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#I have multiple Ted ships

ohbabydollie · 2 months

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omg so i’m new here but i currently have brainrot for 2 things

1) being a famous celebrity (sortaaaa like the famous streamer one but more famous) where ur like, an actress or model, things like that. and having a semi-public relationship with schlatt where you’ll be spotted holding hands on occasion, or on a red carpet but not really publicly discussing your relationship (even though everyone knows you’re together), and everyone is either super happy and ships the ever loving shit out of you, or they clown on you a bit and make “who’s punching up” videos and odd comments, and just not giving a fuck and being happy together but kinda wanting to be viewed like any other couple and not just another famous couple to be analyzed. (also similar to mutual break up but you don’t care about hate and stay together)

AND

2) schlatt made a joke about having his cock out in the latest chuckle sandwich episode and….. giving him head under his desk when he films….. for some things, like recordings where he’s not showing his face, it’s easy, but when he has his face out, it’s a bit more challenging. he has to restrain the urge to watch you and moan SOOO bad…. that’s all.

LMAO NONNIE THE FIRST ONE, I HAD TOO

okay, let’s say you’re a celebrity that is agreed by men, women, etc. to be absolutely stunning

so many people that love you, call you their wife, etc.

you are an absolute style icon, wearing pieces made for you to exclusive red carpet events

even people who hate you have to agree you’ve got a great style in clothes and makeup and yes, you’re iconic, at least a little

then somehow you make your way to the youtube community

people assume from you being so open and sweet and social is how you find yourself starring in a project directed by Ted Nivison

you’re so excited for it, interacting with other creators, etc.

Jschlatt knows of you, but thinks you’re probably like all those LA stuck up influencers that managed to make enough connections to get what you wanted

but when he has his first interaction with you on twitter??

he’s taking the chance to flirt with you publicly

in any way shape or form

and is so public about his crush on you to the point everyone is convinced he runs a stan account for you

you both do get closer behind the scenes but don’t tell much people about it

especially considering his jokes that people love taking seriously and out of context

you both are pretty secretive about it, super down low about it until the day he decides to pay for your nails

a small j is on the underside of your ring finger as to not show it off too much

it can’t even be seen unless it’s up close

then someone points it out on twitter in a selfie

you say it was dirt, but they know what they saw

then the paparazzi comes in and takes a photo that goes viral of you in sweats and a suspiciously familiar wilson hoodie

you say it a coincidence over and over again but the evidence is undeniable when you post multiple selfies in familiar hoodies that look just a little too large for you

small scratches and bite marks on your arms but you never mentioned getting a cat

then you appear in a chuckle sandwich interview

but the vibe is different in that video compared to the rest with guests

schlatt is polite??? and listening to you??

he looks at you with so much affection

yeah, your team does damage control and quickly

claiming that you’re currently single and focused on your career

then you fuck up on your own

a misclick on a story made for your close friends of you kissing your boyfriend’s cheek as he has the biggest smile ever plastered on his face

oh well, too late to deny anymore

so you don’t say anything until your next red carpet event where he’s essentially your accessory

like arm candy and dressed to match you

then everyone definitely knows

and let me tell you, some stans are sobbing

lots of “i waited 3 1/2 years, white man did it in one week” from fans and other celebrities

punching the air too

lots of crying and audios after they realize you’re dating him fr fr and not them

people definitely make memes out of it

goddess s/o and bf they probably found digging around in the trash and probably has rabies

yk that one meme of shining armor and princess cadence?

yeah, that + other attractive partner and their silly bf

so so so many of those “do you think we’re…in another universe?” slides

they clip any time he talks about you and use it for edits

editing characters you play with c! schlatt (it’s giving jack frost x elsa)

they love the two of you and seriously cannot get enough

but they really are punching the air when he marries you and when he gets you pregnant (if applicable)

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #dollie yaps 🗣️#jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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03/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew; Samba; Guz; Lube As A Crew; GLAAD Awards; Fan Spotlight; Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew (Act Of Grace); Big Gay Energy Podcast; Cast Cards; SchadenFreude; Watch Parties; In Soup Now; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

== Samba Schutte BTS ==

Samba was kind enough to grace us with more BTS today. Some pictures and a lot of videos!

