So last night was the GLAAD Media Awards ceremony, and it has come to light that the winner of the award for Outstanding Comedy Series was...Ted Lasso.
Now, I know next to nothing about Ted Lasso, but from what I have heard about it, there is no part of me that would hear "Ted Lasso" and automatically think of it as a queer show...
And when I look at this list of nominees, I see at least three other shows that would have been excellent winners--especially Good Omens 2 and OFMD, both of which are arguably overtly, loudly queer (albeit in entirely different ways).
Both contained extraordinary performances from their lead actors. Both showed us relationships that we came to care so deeply about and feel represented by, which is particularly notable by the lack of representation that has traditionally existed for those relationships. And both have forever changed the lives of their cast members, who seem to have found themselves in ways they never expected as a result of being in these shows.
So I'm going to need someone to throw out some citations/references or just explain to me like I'm 5 why TL won this award over everything else, because the math is very not mathing here...
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Ah gotcha this makes a lot more sense if they were donated I just assumed archiving scripts at the library was standard procedure or something. You've successfully convinced me these aren't the shooting scripts however I still feel like these are later versions, they feel consistent with the episode 1 script plus they have deleted scenes we know were filmed. And I totally agree with you re Alicole, I was just saying it's not an invalid reading when it comes to the show but I agree that people shouldn't use the scripts to support that reading. Also in your original post you said Aegon and Alicent carriage scene was very different in the script could you elaborate more on that please, I was gonna ask before but I forgot lol.
yeah i don't understand the full process but i know they get a lot of their scripts via donation, you can read more about the library on their website, it's a really interesting place! i'm planning on visiting my friend in california at some point and trust we will be in that library for hours <3 i think some scripts were later drafts than others, it depends on what color script the library has for certain episodes. and it's true that some of the deleted scenes were filmed, but idk if that means all of them were so !! who knows !!
re alicole again, i agree that there can be a romantic reading of it from the show, but it's just frustrating for people to say it's absolutely canon based solely on the scripts, so that's what was annoying me
re the carriage scene, this is the original script for that moment:
the lines are obviously the same, but the way the scene reads is completely different, specifically with that last line. i think this script was more in line with an earlier version of alicent they wrote, one that would laugh at criston calling rhaenyra a cunt. but obviously they went in a softer direction with her, whether that was due to olivia or just rewrites adding more depth to her character who can say. but i also know that aegon asking if alicent loves him was improvised by sara hess on set (so that's an example of them probably not rewriting the script and just talking out what the characters would do while filming). it's just interesting to see the changes between the way the scene was initially written and the way it plays out in the show. ofc alicent in that scene is not 'annoyed by her son's softness' but i wouldn't put it past certain individuals to see this line in the script and just immediately assume that's what she's feeling lmao
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Aeri can’t decide what she hates more - the way the bejeweled pin in the victor from District 8’s hair is lopsided, or the girl herself. Oh, what Aeri wouldn’t give to wear such an accessory again, or even wear the finery the victor has been gifted to wear to the viewing. That was her once, wasn’t it?
But now? She’s stuck here, watching this spectacle. The brat, who has no idea what privilege she’s been presented with, keeps on creasing the delicate threads of her gown and her stylists also clearly have no idea on how to do the brat’s makeup. And then there’s that damn pin- Aeri’s pin once upon a time- only in place because it’s tangled in there-
And Aeri can’t hold back. When the brat’s stylists are gone, she reaches into the girl’s hair and extracts the pin. Her fingers, callused from years of hard labor that still feels foreign to Aeri, are quick to untangle most of the obvious knots in the brat’s hair before shetwists the locks into a ponytail and then a bun. The pin goes back in.
Aeri glares at the girl through the mirror. Don’t you dare mess up my work.
( congrats lenlen!! you get....aeri, being really resentful, i hope marìa doesn't mind too much ^^' )
@stillresolved | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET HER BE RESENTFUL
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There's a harshness to being dolled up when you are in no way receptive to it.
