing revealed his identity as a gay man."

6x11 inverts this dynamic. the performance in question is that of homosexuality, and wilson is not rewarded for it in the end. he loses The One, as does house, and they go home and watch a hockey game together in yet another intricate ritual (as stated above).

i also think there's something to be said about house enlisting nora's help in bringing the poster for a chorus line up to his apartment.

i'm genuinely hesitant to applaud this show - or any show, really - for subtextual intentionality like this. i have a hard time believing that there was, long ago, a time where tv didn't just capitalize off fandom's tendency to pair up its characters in our internet fanbase/fanfiction age but deliberately queer-coded things. but even silly episodes like this one remind me of that one robert sean leonard quote about house and wilson, that they are the only relationship in the show based completely on choice - the choice to always come back to each other.

all that is to say that i sincerely think these 2 are written in a subversion of gender norms and binary platonic/romantic relationships. for 2000s tv, that's just like lightning in a bottle.

oh and apparently there's a gay character named greg in the musical, too. someone who's more qualified to talk about a chorus line should hijack this post. what the hell are we doing, david shore.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Mix Sahaphap gets to perform (and has the performance chops to perform) in a style that I’ve never seen any other male actor get to embody. Mix gets to unironically play the #strongfemalecharacter. The Beatrice, the Elizabeth Bennett, the Jo March. Strong-willed, emotional, kind-hearted.

Not only do the plot points line up, but Mix, more than any BL actor I’ve seen, fully leans into the embodiment of this archetype. In his roles, he rolls his eyes, pouts, banters flirtatiously, softens his posture and expression at small details. He doesn’t over-exaggerate and imposition other characters but his face also doesn’t hold back his character’s thoughts and judgments. And when the moments arrive, he lets all the hurt and anguish pour out in shatters of tears and visible heartbreak—the star-counting scene, anyone????—in a way that harkens to the operatic emotionality of well-done melodramas, soap-operas, and their contemporary Thai equivalent of Lakorn. It’s only that these have never been men’s roles in those.

It’s no surprise that one of Mix’s roles—Cupid’s Last Wish—is explicitly a gender body-swap, and Tian in A Tale of Thousand Stars is (albeit explicitly denied within the show) heavily connected to gender body-swapping. What Mix specializes in as an actor, and does exceptionally well, has been defined as feminine. To depict a kind of queer expression in this style is novel because it’s not camp, it’s not okama, it’s not a soft or femboy, it’s not a BL twink (Mix has been mostly excluded from the schoolyards and quads of the BL universe except for a role as a senior crush in Fish Upon the Sky). It’s too sincere and too adult for any of that.

In Moonlight Chicken we get to see, without the pretense of gendered mysticism, this performance style’s seduction, warmth, wit, and explosiveness within the framework of a general gay form of expression. It says that this kind of femininity might just be a gay thing. Not all gay men exhibit it, obviously—queer men aren’t a monolith. Still, it gives us something to consider about how we observe performance of queerness on screen, especially in front of an audience that puts so much more emphasis on ships, heat, and pairing chemistry to assess how well they perform a BL role. Could we look for other features to judge performance of queerness instead of how well they kiss?

Seme and uke roles would be the major performance style categories loyal BL fans assess actors with, yet even within the archetype his character’s fill within BL narratives, Mix’s performances differ from the typical uke depiction in BL because he really doesn’t perform them as passive. Rather, Mix’s characters and his portrayal of them are dynamic and demanding. It certainly fits certain stereotypes of ukes (Gilbert!) and their gay stereotype equivalent of bottoms as pillow princesses and brats. Mix’s characters, though, have more drive, agency, and compassion than that, and he plays them with all of those currents running underneath.

We certainly have openly gay writer/director Aof Noppharnach to thank for writing this kind of queer character for Mix to play in Tian and Wen. But for Mix’s specific commitment to the performance starting off with his (debut!?) role in ATOTS, we first have Earth to thank for believing in Mix’s ability and recommending him to portray the role of Tian, and then Aof’s acceptance despite his differing initial expectations for the character. Mix, Earth, and Aof have all been open about how Mix in his personal life and nature holds a lot of similarities to both his role as Tian in ATOTS and Wen in Moonlight Chicken. Some people might knock points off his performances because he’s like them. But his relationship to the characters, rather than dampening my enthusiasm for Mix’s performances, helps me appreciate his willingness to give an authentic performance in a style that hasn’t been encouraged on screens previously. It’s made more impactful that he chose to risk vulnerability to bring something personal that had previously been excluded from screens because of its gender deviance (and in broader society explicitly condemned). This doesn’t make a claim on Mix’s actual identity, but simply shows his willingness to understand and perform the expressions of his queer characters with an effort at empathy that many other actors would feel challenged to bring.

Some actors are chameleons, but some actors have a gift of a type within which they can explore depths and range that no one else can best. For me, that’s what Mix does in his work when directors and casting understands his talent. There’s a BTS video of Mix actually fainting during a scene while in Earth/Phupa’s embrace on the mountain that immediately brought to mind the wildly famous final scene in the film Camille where Greta Garbo as Marguerite dies in her lover’s arms.

For Mix, it was a serious incident due to regrettably extreme conditions and requiring the on-set paramedics, but these levels of theatrics, for me, are emblematic of what Mix is capable of as a performer, as well. After all, he had to faint in Phupa’s arms multiple times on purpose. It’s the kinds of Old Hollywood and heightened sentimental romance realms Mix takes his performances to! Then he can turn around and make it look easy to take that same character into grounded quips or dedicated everyday tasks. It only takes writers, directors, and audiences willing to see that men can feel this way and act this way. Mix has paved the way.

[chainofclovers]

Apparently I’m not done rambling about Hacks s4 despite posting a bunch of thoughts earlier. I’ve been seeing the sentiment that Deborah was treating Ava badly in 4x10 and being disappointing or gross for abusing substances (I’m obviously paraphrasing here, and trying not to vaguepost too egregiously) and that 4x10 was anticlimactic and a backslide and disappointing after the incredible finale-esque intensity of 4x9, and I feel so differently about it that I think I’m gonna try to write out my thoughts as to why that is!

I think Deborah is really scared.

She has always looked out for herself. She said herself, early in her relationship with Ava, that “there is no line.” But she found the line, and did not cross it. After achieving her dream and surpassing all hopes for how well the show would do (except, of course, her own hopes, and Ava’s hopes), she made a decision that was both perfectly in-character and a massive departure from all the other times when she’s made progress or taken great strides in her work or overcame challenges precisely because she was looking out for herself. And all along, Ava’s been causing her to question whether she was always respecting herself while looking out for Number One, and those little critiques and questions are in the mix as she’s exhibited great character growth but is now spiraling in ways that are very disrespectful to her brain and body.

It makes so much sense to me that Deborah would stall on working on new material despite suggesting to Ava that they’ll be finding their next thing together in 4x9. (She’s just given up what she thought would be the ultimate culmination of what she’d worked for, and while she’s put a lot of work into finding an exploitable loophole so she can perform again, it doesn’t really feel like she’s let herself mourn.) It also makes sense to me that she’d escape into alcohol; she’s always liked to drink quite a bit, but this feels like desperate escapism rather than debauchery (even if she’s very careful to make it look debaucherous and fun when she’s in front of Ava). I think she’s terrified to feel anything deep or dark for longer than a few seconds right now, hence all the cookies in bed and airplane bottles poured into Diet Coke and giggling about how many cocktails she’s had.

And for all that she is critical of Ava (in ways she ought to turn around on herself) and for all that she’s procrastinating all her feelings and really putting the “non-linear” into non-linear progress, I think it’s really exceptionally notable that she never once articulates REGRET. She knows she made the right choice in quitting Late Night. She knows she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if she hadn’t. She knows she prioritized the right person. She’s making mistakes left and right and she’s deeply depressed and she’s falling back into the “conniving” that was always more fun when it was in cahoots with other people and she’s struggling. But she doesn’t betray Ava or herself by letting her sadness turn into wishing she hadn’t done the right thing. That feels huge to me.

A lot of movies end directly after the climax; the main character takes their big stand, and it’s exciting and intense and powerful, and we leave the theater still full of adrenaline. I think it’s really important that 4x10 was 4x10 and not 5x1. The aftermath of Deborah’s decision is a part of this story. And I found it interesting and touching to watch Deborah and Ava kinda suck at navigating the aimless misery of being in a mutually-beneficial partnership that prioritizes comedy over literally everything else here in a stretch of months in which nothing’s really that funny.

[trulyhblue]

INAPPROPRIATE

leah williamson x arsenal! reader

warnings — tiny angst, annoyed! Leah, Emma Hayes, Chelsea, sorta fluff, coarse language, mention of injury scare.

A/N — in light of Lee’s birthday!!!! short one today, sorry! Thought I would add some spice to this. Emma Hayes needs to realize that pretty much all of woso have dated each other, including her own players lol. there is a mention of Bug, which is a character in one of my stories. Just for context, that is Caitlin Foord’s daughter.

___________________

After hearing Emma Hayes yap on about her opinion on footballers' relationships, you found yourself subjected to a pretty pissed-off Leah Williamson.

Today was the London derby, a long-awaited revenge for Chelsea, it seemed, as the Arsenal bus arrived outside the stadium. Seas of blue and red treaded the stands — you caught sight of a couple of jerseys with your number plastered on the back. Leah was holding your waist as you wandered through the mob of fans reaching for autographs and pictures, a cold facade planted across her face.

Leah was always solemn before games. She was a serious contender, North London bred, with a serious competitive nature that no one could break down.