CW: Fake Blood and Gore

Video 1: Vico Freaking out over the outfittings

Video 2: Cursed Ship On Deck

Video 3: Revenge Crew Jumping On Deck from Back

Video 4: Bloody

Video 5: Geo-met-ery

Video 6: More On Deck

== Guz Khan ==

Guz Khan's got some upcoming shows! If you're in NYC or LA, feel free to check him out this April! Tickets

== Final Lube As A Crew ==

It was a fun and sad day with our crewmates over at @astroglideofficial. The Social Media conductor was having a lovely time, but obviously was bittersweet with it ending. Here's some highlights from the watch party. To see more visit their twitter. If I get some time this weekend i'll try to put all the lube as a crew stuff together on the repo so you can see it all, just not gonna get to it tonight. I tried to get the timeline in order.. if not, apologies!

== GLAADforOFMD==

So in case it comes up.. there was some drama with some other fandoms regarding GLAAD today on Twitter. The TLDR; version is, some tweets went out regarding how disappointed we were about Ted Lasso winning out over Our Flag Means Death for Outstanding Comedy Series. Somehow, Yellowjackets fandom, who won a different category Outstanding Drama Series somehow got the idea that OFMD fans were complaining about Yellowjackets winning. It was corrected multiple times by multiple people but they kept coming. So yeah, twitter being twitter, not a great time. Sending love to @koneko_army and any other crewmates who had to deal with it.

If you wanna see the GlaadWinners visit The Hollywood Reporter

If you really wanna see the whole thread, you can visit Koneko's Twitter but honestly I don't recommend it, I wasn't even part of it and it stresses me out reading it.

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew =

Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew (Act of Grace) song came out today!

Tumblr Post

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

New Big Gay Energy Podcast dropped!

youtube

= Cast Cards =

Our crewmate @melvisik has spotlighted one of our dearest friends Dominic Burgess this time! Starting to round out the collection! Thanks hon!

== Schaden Freude ==

Still trending downward! Great job fam!

== Watch Parties ==

Mar 17th: The Boat That Rocked AKA Pirate Radio Watch Party

7:30 pm GMT / 3:30 pm EST / 1:30 pm CST

Watch Party Hashtags:

PirateRadio

AdoptOurCrew

SaveOFMD

OurFlagMeansWatchAlong

Mar 18 - Mar 22: Wrecked Season 3

Season 3 watch from March 18th to March 22nd.

Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.

Hashtags:

#WreckedPirates

#SaveOFMD

#RhysDarbyFaction

== In Soup Now ==

In Soup Now is back! Post your soups/stews/recipes with!

#InSoupNow

#SaveOFMD

#LongLiveOFMD

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. Another week has passed. I really hope it wasn't too hard on you-- and if you're off to work tomorrow too, that you get some semblance of rest soon. Sometimes it feels like we're too small to make a difference, or we don't know enough, or we're not pretty enough, or we're not strong enough. Or we're not enough of something, whatever it happens to be. But you know what? You do plenty. You are plenty. You are plenty beautiful, and plenty strong, and plenty full of life, and plenty knowledgeable, and you make plenty of a difference. You make a difference every day, in our lives, and the lives around you. I hope you get some rest and tomorrow you get to see even a glimpse of awesome you truly are. Take care lovelies <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is DRINKIES!

Darby Gif Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif Courtesy of @caribbean1989

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #samba schutte #guz khan #big gay energy podcast #Ari Azure #Youtube

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gottagobackintime · 1 year

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I find it fascinating to witness the straight audience of any media not being able to pick up what the makers of the movie/show puts down.

It’s like when people reacted to the “You wear fine things well” scene in Our Flag Means Death with “aw, they’re such good friends” whereas the queer audience went “omg, this is happening”. We all had access to the same scene, we’d all watched the build up to that scene but the straight audience wrongly read it as friends/straight whereas the queer audience had suspected they were building up to a romance but this was the confirmation. Even the creator of the show was baffled that people were surprised that Ed and Stede fell in love. Because he thought they had made it obvious.

And as I said, we, the queer audience picked up on it. And I feel like the same thing is happening with Ted Lasso. Do I know that Ted and Trent will get together? No, I am unfortunately not a writer on Ted Lasso. But you can’t deny that there are clues pointing to it. But the straight audience barely pick up the fact that Ted and Trent like each other, be that in a platonic way or romantic way. I’ve seen several reactions to the last episode of season 2 and ONE of them included the scene where Ted reacts to Trent not being in the press room. All of them severely cut down the scene in the parking lot. One of the scenes most of us Ted/Trent truthers point to as a huge piece of evidence for it going canon. The parallel of them meeting in an empty parking lot, just like Ted and his ex-wife and Roy and Keeley. But because Ted and Trent are both men it couldn’t possibly mean anything. And Ted has an ex-wife and a kid so he can’t possibly be into men, as if there is no such thing as being bisexual. “But I’m pretty sure Trent has a family, he has a kid right?” So? He could be divorced, we also have no idea if his daughter has another dad or a mum. And the same thing applies to him, it doesn’t mean he can’t be into men (take also into account all of James Lance’s interviews, and his choice of shirt in one of them, friend of Dorothy anyone? He's the captain of this ship, we're just along for the ride tbh.)