María isn't foreign to the roughness of life - she's a fucking Victor, after all, isn't she - she's started working in factories just about around the age even the most moral of District 8 people might turn their back in fear on seeing her walk in, pretending not seeing her would free them of the responsibility of working with a child.
Her hands and nose and palate and lungs had long gotten used and keep getting used to the aftermath of working with chemicals, of being so very intimate with garments and colours, with fumes and heat, with the hard work of surviving, with the hard work of fighting to be allowed a minimal chance at said survival, at figuring that there's little more for people from District 8 to fight for.
Still... it's not the same.
Being pushed around, dressed in things she would have never chosen for herself to serve a people, a man, because she's not stupid enough to not be able to tell what is Capitol and what is Snow and how Capitol is Snow, it's a kind of biting and harsh and rough that doesn't leave behind the usual kind of scars and memories and bruises.
Even surviving the Games had come with a desperately accepted sense of relief, one covered in blood and the humiliation of all she'd done and all she'd thought she'd get to accomplish, only for reality to crash in on her in a victory she hadn't wanted to partake in, hadn't wanted to make possible, when she'd wanted her Games to be victor-less in lieu of ending the Games themselves.
This... this is humiliation in the long run. This has hardly any hope attached to it, waiting for her on the other end of the line. Sometimes, on the worst days, it feels like the true brunt of the battle, walking with blood-stained soles and palms and sparkling as she does, wearing all that might make even the softest source of light appear like flames reflecting off her frame, covering her in fire that had not eaten her alive - much to a few people's disdain.
Picking at things, not holding still, grimacing, shifting her muscles, arms, face to make her stylists' life as difficult as possible, it was all she had to fight back.
The Arena came with death and violence, and living back at home had been physical labour upon physical labour, straining her young body until she could no longer tell if she was broken beyond repair or fitter than children her age should be - had they grown up privileged within the Capitol's safety.
Here she has only threads to tear apart and reflections to glare at.
And a new challenge behind every door.
She feels yanked back, an intensity of motion caused less by the avox suddenly in her hair and more her own stiffness that hadn't prepared her for submission to someone suddenly rearranging her.
After her stylists had left, she'd succumbed to the tension of not wanting to be there, without the added hard work of making sure everybody else does. Lost in her thought, somebody's hands suddenly returning on her had fortified, molten it into a newly forged blade, stiff and ready to strike, tensing everything within her and making a few fingers in her hair turn into a grappling hook tied to a moving mountain.
María is startled enough she can't remember how to glare.
A frown does accompany her widened eyes anyway, making her look... appalled, almost, an addition to her expression so unsuited to typically frightened features, youth tainted by the face of someone used to having to fight to stay alive.
It almost happens in a flash then. The reflection moves and adjusts and fixes and what had started as something that had María's lips split into something acid and trembling, turns into something unpleasant and acrid, but silent, as María sits and lets herself be mandhandled one more time.
That's when she glares. After the avox finishes up, after their eyes meet in the mirror and María sees none of the downturned gazes they're trying to make her accustomed to.
Seeing avoxes pisses her off.
Why take it out on them.
She understands what they are, what they're supposed to represent.
To her, an avox is a statement. No longer a person but rather someone rid of their innate right to be considered one. Even with the determination and life in this avox' eyes, María has come to understand them as tools Snow uses to assert his dominance, people from all circles of life, punished with the robbing of their words... and their detached tongue metaphorically forced to lick away at the tip of the shoes of people like María.
All a scheme.
Infighting.
Use the prey on the prey, make them take each other out.
It'd be easier to feel pity if María could sleep, if the avox hadn't adjusted her appearance, and if the avox wasn't staring her down as if she had any right to do so.
She's oddly beautiful.
She's oddly familiar.
"Why are you helping them?" she hisses, low, whispered, because she might never admit it, but she's... she's a little scared, isn't she? Lately? Devora's face swims before her inner eye, so stern, so wrong.
"I'm on your side more than they are," she adds, pulling a strand of her hair out of the freshly adjusted bun.
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