When you moved to Arsenal from your childhood club, you instantly caught onto Leah’s prominent soberness. Every player knew that if they didn't show up for a game and give it their all, their position would falter. It wasn't like any player with a job as a professional ever thought to underperform, but Leah was an exemption from sincerity. You couldn't joke with her the same way you could during team bonding. You would be stupid to slack off during training or talk to an exaggerated extent when Leah was running beside you. The Lioness Captain copped none of it, and there was no exception for you, her girlfriend.

The woman had woken up with an eminent frown playing on her lips. This was arguably the most important game of the WSL season, and with Leah starting after a long time away, there was a newfound angst set in your shared apartment.

Not only that — the stress Leah had put on herself to perform exceptionally — but the media spotlight Chelsea’s Emma Hayes has put on herself after a certain interview regarding coach-player, and player-player relationships.

From your viewpoint, it didn't really affect you. Everyone had their own opinions based on who dated whom. There was no stopping someone for sharing what they thought, so you simply shook it off as soon as you watched the clip. You did feel bad for the select few of the Blue’s team that were dating players. To not have the personal backing of your coach wouldn't be the most relieving sensation. You knew that the fans were in upheaval regarding her comments, but to be honest, there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

But, it seemed that Leah did not share the same insight as you.

“She can't just go ‘round saying that.” She barked, hiding the Emirates logo as she crossed her arms in disapproval. “It's barmy, that's what it is.”

You were side by side in the change rooms. Leah was already in her kit, the Chelsea socks sticking out like a sore thumb. You were tugging up your shorts, your shirt yet to cover your sports bra. You sighed, having been hearing Leah go on for the best part of the morning.

“You shouldn't let it worry you, Lee.” You muttered, sorting through your bag, ignoring your girlfriend’s huff. “I don't think she meant any harm—”

“Well she did, didn't she?” She retorted.

You pulled your jersey off the hanger, slipping it on. “Leah, c’mon.”

“Why does she feel the need to talk about us, huh? She should be more worried about the amount of injuries on her team, not about what they do in their free time.”

“Leah, that's enough.” You snapped, your hands planted firmly on your hips. The blonde in front of you looked subtly started by your sudden change of demeanour. “Don't worry about it. It's not worth your time.”

You were currently faced with the nerves of the game, on top of other things like international duties, and the Olympics. To have Leah in this mood, in such a critical time like this, was not only overwhelming but downright anxiety-inducing.

Leah didn't answer you. Instead, she tied her laces and crossed the room, exiting into the tunnel for kick-off. This gave you a few minutes to breathe, to centre yourself. You weren't starting, but your nerves were rising by the time you took your seat next to Alessia.

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Chelsea had it covered. Alessia joked that it was the socks, but you could see by the look on Lee’s face that she was fuming from something other than the odd black that covered her shin pads. You warmed up along the sideline, carrying Caitlin’s bug by your side when you saw her growing restless near Frida.

Unlike the rest of your teammates, you bit their nails at the painful game in front of them, you tried to hone your focus on keeping Bug’s hood down, making her giggle instead of wince at the tackles Caitlin was receiving.

You had been benched for the past few games, your hamstring giving you grief over training. But you were anticipating Jonas to call you over. You waited for the flick of his hand, wanting to make things right on the pitch.

The second-half whistle couldn't have come slower. The starting eleven were frustrated, angry, and quiet when entering the changing rooms, an eerie aura lingering inside. You held onto Bug all the way until Caitlin took over, trudging over to Viv, who happily took the girl up to the stands to watch. Jonas had told you and Emily that you’d be put on, so you were preparing yourself for what was to come.

You tried not to interact with Leah. It was an unspoken rule that unless it was personal, it was not to be said directly, especially when you were losing. But the blonde was leaning nearer to you the closer you were meant to be out on the pitch once more. She made the effort to tug at the hem of your shorts, and hold both your shoulders as she stood behind you, listening to the plan for the rest of the game. You pushed your back into her chest, letting her hug you from behind. She squeezed affectionately, and you noticed the subtle unravelling of her tense shoulders. Her features smoothed when she found out you were replacing Victoria in the midfield, and she made sure to hold your hand as you walked back into the stadium.

“You're doing great, Lee.” You managed to say, hoping that your substitution would be before the sixtieth minute. “Just be careful near the wing. It's very congested and you should wait for the midfield to sort it, alright?”

Leah cared deeply about her career and strived for greatness in all that she did. There was nothing that she couldn't achieve without perfection in her eyes. Many people said that you would bring her down to Earth, and remind her that mistakes are human. But there was only so much you could do, and you found that simply telling the girl that she was making the right decisions, treating her softly, was a tactic no game plan could ever beat.

You were about to find your way down the sidelines, getting ready to finish your warm-up before you were subbed on. Both teams had started filing out of their respected halftime seminars, Chelsea looking as confident as ever. Arsenal were sauntering out with much determination, the spite and inherent desire for justice spewing from the gunner’s crowd. Leah and you were near the entrance of the tunnel, standing on the edge of the field in what seemed like your own personal bubble.

Jonas had taken a seat near the rest of the officials, but Chelsea’s Emma Hayes was standing not far from where the two of you stood, skimming her surroundings vaguely without giving too much away. You could feel the irritation radiating off Leah as soon as the woman was in your sight. You both knew the coach was trying to look at you, without it being bitterly obvious, but it seemed to make the tension rise all the more. Your girlfriend found solace in kissing your forehead, running her hands down your sides painstakingly slow. You felt your cheeks go red, the blush filming over your face when Hayes’ eyes darted away.

“Leah.” You warned her wandering hands, squirming in the taller girl’s potent grip around your hips.

You pulled taunt against her, sighing when she loosened. She ignored your scolding look. A smirk was aligned on her lips, threatening to spill the cocky remarks relieving her lips. You watched her run over to the rest of the team, a meek smile matching hers.

God, you couldn't wait to go home.

_________________

A/N — again, sorry it's really short but I wanted to put something out xxxxxx

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Irene Papas (Tribute to a Bad Man, Electra, Zorba the Greek)—"From the opening shot of Michael Cacoyannis's Electra, as the proud, implacable face emerges from encroaching shadows, it becomes impossible to imagine anyone else as Euripides's heroine. Erect, immutably dignified, dark eyes burning fiercely beneath heavy black brows, Irene Papas visibly embodies the sublimity of classical Greece, tragic yet serene." -Philip Kemp (film critic) Also she's a a badass.

Vivien Leigh (Gone with the Wind, A Streetcar Named Desire)—Leigh is exceptionally beautiful. To quote Garson Kanin, Leigh was "a stunner whose ravishing beauty often tended to obscure her staggering achievements as an actress. Great beauties are infrequently great actresses—simply because they don't need to be. Vivien was different; ambitious, persevering, serious, often inspired." She was an actor's actor, one of those big old-school theatre dames, full of drama and temper.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Irene Papas:

An amazing actress and singer, some may say a literal Greek goddess. Fought against military dictatorship in her home country and had an affair with Marlon Brando.

She literally played Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world in Greek mythology, what more could you want

Vivien Leigh propaganda:

"I submit this gifset--help she is so beautiful and tragic"

"Extremely versatile, absolutely beautiful features and a wonderful resting bitch face if needed."

"She has such a range of character types that she could fit any favorite type of woman. And have you seen her in the Red Dress? with her cocked eyebrow???"

[Linked GwtW gifset]

"She played one of the most famously unlikable characters in cinema history and knocked it out of the park."

"Vivien Leigh vs every established and wannabe actress on Earth- grand slam winner for Scarlett O'Hara and won the oscar. Ultimate power couple with hottie finalist Laurence Olivier. I am just on my knees for that arched eyebrow and smouldering look."

"She’s just mmm the PASSION behind her performances is palpable, she’s so beautiful and elegant and amazing and yeah"

"look at her. im a gay man and im in love with her"

[sk-touchthesun]

A few days late, but Dead Boy Detectives character appreciation week, day 3: Crystal Palace Surname-Von Hoverkraft

🔮Everyone's favorite psychic! From the very beginning of the show Crystal stands out with her determination, moral compass, and her will to help those in need. Therefore, it comes as a surprise to the viewer when we learn about Crystal's past and the things she did before losing her memories.

To me, it seems that the most important theme with Crystal is that your past doesn't need to define you. Whatever happened to you, whatever you did, you can always strive to take matters into your own hands and choose better in future. She also possesses a great deal of emotional intelligence and, unlike the boys, knows how to discuss feelings. It's largely thanks to her that Charles and Edwin start to be more open with each other.

Crystal's complexities are perfectly portrayed by the talented Kassius Nelson who brilliantly captures the nuances of her character. From exceptionally kind to strong-willed, from scared to bold, Kassius makes Crystal just as complex as any real person with her outstanding performance.

–

🎨I'm not hundred percent satisfied with this, but oh well. And it's still character appreciation week, so I'm not that late... Right? Right? I was originally planning to draw at least the core four, but I doubt I'll manage Niko by tomorrow. I will draw her at some point, but will most likely post very very late. Apologies for that, real life's been a lot lately.

[tabletopresources]

Image credit "Fishing" By yonaz

So in last night's 3.5 edition D&D game, my players had a chance to do some ice fishing and one player called out for one of my ad hoc mini-games (I do this a lot haha). I wanted something simple, a combo of character skill and some luck, and so in short order ended up with this very quick mini-game you can easily employ.

:

Quick Disclaimer: These fishing mini-game mechanics may not be entirely original and could resemble systems from other games I just can't recall. For my part, I'm posting this FOR sharing. Feel free to use, adapt, or modify them in your own games as you see fit. No ownership or exclusivity is claimed over this idea—enjoy and share as you wish!

:

Fishing Mini-Game (D&D 3.5 Edition)

Step 1: Build the Fishing Pool

The player rolls a number of d6 equal to their relevant skill modifier (Survival or Profession (Fisher)).