Then we have the wonderful “I’m so not homophobic, in fact, you are homophobic because you think Ted is gay just because he likes musicals and has ‘feminine’ traits” um no… it’s the fact that he kind of acts in a way that an ally wouldn't. Yeah, he called himself an ally in that one episode. But every single person who is now out as queer who at one point considered themselves an ally because "I’m not one of them but I sure think they're neat" raise a hand 🖐️ (been there, done that. Was very into queer things before I realised I myself am one of them). What it always comes down to is "it's pandering", "it's tokenism" (having the main character on the show be queer wouldn't be fucking tokenism), "not everything has to be gay", "why can't men just be friends, there is a severe lack of male friendships on tv". And like the last one makes me go??? There are a MILLION friendships between men on TV. There are even multiple friendships between men in Ted Lasso. Beard and Ted, Ted and Higgins, Ted and Roy, the himbos and so on. Having Ted and Trent become a couple wouldn't really change anything because there are still friendships between men. They also claim that Ted is needed as the "straight without toxic masculinity" representation. As if Beard isn't right there. The man who has no problem going to an immersive show about the menstrual cycle. Has no problem with shrieking when he's surprised and so on.

I also like that if we'd get Ted and Trent together, we'd get two middle aged queer dads. Which isn't that common. It's not even super common to see people realising they're queer late in life on TV, and yet it happens every day. Because let's face it, most queer men on TV kind of look like Colin, and I don't mean that as a bad thing. And I'm looking forward to his storyline. But it's also nice seeing middle aged or old people finding themselves and being allowed to be who they are (see Ed and Stede from OFMD). Also would enjoy seeing people lose their minds when they realise they've been fooled this entire time. It'll be like Black Sails all over again.

I do not have any doubts about the fact that, had Trent or Ted been a woman and they saw Trent give up his career because of Ted's influence, they sure as hell wouldn't protest people thinking they'd become a couple. But because it's two men it's just delusional for some reason (homophobia).

What I'm saying is, it's clear that the straight audience has a hard time picking up subtext and clues that the makers are planting. Because they've never had to do that. Because they are always clearly represented. They don't have to look for minor side characters and hope that they might be queer. Because the main character is straight and most of the supporting cast too. When you've grown up with a lack of representation or with representation that is meant to be subtext, you'll learn to pick up on it. And you do look at media differently. I just wish that the straight audience could listen to us for once, without getting defensive and dancing around the fact that they are uncomfortable relating to a character that turned out to be queer.

#tedependent #ted lasso #trent crimm #there are so many times where I'm watching something and I go... hold on that is... is that a queer character... yes it must be #and then they do something small that confirms it and I'm like I fucking knew it!#I have 0 gaydar in real life but when it comes to media I tend to pick up on it #I wish that all straight people would learn about the way queer people have been represented throughout history #so that they might be able to understand why we have to look for subtext even today #hell we got ''representation'' in star wars and beauty and the beast and it was blink and you'll miss it #and they wonder why we have to make everything gay??#because we want to be represented in a show that isn't strictly about being queer #yes it's nice with a ''everyone is queer'' kind of show #but it's also nice to be seen in a mainstream show that is loved by not just a queer audience but also a straight audience #nicole watches stuff

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cellarspider · 3 months

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5/?? The pseudohistory of Prometheus

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to a movie I wish to send on a journey down the Kola Superdeep Borehole, Prometheus.

And my insanity truly begins in this segment. We are only 1/10th of the way through the movie so far. Content warnings for discussion of racism in pseudoscience and historical anthropology, Spider getting hung up on logistics and space nerd stuff, and pictures of Yuri Knorozov, the most sour-faced man to ever live.

The cast sits down for a briefing. This is a scene with an easily identifiable narrative function: providing exposition to the theater audience. The act of doing a briefing makes sense. It is the last thing here that will.

We are introduced to a hologram of Peter Weyland, the financier of the expedition. The name means all sorts of Lore to the series, but what’s intensely distracting is that we seem to have caught Weyland halfway through applying his zombie makeup.