Example: A character with a +10 in Survival rolls 10d6 and sets these dice aside as their "Fishing Pool".

Fishing Pool Example Roll: 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6.

Step 2: Perform the Fishing Check

The player then rolls 5d6 as their "Fishing Check" for one hour of fishing.

Example Roll: 1, 2, 4, 4, 6.

Step 3: Match for Combos

The player now attempts to match the dice results from their Fishing Pool with their Fishing Check results to form combos. The number of dice used in the combo determines the size of the fish:

Small Fish: Match 2 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Medium Fish: Match 3 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Large Fish: Match 5 dice from the Fishing Pool with the Fishing Check.

Example Combo:

If the player's Fishing Pool has dice showing 1, 2, 4, 4, and 6, they could match all 5 dice with their Fishing Check, catching a Large Fish.

Step 4: Fish Weight and Rations

Once the fish is caught, the total weight of the edible parts of the fish is determined by summing the values of the dice used in the combo.

Example: For a Large Fish (1, 2, 4, 4, 6), the total weight is 1+2+4+4+6 = 17 kg.

To calculate the number of rations provided by the fish:

1 kg = 2,000 calories (or half a ration).

Rations Formula: Divide the total weight of the fish by 2.

Example: 17 kg / 2 = 8.5 kg or 8 rations (we round down).

Step 5: Continue or Stop

After catching a fish, remove the dice used from the Fishing Pool.

If the player still has at least 2 dice left in their Fishing Pool, they can attempt to catch another fish using the same Fishing Check results. Otherwise, they are done for that hour.

That's all that we did and they loved it!

But since then we've considered how future games or others might expand on it with special roll combos, items, locations, setting conditions, Aid Other, etc. So here are some...

Optional Add-Ons and Considerations

Multiple Attempts Per Hour:

If the player rolls exceptionally well on their Fishing Pool, they may be able to attempt fishing multiple times in an hour. To keep this simple, I'd say if they are able to clear the first Pool entirely, they get a brand new roll, a whole new Pool as if starting fishing over, but they keep their previous catches.

Modifiers and Conditions:

You could introduce conditions that affect the Fishing Pool or Fishing Check rolls:

Good Fishing Spot: +1d6 to the Fishing Pool.

Bad Weather/Overfished Area: -1d6 (or more) to the Fishing Pool or disadvantage (see 5e, we use this idea quite a bit even in our 3.5e games) on Fishing Check rolls.

Magic/Luck Items: Grant rerolls or bonus dice to the Fishing Pool or allow rerolls of the Fishing Check.

Special Fish Combos:

Occasionally, you could allow rare or magical fish (or larger species) that provide bonuses or other effects; perhaps these are possible if the combos use specific die results:

Giant Fish: Requires a match of dice with identical values, but double the weight result (ex: a medium fish that used 5,5,5 would be a Giant of its type, and grant 15x2 or 30 kg of edible parts!).

Magical Fish: Grants temporary bonuses, like extra HP or special buffs, when consumed. (ex. A combo of sequential rising values, like 1,2,3,4,5, would grant a Magical Large fish)

Fishing Tools and Bait:

Fishing equipment or bait could modify the rolls:

Better Rods/Lines: Allow rerolls or add extra dice to the Fishing Pool.

Special Bait/Lures: Increases chances of catching better or more fish (ex. set any one die result to 6; or allow player to select the value of any one die, etc.).

Aid Other

Another player can choose to assist Player A if they are proficient in the same associated skill (Survival or Profession (Fisher), etc based on your setting):

Player B (helper) rolls for the associated skill.

If the result of their skill check (rolled like any other skill check) is 10-19, Player A gains 1 extra die in their fishing Pool.

If the result of their skill check is 20 or higher, Player A gains 2 extra dice in their fishing Pool.

Player A can then use these extra dice to help form better combos when matching against their Fishing Check.

Let me know if you use this mini-game in your D&D sessions, or revamp it for the tabletop rpg/edition you play!

I'd love to hear your stories of the biggest catch, or lamenting that one LEGENDARY CATCH that got away!

And check out Tabletop Gaming Resources for more art, tips, and tools for your game!

[sm-baby]

Dissection/Theory Analysis of Able:

So we all know about how Caine constantly feels undermined by his little brother's overachieving, but how does Able feel about it? I think the things that he does aren't ill-intended - he's instead trying to keep up with the great achievements of his older brother(how Caine knows multiple languages and has many accolades) and in his admiration of his brother's feats incidentally surpasses them from all the effort he puts into each act. Each pursuit he bests Caine in is just an attempt to better understand his brother by becoming a master in the things Caine likes.

Able is inherently people-pleasing, and that initial urge to perform exceptionally and be praised for it(starting with Caine and their parents) has expanded so much that the need to be the "good brother" is something that has fully taken over his identity - causing his gentleman act and his superior skill in everything Caine does. It is no longer just having the right cards to play at the right time to impress others, he must always be on top and visibly be doing so(aka why his face is the four aces in a suit of cards).

But, he's become so blinded by the need to excel in everything he does that he's gone into complete tunnel vision with his "perfect" facade and feels that his brother is the closest thing he has to a real connection with someone without having to be "the best". And even then, with his own brother, he's not comfortable enough to completely let his guard down and be a person without focusing on pleasing everyone around him

This is a long ask sorry haha

I love my man Able and I have so many theories about how he's handling all the pressure(I'm down bad for him AND want to psychoanalyze him since you gave us such juicy material in the Freakshow fic(which I'd guess is at least partially true to the direction you're heading with him in the carnival and normal aus)). He's my poor little meow meow(even tho he seems mostly fine in all the art we've seen of him) :)

Freakshow Au by: @hootbon

This made me so incredibly happy i couldn't help but doodle him over and over,,

I love psycho-analysis of my characters,, gonna read this over and over.. man you put my ideas for him into WORDS and that's the coolest thing ever.. i never thought Able would be described as "people pleasing" but MAN.. YOU ARE ABSOLUTLY CORRECT... GOD DAM...

Also aboslutely estatic that you took his psycho-analysis from the chosen one fic.. yesss.. i am very happy with Able and Caine's relationship and I'm especially happy with freakshow able's writing in both the fic and just in general. thank you for this,, made my night!

[shiani25]

If you're okay then maybe you could write Starscream wearing his crown, roleplaying as a King and Megatron as his knight? Chaos ensues over the Decepticons as they continue to play and act like this for the whole day. Sfw, could be any form of art please.

"The Nemesis Theatre Disaster"

Morale on the Nemesis was at an all-time low.

The Decepticons had suffered setback after setback, Autobots ruining their plans at every turn. The troops were sluggish, unmotivated, and even the usual entertainments—like fighting matches in the training room or gambling on who would get punched by Megatron first—had lost their charm.

Knockout, ever the perfectionist, hated this.

“Low morale leads to low productivity, Lord Megatron!” he argued, arms crossed. “And low productivity leads to poor results! Do you want your forces to perform at half capacity?”

Megatron, who had just suffered through an exceptionally sloppy battle, ex-vented through his denta. “…No.”

Knockout smirked victoriously. “Exactly! So, we need a solution.”

As second-in-command Starscream immediately took this as his chance to shine.

“Clearly, what we need is art,” he declared dramatically, wings flaring. “A distraction to lift spirits and remind our troops that the Decepticons are more than just warriors—we are thinkers, creatives, visionaries—”

“I am going to regret asking this,” Megatron muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but what are you suggesting?”

Starscream grinned.

“We shall host a play!”

Megatron’s spark sank. He had already made a mistake.

---

Knockout, not surprisingly, loved the idea.

“Oh, brilliant! We’ll make it grand! A true spectacle! And I shall be the director, of course.”

Starscream scoffed. “Obviously. Who else could handle such an important task? Vehicons? I don't think so.”

With that settled, the disaster spiraled quickly.

Starscream, as the most gifted with words (his own assessment), was put in charge of writing the script.

Breakdown and Soundwave were tasked with handling props, stage construction, and lighting. Soundwave, with his usual eerie efficiency, had it all set up within hours, while Breakdown spent most of the time wondering how he’d been dragged into this.

The casting process was… interesting.

“You, Lord Megatron, shall play the part of my loyal knight!” Starscream announced, puffing his chestplate with pride.

Megatron immediately hated this. “No.”

Starscream waved dismissively. “Too late! The script is already written. You swore an oath of fealty to my character—King Starflare the Magnificent—and I expect you to act accordingly.”

Megatron turned to Knockout. “You will regret this.”

Knockout, adjusting his director’s cap, just grinned. “Oh, I already do. But I’m enjoying the chaos too much to stop now.”

---

Opening Night.

The entire crew gathered in the Nemesis’ cargo bay-turned-theatre. Seats had been arranged, a stage had been built, and Soundwave had somehow rigged up an actual lighting system.

The play began.

And it was an utter disaster.

Starscream’s script was atrocious.

The story followed the noble and glorious King Starflare (played by Starscream) as he ruled his kingdom with unmatched wisdom, beauty, and grace. His loyal knight, Sir Mediumtron (played by a very unamused Megatron), was his fiercest defender, sworn to protect him at all costs.

The problem?

The dialogue was awful.

Megatron read from the script with the enthusiasm of a mech contemplating self-destruction. “Oh, my most radiant lord, my sword and spark are ever at your service. I shall smite thine enemies with the fury of a thousand sunrises. —” He paused. Looked at the next word. “... Mediumtron looked at his king with admiration because he secretly loved him.”

"Those are stage directions you should not read that part!!"

Starscream, standing dramatically on a fake throne, waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, you must sell it, Megatron. The people need to believe in your love and devotion to your king!”

Megatron’s fist clenched. “I am going to kill you.”

The troops in the audience were barely holding in their laughter.

Things only got worse.

Breakdown had built the worst props possible, including a cardboard dragon that was supposed to be the grand final battle but looked more like a sickly Turbofox with wings.

Knockout, being Knockout, had focused entirely on style, giving everyone elaborate capes that got tangled in their movements.

Soundwave had rigged the lighting too well, and at one point, a dramatic spotlight hit Starscream so hard he tripped on his own cape and faceplanted off the stage.

That was honestly Megatron's favourite part.

The audience erupted into laughter.

Starscream shot up, flustered and furious. “Silence, peasants! You dare mock your king?!”

That only made them laugh harder.

Megatron, suffering through one of his worst cycles yet, rubbed his optics and sighed. “Starscream, end this madness.”

Starscream huffed. “The finale has yet to—”

That was when the cardboard dragon collapsed mid-scene, knocking over an entire set piece. Breakdown cursed as props went flying. The whole stage fell apart, leaving Starscream standing awkwardly in the wreckage.

Silence.

Then—

Thunderous applause.

The troops loved it.

They cheered, whistled, and shouted for more. They weren’t laughing at Starscream—they were genuinely entertained. For the first time in weeks, the Decepticons were actually happy.

Starscream was taking in all that applause and pretended all was according to his plan.

Knockout smirked, leaning against Megatron. “Well, Lord Megatron? Morale’s never been higher.”

Megatron groaned. His dignity was in tatters, but…

If the troops were happy, then maybe it was worth it.

…Still, he would make Starscream and Knockout suffer for this later.

[teeztruthers24]

You've taught me what home is - and for that, you are my home

PAIRINGS: yunho x mingi x reader (poly relationship)

WARNINGS: anxiety-related rumination mentioned, brief mentions of OC sending seemingly threatening messages to main characters and brief (not graphic at all or explained) mentions of harm and explicit messages (please stay safe <3)

Also, this is a reader insert so there are no physical characteristics mentioned of 'You' except it is implied 'you' is feminine and suffers from anxiety.

FYI: none of the characterisations in this fic of any real-life people should be considered true-telling of the real individual. This is just a work of fiction and does not represent anyone in their real-life.

SUMMARY:

Yunho, Mingi and, You are all dating - and everything is perfect. Yunho and Mingi are part of a band that does exceptionally well and you face your own challenges at work and from family, but nothing else in the world can ruin your mood when you're with your boys.

So why then, does overhearing a conversation right before the boys perform on stage, send your heart shattering and make you question your relationship status?

And more importantly, how do Yunho and Mingi fix what they don't even know they've caused?

START:

The people around you might think you’re relationship was…unusual. Might even go as far as to call the three of you strange for failing to be monogamous and having one lover instead of having both. 

But that’s what worked for the three of you and it was no one else’s business to interfere with your relationship. It was no one else’s business to know how comforting the arms of your lovers were when wrapped around your shoulders during movie night at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s shared apartment or how protective their hold on you was on a night out after an exhilarating performance on stage. How grounding their touch was after a draining day at work and coming home to see Yunho dancing around Mingi who was cooking your favourite dinner in your homely kitchen, soft music playing from the Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter, and nearly every candle in your house lit emitting a pleasant lavender smell that had your shoulders dropping from exhaustion and relief you were finally home.

Because that’s what they were to you – home. When your manager at work had a bad day which meant everyone had a bad day; or whenever phone calls to your parents would generally end up with you in tears and silence on the other end; or whenever your friends had a falling out and left you in the dust feeling lost and alone – Yunho and Mingi never failed to uplift your mood and let it known to you that you are their solace. 

Being best friends with Yunho and Mingi from middle school meant you had seen them in all their phases – from when Yunho was adamant he would become a professional video gamer to when Mingi would make mixtapes in his tiny bedroom, which only you and Yunho would be privy to. And finally, when they both found themselves pursuing a passionate love for music. 

This tight-knit friendship between you and the boys allowed you to see their hearts so clearly, which they wore on their sleeves, and it wasn’t hard to fall in love with them. It wasn’t long before you realised their soft smiles and the endearing look in their eyes when you caught their gaze meant they bared their hearts out to you with just as much ferocity as you did. 

Being in a relationship with the two soft giants didn’t feel different from being best friends - with the lovely addition of soft kisses and going to sleep feeling like you were wrapped in two weighted blankets. 

They showed you what love is – who love can create. 

When Yunho and Mingi decided to create a rock band alongside two childhood friends of yours’, Hongjoong, an amazing guitarist, and Jongho, who had the best set of vocals, you were unwavering in your support and encouragement. From playing in either Hongjoong or Mingi’s garage to playing sets in bars and smaller venues across town, you joined them in their wonderful endeavours and got to enjoy their music with a side of the beautiful sights of whichever town you were in. 

After their set, Yunho and Mingi would be visibly exhausted, sweat dripping down their faces, their legs barely dragging them backstage and towards the car, but they never failed to take you out for dinner after and then collapse into bed and sleep the night away. And when you woke the next morning to a cup of coffee and breakfast served for you, you grabbed whoever was closest and kissed them with such fervour, sometimes sight-seeing was traded for spending the day in bed with your lovely boys. 

Luckily, the venue the boys were playing at gave them an hour extra to play their songs which meant you had to stock up on food and drinks for the boys and yourself and make sure the hotel room after was ready because you knew you weren’t going to be taken out in the city after a long set on stage. 

With a bag of snacks and energy drinks from the convenience store in your hand, you walked backstage towards the dressing rooms where Yunho and Mingi were. 

Reaching inside the bag, you picked out Mingi’s favourite drink and stepped towards him to hand him his drink. When you looked up smiling, you noticed a somewhat troubled look on his face, his hand gripping his phone so tightly you could see them turning white. 

“Mingi…is everything okay?” You asked, concerned. 

“Hm?” Mingi looked up from his phone and noticed you and Yunho looking at him with odd expressions. He shook his head, “Everything’s fine love. I’m just nervous about playing,” he tried comforting you, though his face paled significantly. 

You nodded and handed him his drink telling him to drink up before sitting next to him. When you reached over to hold his hand, Mingi seemed to startle and immediately stood up before announcing he needed to go to the bathroom. 

You frowned. Mingi was acting strange…almost secretive. You hated casting any form of doubt on your boyfriends, but Mingi’s behaviour was certainly odd and it was rubbing you in the wrong way…

You turned to Yunho, about to ask him what was wrong with Mingi, when he turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile with a pensive look on his beautiful face, before rushing out of the room, supposedly following Mingi. Feeling somewhat helpless and incredibly confused, you looked around the room and found neither Hongjoong nor Jongho in sight to converse with, and fell back onto the couch. 

After a few minutes, the door opened and you sat up expectantly, hoping Mingi and Yunho would be back in, hopefully, good spirits…but in walked Hongjoong and Jongho. 

Seeing your shoulders slump with disappointment, Hongjoong came over to you on the couch and asked if you were okay. 

“What’s troubling you? Everything okay?” He asked.

Not wanting to put stress on a man who had to conserve his energy to play a large set, you turned to Hongjoong and gave him the best convincing smile you could muster and said, “I’m great! I’m just waiting for Mingi and Yunho to come back from the bathrooms.” 

Standing at the table of snacks and drinks, Jongho, in the middle of choosing a pre-show snack packet, turned to you with a tilt of his eyebrows and confusedly told you, “But Mingi and Yunho aren’t in the bathrooms. They’re outside the venue talking. They seem quite stressed so I don’t think they’ll be in here for a bit.” 

“Oh…thanks for telling me Jongho,” you gave a small smile, though from your tightened brows and quivering chin, the boys could tell you were worried. You rushed out of the building, turning your head in all directions to try and find your boyfriends.

Moving towards the back of the venue facing the carpark, you came across Mingi sitting on the curb, back facing you, yet you could tell from his hunched figure and shoulders shaking, that something was wrong. Yunho also came into view, large hands rubbing Mingi’s back and softly speaking to him.

You angled yourself so you could hear them, but they couldn’t see or hear you. You hated eavesdropping, but something was wrong with your boyfriend - maybe both of them - and they weren’t telling you.

You pushed aside the feeling of dread starting to pool in your stomach and forced your ears to pick up on their conversation.

Mingi’s voice was shaky and breathy, almost like he had been crying for a while, “I can’t do this anymore, Yunho. I can’t keep lying to her like this…”, he broke off, tears continuing to drip down his face.

Yunho sighed, “I know it hurts Mingi…But how would we even tell her about–” His voice was drowned out by some people on the other side of the street drunkenly singing. 

“It’s so hard to lie and keep up this happy facade with her Yunho. I just wished she stopped being such a burden and left us alone…” Mingi said wistfully. “It might hurt her but we have to tell her what’s going on…”, he sniffled. 

That feeling in your stomach iced your veins. Feeling your eyes start to burn with tears and your heart stop yet race at the same time, you refused to listen anymore. Thoughts racing, you turned to head back inside the venue to grab your things and leave.

Maybe in hindsight, you should’ve heard more of their conversation, or confronted them right then and there…but the feeling of pain and hurt in your heart was something you’d never felt before. 

Speed-walking back to the dressing rooms, you opened the doors and rushed in, startling Jongho and Hongjoong who were in opposite corners of the room, preparing for the show. 

After grabbing your bag and phone, you turned to the boys, who now looked at you with puzzled expressions, and gave them your share of good luck.

“Are you not gonna stay and watch the show,” Hongjoong asked confused. You always stayed to watch your boys rock the stage. Not once had you ever failed at showing your boys your unwavering support. 

“No sorry…something came up at work and they need me to do something but I can’t work here…sorry guys,” You replied, hoping they wouldn’t ask any more questions so you could get out of there. 

When there was a brief pause after your response, you turned and left the room, not even waiting for Jongho or Hongjoong to say something. When you got to the front doors, you noticed Mingi and Yunho on the other side about to walk in, and you hid behind the pillars in the lobby, praying they wouldn’t see you. 

As if your prayers were answered, they walked right past you. Not wanting to stay back and watch them any longer, you rushed out to your car and locked the doors. 

You sat there, numb. That feeling of dread and pain and hurt had morphed into something you couldn’t even describe. Cheating… that wasn’t something you had ever considered your boys doing…and the notion of them cheating made your heart pound, filled with doubt and your mind feel like a bag of rocks was weighing it down. 

You debated calling them to tell them you were going home because you knew they would immediately leave the show to console you…and you just needed some time to think clearly. So after sending a ‘good luck for your show!’ text to your guys’ group chat, you put the car in drive and made the painful journey back home…alone. 

When you got home and noticed the darkness of such a small space, your scattered brain hurt even more and it felt like the room got even smaller than it was. Your chest was constricting with anxiety and you felt like you couldn’t breathe – and in that moment, all you wanted – no needed – was for your boys to come home and hold you. 

But they weren’t there.

That ugly feeling of anxiety started to make you wonder if either of the boys had even noticed you were gone. If they had cared. If they were texting her whoever she was, or if she was there in the crowd watching them the way you were supposed to be doing. 

A part of you hated these thoughts – hated the way you rushed to label your loving, healthy relationship with the boys as ruined and call them cheaters when you probably didn’t know the whole story. That same part of you felt toxic…and made you think the boys deserved better than whatever you had going on.

With your brain driving thoughts in two directions, you feel physically and mentally exhausted. Crawling into bed, you wished for nothing but the past hour to have been a painful nightmare. And for the first time since you moved in with the boys, you slept all alone. 

Being asleep, you didn’t realise when Yunho and Mingi had raced home after their show, their bodies physically exhausted but that paling in comparison to how heavy their hearts hurt. When they noticed you had curled around their pillows in bed and were fast asleep with dried tears tracking down your face, their eyes felt wet and Mingi felt a sob rising at the back of his throat; you had cried yourself to sleep…and something they said or did was to blame. 

They patted your head and looked at each other, giving the other a silent nod and agreeing they should give you some space in bed; taking the couch for the night. 

When you woke the next morning, your eyes felt like someone had glued them shut and your mouth felt as dry as a desert due to all the crying last night. You contemplated going back to sleep in hopes of shutting out the world around you, but the slight smell of coffee and hearing something sizzling in the kitchen made you rise out of bed. 

Your heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time – your boys were back…which meant avoiding them about last night was out of the question. Never in your years of being friends, and eventually dating, had you ever seen them raise their voices in anger…but worried thoughts of an argument started floating around your head. 

When you walked out of your room, you noticed Mingi near the coffee machine and Yunho standing in front of the stove flipping what seemed to be (burnt) pancakes. They were both dressed in the same clothes they were why you left your apartment the day before and when you looked at the couch, the blankets and pillows were ruffled. Your heart clenched… had the boys been afraid to sleep in bed next to you? Was this the start of the end? Were you going to lose not only your boyfriends but your best friends? 

Hearing the floorboards creak under you, Yunho and Mingi shot their heads up to look at you. The looks in their eyes made you soften and tears spring to your eyes – they gazed at you with such longing and pain in their eyes. 

Mingi stepped towards you and you thought he would either kiss you or tell you to get out of his way, but he mumbled, “Yunho and I are gonna wash up. Please eat your breakfast my love…I think we need to talk.” With that, he and Yunho looked at you with determination in their eyes and leaned down to give you a small kiss on either side of your cheeks before heading towards the bathroom.

After managing to move your feet towards the kitchen, you forced yourself to eat and ignore your lack of appetite; you figured it wouldn’t be best to have a conversation on an empty stomach. 

When you were done, you sat on the couch and waited for the boys. You felt a sense of deja vu from the night before waiting on the couch for your the boys (you should start learning to not refer to them as yours anymore..huh?). When they came over, they sat close together on the loveseat in front of you. 

When you looked up, you noted Mingi’s were tinged red…like what would happen if someone cried themselves to sleep and continued in the morning. Your heart ached even more. Yunho grabbed Mingi’s shaking hands and looked at you with an undecipherable expression. 

Okay, you thought, let’s make this breakup an easy conversation . 

You decided to speak first, hoping that you could start amicably, “Sorry for not staying to watch the show…How was it?” Your voice was strained, but hopeful. 

Yunho gulped. “Baby…we know something is wrong. You left way before we even started playing and didn’t tell us…please…what’s wrong?” His shoulders notably sagged down. 

Jaw clenching to not let a sob escape, you looked down at your hands intertwined with each other and tried to catch your thoughts to respond, “I heard you.” That was all you could mutter. 

Both Mingi and Yunho seemed to be confused. What did you hear? 

When you took note of their confusion and silence, you continued, “Outside in the carpark. You said you don’t love me…that it hurt to lie to me and you wanted to stop lying.” By this point, you felt the saltiness of your tears enter your mouth but kept on going. “You said you weren’t h-happy with me anymore…and you think I’m a… b-burden. So please…be quick with it and just b-break up with me.” You tried to contain your sobs but the painful reminder of yesterday hurt too much for you to keep quiet. 

Sniffling, you forced your head up to look between the boys…only to feel puzzled about their expressions. They had matching looks of almost…relief (?) on their faces. What could they be so relieved about when you sat across from them, heart-shattering into the tiniest of pieces? 

Heart pounding and head feeling heavy once more, your mind seemed to cloud over in preparation for the next four words that would leave you devastated.

“Oh baby…we weren’t talking about you…” Yunho uttered, his tone sounding so vulnerable. 

Oh.

Oh.

What??

Time seemed to stop. It was so silent in your living room that you could hear your blood rushing through your body; hear your breathing slow down and feel your mind quiet instantaneously.  

They…weren’t talking about…you…they don’t think anything bad of you…they (might) still love you…

In the quiet void, Mingi’s quiet voice speaks out, “My love, can I please give you a hug?” 

When you slowly but surely nod yes, he leaps over to you and hugs you so hard you can feel your inside being squished together. But you ignore that feeling because it feels so good to finally be held by your boyfriend. 

“Wait Mingi, we still need to explain what happened…why we said what we said,” Yunho pulled Mingi back slightly, teary-eyed, and gave you an understanding look. “Please hear us out completely first, darling,” he seemed to beg. 

After you nodded in acceptance, Yunho turned to Mingi and seemed to urge him to speak. 

Mingi sniffled and took a deep breath, before admitting, “I don’t know if you remember back in high school, there was this girl…Yuna…and she would follow us everywhere? Do you remember?,” after receiving a hum of affirmation, he continued, “After school one day, she cornered me in our classroom and told me she liked me. And I just stood there and said nothing because…because I was in love with you and Yunho – I still am of course! – but she kept saying that I had to either choose between the two of you or pick her or she would tell my parents and I-I hadn’t told my parents about us at the time and I was so worried s-she would tell them and I didn’t know what to do so I just gave her my n-number and told her to please please keep quiet and–” Mingi spluttered before sobs racked from his throat and rendered him quiet. 

You felt a gush of tears prick your eyes once more and moved to sit next to him, rubbing his back along with Yunho. You said nothing to allow Mingi to get his bearings together but frowned as you thought of Yuna. Yuna – the girl that did follow you guys everywhere in high school and rejected your advances to be friends. You had never thought you had to worry about her because you always attributed her ‘affections’ as idolising her seniors at school and once you all graduated, she left your mind as quickly as you all left your hometown. 

After a while, Mingi took another deep breath and continued, “After we graduated and moved to the city, I completely forgot about her you know? And I thought we had become adults now so I didn’t have to worry about her anymore…but one day she started texting me and when I didn’t respond she moved to DMing me and she would send me messages of her…some explicit at first…some almost threatening harm but…to herself. She would ask me for money for dresses she wanted to buy and wear on our first date and kept telling me to break up with you guys because she said she wanted me all to herself…” He broke off, not quite sure how to end his recounting. 

Yunho then took over, “Mingi told me one day what was going on when his phone kept blowing up during practice. And after he told me and I sent a text from his phone telling her to leave him alone, she started sending me messages too…telling me to break up with you before she started talking to you.” He stopped to gauge your reaction, before adding, “We tried our best to ignore her and block her but she kept finding ways to message us…we’re sorry for not telling you, darling.” 

You felt…conflicted. Here your boys were telling you about a girl that was threatening to ruin everything you had built together for her selfish gain which gave them a reason for their words, as hurtful as you had perceived them, last night…but you didn’t understand why didn’t tell you.

And because you wanted an answer to put an end to your confusion, you simply asked them, “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought- I thought when you said all that stuff yesterday…I thought you wanted to break up with me…” you choked out before dissolving into tears.

Mingi wrapped his arms around you whilst uttering soft ‘no’s’ and shaking his head. Yunho felt the stress of not knowing why his girlfriend was so upset the night before leaving him, and he gathered you and Mingi in his arms before softly rocking you all back and forth. 

With both the your boys holding you and whispering sweet nothings in your ears, your wails reduced to soft hiccups. 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for believing either of you would…c-cheat,” you threw the word out like a bad omen. Almost immediately, Yunho and Mingi started shaking their heads in disagreement, “No my love, you don’t have to be sorry,” and “We’re sorry for not telling you darling.” 

“We noticed how stressed you’ve been recently from work and your family dumping all their issues on you and everything you’re friends have been dragging you through…we didn’t feel right making you feel insecure in our relationship by telling you about some girl we spent no seconds thinking about. Because this, of all things in our life,” Yunho said gesturing between him and Mingi, “This relationship with you is our constant. Our solace. Our home.”

“He’s right you know? Last night she kept texting me and I realised I couldn’t keep hiding the burden that was her from you anymore,” Mingi agreed.

You kept quiet and let their words sink in. Those ugly feelings started clearing from your heart and mind – your boys never wanted to leave you. This was all just a misunderstanding…

“Trust me when I say my love, beyond you and Yunho, there is no one else I want to fill my heart,” Mingi whispered before looking deep into your eyes for any hesitation, and when finding nothing but love and adoration, pressed his lips onto yours. 

Yunho watched the two loves of his life with the utmost love and fondness and then decided he, too, wanted a kiss from you. When you and Mingi pulled away for a breath of air, Yunho swept in and held the back of your head whilst he kissed you like you were all the oxygen in the world he was trying to breathe in. 

When he pulled away from you, you giggled – and the sight of your tussled hair, soft lips glistening and sparkling eyes sent waves of warmth and love through Mingi and Yunho.

“What do you say we skip whatever we each had planned today and just stay home? I think we could all do with some loving today huh?” You offered, hoping your boys would say yes.

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boys nodded their heads so fast you worried they would fall off. 

And so, that whole day went like this: you, Mingi, and Yunho spent all day intertwined on the couch watching rom-coms, with Mingi squished between the two of you. You reached over to kiss the small mole under Mingi’s eye and Yunho kissed the spot on his cheek whilst Mingi erupted in giggles that had your and Yunho’s hearts soaring. Hands enclosed in one anothers’, the three of you fell asleep, each vowing to never stray far from one another – not now and certainly not in any other lifetime.

[meomoicecr]

Some Thoughts on the Cyclum...

This is a Wilson/Maxwell ship post, aiming to compile some character and relationship analyses I’ve written on Weibo. Well... Most of it is based on in-game lore and quotes, so I’ll probably organize and post it all here gradually!

First, let’s talk about the dynamic shift in their power balance. When I first got into the fandom and was randomly scrolling through posts, I stumbled upon a blogger’s comparison between another ship I’d previously liked and Wilson/Maxwell (okay that's kylux in SW ). They mentioned that while the former pair went from equals to an unequal relationship, whereas Wilson/Maxwell features two inherently unequal individuals whom Wilson single-handedly dragged into equality. This "equality" wasn’t achieved through Wilson rising to Maxwell’s level in Adventure Mode, but rather through the fact that when Maxwell returned to the Constant as a mortal, Wilson—who already had a camp and resources at that point—could have chosen to become the dominant party, yet deliberately didn’t. Instead, he placed Maxwell on equal footing with himself.

Most relationships like this end up with a reversal of roles—the former superior becomes the inferior, and vice versa, cycling endlessly. Even Maxwell himself, upon entering Wilson’s camp, initially assumed a submissive position, almost resigning himself to Wilson’s whims (after all, he’d just been pinned down and beaten up. By the time Wilson finished adding fuel to the fire and turned around, Maxwell was still standing there. Normally, even animals would flee after being hit once, let alone when facing someone you’ve deeply wronged. Logically, Maxwell could’ve expected further beatings—or even being killed—after the fire was stoked. Yet when Wilson turned back, Maxwell just stood there, accepting whatever action Wilson might take against him).

Later, when the two of them sat silently facing each other by the campfire, Maxwell kept shrinking into himself with his head bowed. It was Wilson who broke the ice first—passing him a meat skewer and starting the conversation—otherwise Maxwell would have remained completely still and silent.

Objectively speaking, Maxwell was just a weak destitute old drifter at this point, while all the camp's supplies—food, drink, everything—belonged to Wilson. By all rights, Wilson had every justification to treat Maxwell however he pleased. Yet he chose not to seek revenge or relegate him to an inferior position, instead consciously treating him as an equal. That’s truly remarkable… To put it simply: "After defeating you, I could have chosen to dominate you—but instead, I chose to pull you up to stand beside me as an equal." That’s why Maxwell could afford to be so unrestrained around Wilson. (Compare this to Charlie, who openly resents and blames him—around her, Maxwell is visibly guilty, ashamed, and even submissive to the point of resignation… Though, of course, Charlie is also exceptionally special to him.)

Maxwell has always been the type to gauge people’s moods and adapt accordingly. Around Charlie, his vulnerability and passivity are laid bare. Around the other survivors—who have mostly accepted him but still regard him with some wariness and distrust (and who never saw his throne-side persona)—he instinctively slips back into acting like his Adventure Mode self or the "big bad villain" they expect him to be. This distinction is quite obvious: some of his in-game quotes clearly sound like performative, exaggerated versions of his old "evil mastermind" persona (the kind he’d put on when others are around), while others carry a deeply depressive, self-loathing tone (likely muttered to himself when alone).

That said, he does make an effort to be more polite and measured around the group. He tolerates teasing without snapping back (which, given his ego, is downright pitiful) and grumbles through chores but does them anyway. But with Wilson—who has witnessed both his most vicious, terrifying side and his most pitiful, vulnerable moments, yet chooses to let bygones be bygones, indulges him, and keeps roughhousing with him as usual—well… "Let Wilson do it." Spoiled Maxwell to the max. It's the epitome of a cat becoming utterly comfortable after being thoroughly domesticated. You could say Maxwell's ability to banter with Wilson, tease him, even complain about him—it's all Wilson's doing, a product of his pampering. But precisely because of this, Maxwell can interact with him without any reservations.

(There's another particularly adorable detail—Wilson and Webber are the only two who never actually bring up Maxwell's past misdeeds. That's also worth analyzing, maybe in the next post?!)

Second, although the Cyclum is primarily explored from Maxwell's perspective, Wilson's reactions also reveal a lot about his attitude toward [seeing Maxwell alive again after believing him dead].

First, there’s the way he throws aside his axe and resorts to fists—almost like, "I may still resent you, but I won’t kill you. A beating will suffice." Then there’s the infamous moment (though it’s been analyzed to death, it’s just too good to ignore) where Wilson eats a plain carrot while giving Maxwell the meat skewer.  Here’s this man, rationing himself to basic veggies, yet offering real sustenance to the very person who ruined his life—now a ragged, starving shadow of his former self. It's his way of silently communicating: "I'm willing to take you in for now, and I'll provide for you too." No words needed, yet the message couldn't be clearer.

And then there’s Wilson’s choice of conversation starter to break the awkward silence: the fact that he thought Maxwell was dead.

Honestly, Wilson’s choice of topic is profoundly telling. What exactly was Maxwell to him at this point?

The liar who tricked him into this wilderness. The enemy who killed him repeatedly, only to reappear and mock him. The demon who rendered all his struggles and attempts futile. The man who taunted him with visions of gruesome deaths and throne-bound despair—yet now stood before him, alive again.

And yet, Wilson’s first words carried no accusations. No recriminations for how Maxwell had deceived or tormented him. Instead, he opened with a meat skewer—a silent peace offering—and then chose to say: "I thought you were dead."

This topic is truly ingenious—perhaps even the only one that wouldn't make Maxwell feel awkward or guilty, while still prompting him to voluntarily speak up and explain himself, thereby breaking their stalemate. Especially for someone like Wilson—a logically-minded individual prone to getting lost in his own thoughts—to have come up with this particular subject is nothing short of remarkably considerate, emotionally intelligent, and even awe-inspiring in his mental fortitude to set aside their past grievances so quickly and consider things from the other's perspective… Upon closer reflection, this is exquisitely satisfying—Wilson is truly exceptional, genuinely making earnest efforts to guide Maxwell toward opening up and interacting with him naturally. And if we take another perspective—considering how Maxwell's horrific, ash-scattering death must have deeply impacted Wilson—it's equally delicious… More than anything else, what matters is your death. I have so many questions I want to demand answers for, so many explanations I need from you—but you were dead. From that moment on, this became the first thing I wanted to ask."

At this point I want to discuss how Maxwell's death on the throne affected Wilson. First, Wilson's emotions when finally reaching the throne room must have been incredibly complex… Players can easily empathize with Wilson's perspective - after dying countless times, suffering repeated failures, and struggling desperately to push forward, all driven by the need for some kind of resolution. Whether it was finding a way home or beating up the old man responsible, he needed closure. But when he finally faced Maxwell, all he saw was a ragged, emaciated old man chained and tortured. No way home, no possibility of beating up this pitiful old man - for this version of Maxwell, even death would be a release.

No matter what bizarre method Wilson tried to kill Maxwell, it would fail. Maxwell would say it's useless, he's tried them all - he'd attempted every possible strange method to die, that's how desperately he wanted it. And at this point Wilson finally realizes they're both just pawns being played with, both victims… But for Wilson who had persevered with such conviction, this outcome was truly unacceptable.

I think Maxwell probably didn't know what would happen when Wilson inserted the detector - otherwise he wouldn't have initially smiled upon being freed before looking in horror as his body disintegrated… For Maxwell, death was probably just an instant thing, a form of release. And since he returned to the Constant afterward, he likely didn't dwell much on his own death.

But for Wilson who witnessed Maxwell die before his eyes, it was completely different. Before choosing compassion, he must have wrestled with it internally. But the moment he inserted the detector, Maxwell disintegrated before him, dying in that horrifying manner… Single-player gamers will understand the profoundly lonely, desolate atmosphere of the Don't Starve. Before this, even though Maxwell was the one who'd trapped him in this situation, he was still the only person Wilson could talk to in this world. And now this sole person he could communicate with had died because of his compassion. In his shock, thoughts like "does this mean I killed him?" might have flashed through Wilson's mind - only to be pulled onto the throne himself the next second… It's truly despair-inducing. Even after returning to the Constant, that scene would keep replaying in his mind. So when he eventually encountered Maxwell again - discovering he wasn't dead after all, but instead hiding pathetically in the bushes spying on his camp - while annoyed and exasperated, he must have also felt some relief... Well, nothing to do but beat him up and then give him a meat skewer, I guess. (But much later, when seeing Maxwell near death again, that image of him turning to ash would inevitably resurface, which must have been quite traumatic for Wilson.)

Yet the immediate consequence of Wilson's momentary indulgence was this cat immediately getting bold enough to snatch Wilson's blueprints to look at (I can't even - gonna save this for the next post lol).

Alright, but finally I still want to marvel at how Wilson could pin Maxwell to the ground with one hand while still turning back to tend the fire - Maxwell is just so physically weak, completely incapable of resisting! The Cyclum similarly shows Maxwell's survival skills in his own created world exist only in theory… In practice he just ends up fleeing in disgrace, with his natural sanity restoration still nearly getting him killed by shadow creatures while Wilson had already built a small base by then.

When Wilson and Maxwell play together online, it's kinda like the server's top player (the guy who first cleared Adventure Mode empty-handed) carrying the game's designer who doesn't actually play games… just look at Wilson's situation when he first entered the Constant! Alone with no help or rescue, struggling to survive in the wilderness where everything had to be learned through personal experience, each lesson paid for with multiple deaths. Meanwhile Maxwell immediately meets Wilson upon arrival - gets taken in, receives food, shelter, company, someone to bicker with and teach him how to survive. It's like being a newbie who gets carried by a pro from the start, avoiding so much suffering (.) Can't be helped since Maxwell is the type of creature who'd cut his hand picking up a flint - can't really expect him to actually survive. Viewing their relationship as a human keeping a cat explains everything perfectly.

Finally, I want to say—the equality between Wilson and Maxwell is the best kind. And usually, it's Wilson who drags the high-and-mighty old man down, then turns around and offers him respect and compassion, achieving a mutual ease and lack of restraint between them... Wilson has his overly rational side, his cruel side, his indifferent side, his empathy-deficient side. Yet when facing Maxwell—his defeated rival, the mastermind behind it all—he chose compassion twice, treating him with his most human side. At the very least, to Maxwell, Wilson is a true gentleman.

[perotovar]

i binge-watched s2 of tlou yesterday in the hopes of coming away with a more positive outcome...

i've been a fan of these games for years, going on 10 now. i've played each of them like 5/6 times, they're some of my favorites. i've been an active participant in this fandom for many years, read reddit thread after reddit thread and analysis after analysis. this is how i joined this fandom. i was watching the game awards with a friend in 2022 before s1 premiered and bella and pedro went out on stage with ashley and troy and i was like "oh, they all seem excited, this is a good sign".

what i'm saying is, i was going to watch this show if it was good or bad because i've been in love with the source material for so long.

i know, another game fan complaining about s2. but i like to think i'm a little different than a lot of game fans (for a number of reasons....... those people SUCK) because i actually welcomed and really enjoy bella and pedro's performances. in fact, i prefer pedro's joel over troy's, which is like blasphemy to those people. this is also why i'm even a part of the pedro fandom at all.

however, i think something changed from how fucking good s1 was to what we got in s2. in the hopes of not making this post terribly long, i'll try to narrow down why i thought s2 was just "fine".

1. craig mazin fundamentally misunderstands ellie as a character.

ellie's entire arc in pt 2 is about her grief over losing joel. she's lost everyone she ever loved and this is like, the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.

there's a huge shift in ellie's personality from game 1 to 2. her voice is monotone and devoid of a lot of the childlike silliness and wonder. even before joel dies this is the case because she feels betrayed by him for lying to her.

the problem i have with season 2 is that ellie still feels like she's 14 because that's how craig mazin sees her. he sees ellie as a child and even refers to her relationship with dina as "parent/child" which is fucking WEIRD. he sees her as someone that's incapable of intelligent thought.

ellie is reckless, that's true. but i never once questioned ellie's abilities in this world that she's been raised in. she spends a lot of pt2 alone because of dina's pregnancy and she handles herself exceptionally well. season 2 ellie makes me feel like she needs someone holding her hand the whole time and that's disappointing as fuck.

2. the studio had too much influence and it fucked up the tone.

this part of the story is supposed to feel different to the first game. "why do you want the depressing tone to stay?" because i thought that writing was great? because i think the show-only fans are getting an inferior experience than the one that i got.

changing an interactive experience to a passive one is hard, and i know that was always going to feel different, but they managed it in season 1! they did that so fucking well. it's some of the best tv in recent memory imo.

i don't even want a 1:1 recreation of the game, because i want to explore this world as much as i can. i can just turn the games on if i wanted that, but i'm only going to get bill and frank's story if i turn on that episode.

cutting this season down to 7 episodes takes away a lot of the meat of the story for pt2. the studio obviously didn't want to spend the money on the resources it needed to make a lot of what makes this story compelling actually work. but they had no problem wasting a fuckton of money on giant sets that didn't even get used/seen, because idk.... why not? idk, i'm annoyed.

they hit the main story beats and went "that's enough, right?" also despite wanting them to explore more, it's a problem when the best parts of the season are the 1:1 recreations.

final thoughts:

pedro, bella, and the rest of the cast do an amazing job in s2. despite the questionable writing/dialogue, there are some standout moments.

but overall i don't feel nearly as excited as i did with s1. i don't like being led by the hand in order for someone to tell me a story.

it's fine and that's... not good, imo.

i'm gonna go replay pt2 as a cleanse.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

.. However, Boya felt that he still wasn’t a real guqin virtuoso and could not bring to the perfection of guqin performance and use it to freely express his feelings. Knowing about his thoughts, Boya’s teacher brought him on a boat to Island Penglai in the East Sea, leaving him to appreciate the natural view and listen to the sounds of the waves. .. A strange and wonderful feeling emerged, and Boya found myriads of harmonious and melodious music from the nature swirling in his mind. He took out his guqin and began to play, blending the beauty of nature into his music. Boya experienced an unprecedented inner feeling. His teacher told him, “Now you got it. You have mastered the real virtuosity of the instrument by learning from nature.” .. When Boya was playing by the water one day, he told his attendant, “As I’m playing the qin today, the sounds are exceptionally clear. I believe someone is listening. Find that person please.” The attendant quickly brought a woodcutter. Full of enthusiasm, Boya played the musical instrument for him. When Boya played a piece conveying the magnificence of high mountains, the woodcutter exclaimed: “Wonderful! Sounds of towering peaks… magnificent and dignified, like Mount Tai!” Boya then played a piece depicting the vigor of rushing water, the woodcutter responded, “Wonderful! Vast and mighty… like great rivers and boundless oceans!” Overwhelmed with joy, Boya said, “Intimate friend! You are really my intimate friend!” That woodcutter was Zhong Ziqi. —Dr. Lunlun Zhou after Lü Buwei 吕不韦 (300-235 A.D.), excerpt from 'From the Ancient Melody “High Mountains and Flowing Water” to the Development of Guzheng and Artistic Realm of the Harmony Between Heaven and Man', emphasis and small change to Boya's name mine

A note on the translation under the cut:

Those who are familiar with my gifs know that when I include subtitles with the scenes, I prefer to keep many of the original Chinese terms in place of a translated version. This requires more cultural and linguistic study on my part as well as on those's who will get to see the gifs, but it also ensures a more complete picture of the source material, as translation is always also a transformation.

In the same vein, I wanted to try and recapture the clever layering that is taking place in this scene, and that is unfortunately getting lost when you are only drawing from the translated subtitles. I have relied on a handful of references to hopefully respectfully portray the cultural context and literary metaphors. In my opinion is this one of the key scenes of the show, not only in respect to Wenzhou's relationship and the way they lay some of their soft sides bare to each other, but also in regards to their character journeys. It elegantly combines casual landscape watching with an important talk about the future and an underlying dialogue about hopes and dreams, as well as recealls the conflict of their personal circumstances. This scene essentially foreshadows what lies ahead, and I wanted to see if I could portray it somehow in a single gifset.

Due to this goal, I have taken some measure of artistic liberty when retranslating. Specifically, the idioms of zhiyin and zhiji that I have added in the background text as poetic additions are not meant to be taken as an alternative, more literal translation to those same idioms reappearing in the dialogue, but rather a more lyrical transfer of concepts that works complimentary to it. I wanted to offer a poetic version that would also speak to those other layers of the scene, without overshadowing it.

"High mountains and flowing water. Soulmates/zhiyin like that are hard to find," was retranslated to "The beautiful landscapes are vast. The few who understand your music are hard to find."

"The world itself is not important. What's important is meeting your soulmate/zhiji," was retranslated to "The beautiful landscapes are not important. What's important is to meet someone who truly understands you."

All mistakes are my own. Please refer to the list down below for the sources and translations I relied on. Well-meant corrections in case I terribly fucked up in my pursuit of artistic expression are always welcome!

List of references:

"方才成就了一段高山流水的佳话 / It just became a conversation about high mountains and flowing water": Google Translate, The Chinese metaphor of High Mountains, Flowing Water from 'From the Ancient Melody “High Mountains and Flowing Water” to the Development of Guzheng and Artistic Realm of the Harmony Between Heaven and Man' on guzhengmaster

"高山流水，知音难觅 / High mountains and flowing water. Soulmates like that are hard to find": Viki Rakuten ENG subs by the Honorable Team with a small change by me to respectfully keep with the theme; "High mountains and flowing water" as in the original, rather than "Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi", which was what the Viki team settled on to bridge the cultural gap.

"高山流水，知音难觅 / The beautiful landscapes are vast. The few who understand your music are hard to find": What does 高山流水，知音难觅 mean? on the HiNative forum, The meaning of the term Zhiyin from ‘The Legend of Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi’ on the Hubei China Archive

"山河不足重，重在��知己 / The beautiful landscapes are not important. What‘s important is to meet someone who truly understands you": What does 山河不足重，重在遇知己 mean? on the HiNative forum, The meaning of the term Zhiji by @hunxi-guilai

The complete subtitles, with these few noted exceptions, are taken from the ENG TL by Viki Rakuten's Honorable Team.

Please also note that I have left out a significant part of Boya's and Ziqi's tale, as the post was getting too long and I wanted to keep the focus on the main event. But I highly recommend checking out the full version if you haven't already!

[crimsoncold]

What is pol!Jon?

It a short form tag that stands for political jon. Essentially an explanation theorized and popularized by a number of people in asoiaf/game of thrones fandom in an attempt to explain some of the very questionable if not outright out of character choices that writer's made on game of thrones for Jon Snow in the later seasons concerning his entire storyline since encountering Daenerys.

Essentially its a theory that stands by the idea that the only way Jon's action and choices could make sense were if Jon's interactions with Daenerys and her allies were not of a genuine nature (i.e. he had no genuine loyalty, affection, love, or trust in her or her advisors/army) but rather everything he was doing and saying amounted to him "playing" the game and doing whatever was necessary to gain her help (i.e. her army and dragons) in the war against the dead, but also to keep his family members and subjects safe from Dany's wrath once he brought her north, and potentially even to maneuver/keep himself in a position where he would be close enough to take Daenerys out all together should it prove necessary to eliminate someone who had proved to be an obvious threat (i.e. before she could cause mass murder and destruction via her dragons, or attempt to greviously harm Jon himself or his "siblings"- the latter at least Jon was successful with)

Essentially it holds to the idea that Jon would have had to have clocked Daenerys as a temporarily necessary "evil" but ultimately also a likely a very dangerous person who would have to be carefully managed to keep her on track and from outright imploding and he then acted (i.e. lied) accordingly (honestly not exactly unlike how her own advisors tended to treat her... as someone useful and powerful who they hoped to influence/guide to some desired outcome/ruler while also having to offset her ever present dangerous desire to take the easy road- i.e. screw the consequences wipe out any and all of her "enemies" with dragon fire).

This theory was meant to offer a more sensible and in character explanation for him bending the knee, becoming her lover, him acting as if he believed she really was a good queen or a ruler any different than the several other violent destructive and/or fire-obsessed ones that came before her.

One that wouldn't require the audience to accept that Jon had just suddenly and without explanation had a personality transplant, becoming incredibly foolishly trusting, a exceptionally bad judge of character, and willing to follow and submit to someone who was not just personally disrespectful to him and his family but who also burned countless people alive, is intending to invade westeros, forcefully take independence away from the north, while also directly threatening Jon's own beloved family.

Support for the idea that Jon would never sincerely trust or feel affection for Dany comes from various things such as...

1. The general lack of any affection/passion/happiness being displayed by Jon when interacting with Daenerys. That feels like a very intentional and suspect choice that is unlikely to have solely been the decision of Kit Harrington or simply due to a general lack of chemistry between him and Emilia Clarke. (Storytelling is more than just the performers... other people on set had to have been involved in creating even the possibility of this political Jon narrative)

Just compare scenes of Jon with any number of characters (his Stark siblings- Sansa in particular, Sam or any of his other nightswatch friends, Tormund or even Ygritte) and it seems obvious to conclude that his interactions with Dany lack true happiness/comradery/affection.

2. How many scenes between characters were being framed in the show.. a number of which seemed to point the audience towards the conclusion that something is quite suspect with this whole dynamic between Dany and her Northern and other Westeros Allies.

Serving to foreshadow Dany as an ultimate aggressor and villain for these characters but also currently establishing a noticeable tension- both a jealousy and a sense of isolation...a lack of belonging or trust between Dany and these characters- all of which hints to the idea that Jon was always loyal to the Starks and The North while Daenerys always remained an unaccepted and untrusted outsider, someone that Jon would attempt to placate and manage but never actually endeavored to truly welcome, include, or help integrate into his family or his people (which one may typically expect a man would do for a foreigner lover that he had brought to an unfamiliar place and people to introduce her to his family, his home, his friends, his culture, and his homeland ... that is if said man were actually in love with this woman or had a even a modicum of affection for her).

For evidence see almost any scene with Jon + Sansa + Dany, Dany + Sansa, Dany + the Northerners, Jon + Greyworm.

3. Jon's book or (perhaps to a lesser degree) his established show canon personalities and familial background.

Him having been established as more intelligent and strategic than how he appeared in the later seasons, his protectiveness and nobility, him being at times ruthless, his willingness to compromise his honor when it's necessary for his own life/saftey or that of others... all of which would correspond better to a pol!jon theory than to the idea that he so quickly and inexplicably fell truly in love with, became loyal to, and strangely willingly so passive to a person like Dany.

His previous history and interactions with other villainous characters who choose to use fire for human sacrifice/execution not unlike the way Daenerys does repeatedly (think Stannis or Melisandre, he didn't like them, found their actions abhorrent, he actively worked to oppose them when he could/when it was the right thing to do),

The general history between House Targaryen and Stark (Lyanna's assumed abduction and rape by the brother Dany admires, and the horrific and brutal killing of his Grandfather and Uncle by Dany's King Father, the resulting uprising that Jon's beloved late "father" took part in to overthrow said king) which by itself is enough reason for him not to readily trust any Targaryen

That's all without even looking at Dany's own personal actions that indicate she, much like other various terrible Targ rulers/ancestors is also an incredibly dangerous individual (one unwilling to look to and learn from the past, to unlearn the sense of targaryen superiority she was raised with, or accept the reality of her family members/ancestors, a conqueror who strength lies in her military might and her willingness to kill en masse via dragon fire rather than in an interest in say labouring to earn the loyalty and acceptance of westeros, in handling the details and minutiae of ruling, or striving towards improving her general political acuity).

Lastly because his willingness and ability to infiltrate, manipulate, lie to, and otherwise feign going along with until the time is right to "strike" (while still not actually abandoning his original duty or loyalty) to the people who qualify as an enemey has already been established (including ones he- reluctantly or under coercion- engages with in a romantic or sexual relationship) through his dealings with Ygritte and the other Free Folk.

Essentially fans were unimpressed with the choices and explanations from the writers/showrunners and were trying to come up with their own more reasonable explanation for Jon's later storyline (beyond the simple fact that the show's writing quality in general had suffered in the later seasons, and that the writer's seemed to forget that several houses - including the starks you know the unofficial heart of the story- were significant and that GOT wasn't ever supposed to be the Dany & DRAGONS!!!! Show ft. everyone else) which cumulated in this jon as a political actor (i.e. a strategic manipulator who is working on the behalf of the collective good of the north, or really humanity itself) theory.

So considering all these facts (plus undoubtedly some I couldn't recall simply off the top of my head) a number of fans saw that a reasonable or even somewhat satisfying explanation for Jon's later season's arc/storyline had to be pol!jon... though people may vary on how canon they think this theory is.

Some may think it does make considerable sense and accept it as headcanon but not believe it was an intentional decision by the writers- thus it's something that is applicable in fandom spaces but is not actually a canon theory.

Others believe pol!jon was a storyline that was actually originally planned out and initiated by the writers but was one that would ultimately fall off and never be properly or explicitly addressed in the show itself- or even acknowledged behind the scenes.

Explanations for this generally are various (unconfirmed and speculative) theories that it was scrapped because the show had second thoughts because....

a) Perhaps the show wasn't interested in or able to devote enough time to properly focus on Jon's character arc in the last leg of the show (not at all unlike the treatment of several other major characters), so this storyline wasn't explicity kept up

b) Maybe because they wanted to make Dany's downfall some supposed huge exciting twist for the audience and thus could no longer have an established heroic and generally liked character explicity be shown as as treating Dany as a villain so far in advance from her downfall as it could raise questions on Dany's ultimate role in the series potentially ruining their oh so amazing twist,

C) More cynically speaking it could have been from a desire to avoid any early on backlash from the large, very invested, and profitable, dany-stan/targ centric/jonerys part of fandom who were banking on a "happy" ending with Dany successfully taking power, being accepted in westeros (and the north with Jon as her consort), making for a glorious return of the dragons and a full targ restoration in Westeros with good queen Dany who would be beloved by all (regardless of the atrocities she enacts with her wmd on those she deems her enemies or any potential Nephews whose claim to the IT would supersede hers).

Having an explict pol!jon story being properly built up over the later seasons would certainly make it harder to sell that fantasy for the die hard dany/targ fans and could have meant viewship would have suffered...(i.e. there would be enough potential backlash coming from the finale what with Dany's down fall and Jon's role in her death... why risk having any prematurely which could effect earlier ratings/reviews/viewership/etc. when instead they could scrap what remained of that storyline and keep targs stans and targ favoring HBO staff happy for a little while longer)

... or

D) perhaps pol!jon was a halfheartedly planned out and clumsily executed storyline that would become abandoned as an extension of the writer's getting cold feet around the idea of a Jonsa romantic pairing (this may seem a stretch but I find there are some compelling arguments that the show may have been in the know of a book!jonsa endgame and even considered having a show!jonsa endgame only to abandon what they deemed too unpopular a pairing.

Pol!jon is something that would have enhanced the Jonsa undertones that remained present in the show .... i.e. such a theory could amplify the canon strange tension/jealousy exhibited between the three characters as well as the canon aspect of Dany being a threat to Sansa's safety being brought up several times ultimately adding further motivation for Jon to assassinate Dany... all of which would have then been paired with the explicit fact that Jon never felt actual loyalty or love for Dany if the show had confirmed pol!jon... this might have leaned too hard in the direction of jon and sansa as a potential romantic couple an idea that the show was not exactly fully committed to exploring or implying