Weyland is played by Guy Pierce. As of the filming of this movie, he was somewhere around 45 years old. Yes, they smothered this Australian in old man drag so that he could play this character. This is a baffling decision, that only gets slightly less baffling if you know the production history of the movie, which I did not at the time.

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Guy Pierce was hired to play a younger Peter Weyland. There’s a promo video out there of him giving a fictional TED Talk in the not-to-distant future of next Sunday AD 2023, there were various plans for him to appear in the movie proper. None of those scenes are actually in the movie. They refused to double-cast the role for some reason. While the practical effects in the movie are generally excellent and it does make the tiniest smidge of sense that a hypercapitalist asshole would be portrayed as a literal rubber-faced movie monster, this, like many things in Prometheus, made the movie a very weird sit. One where I was increasingly less open to going along with the movie’s fiction. You are telling me that this is an actual human man. I am not buying it. He looks far less human than David, the only non-human there.

Speaking of David, Weyland calls him “the closest thing to a son I will ever have”, and then immediately says David is an inhuman lesser being, who does not appreciate the specialness of his existence because he does not have a soul.

Which is funny, because I think you can see David’s soul leaving his body at this exact moment.

Weyland then tries to mash in some existential weight to the movie: they might finally get an answer for “why are we here?” and all that jazz! He also tries to explain why naming a ship Prometheus is totally not like calling it Titanic II: Don’t think about the part of the myth where Prometheus is chained to a rock and has his ever-regenerating liver eaten by an eagle every day! Think about the bit where he brought fire to mankind! We’re gonna bring back that bit!

And then the archaeologists take over the briefing, and this, THIS, is the bit where they entirely lost me. My suspension of disbelief had already been strained by multiple oddities up to this point. My skepticism about these characters in particular was already a bit elevated by their implied invocation of the ancient astronauts concept.

Turns out, only Vickers, Shaw, and Holloway know why they’re here.

Two years away from Earth. On a massively expensive expedition that intends to make first contact with an alien culture, the first alien culture that humankind has ever found evidence of. Nobody has been briefed up until this point.

This is lunacy.

Explanations have been figured out by fans since then: this is a passion project by Weyland, an annoyance to the rest of the corporate structure that nobody else believes in. The movie eventually intimates this, through Vickers.

Fans have thus speculated that Weyland was just quarantined off to do his little alien hunt, with no logistical support that would make it actually functional. He believed a crazy theory put forward by Shaw and Holloway, and everyone else wasn’t actually best-of-the-best, they were just whoever would take a big paycheck to do fuck-all for nearly five years of sleeping their way to and from their destination.

I am willing to consider that this was intentional. The movie possibly tries to confirm this with Mr. “I’m here for the money” Fifield, but none of the other characters have enough characterization to determine if this is the general trend.

How could we make a story that more clearly spells this out? Maybe Millburn the biologist could encounter more of the crew talking about the payout from taking the job, or reveal that he himself has some project he needs money for. It would also chip away at the dearth of character-building dialog for most of the cast.

As a result of those deficiencies in characterization, a lot of my discussion of plot points is going to be focused around what they do, rather than why. …Except when it is about the why, at which point the main commentary will be “WHY.”

In any case: while it makes sense, I'm still not certain the film meant for this character motivation. Prometheus is just so loudly explicit with so many of its plot points that it doesn’t seem like this is the case. The movie certainly believes in the sincerity and correctness of the archaeologists, though.

Unfortunately, it also immediately tells me that they’re a couple of wingnuts. I’m not sure if it intends to, for reasons I’ll get into after I foam at the mouth for a little while.

They present a series of artifacts to the crew: Egyptian, Mayan, Akkadian, Sumerian, Hittite, Hawaiian, and their Scottish cave painting. All of them feature “men worshiping giant beings”, who are pointing to what stargazer nerds call an asterism: a pattern of stars. Shaw and Holloway believe that these are aliens that engineered humans into their current state. Shaw literally says “it’s what I choose to believe” as the entirety of their justification for this.

Again: I knew the movie wanted me to take this as truth, within its universe. That’s the implicit deal the movie has made with the audience, this is truth. You are supposed to be contemplating the "whys" of it all. But the movie had also smacked me in the brain so many times in the past five minutes, that I, like Millburn the Biologist, was ready to call bullshit.

I appreciate him for doing so, and it shows he could have been a smart character, but sadly, he is in Prometheus.

Because he is a fictional biologist and I am an actual biologist, I will expand on his argument, as I descend into ranting for the rest of the post.

Millburn objects on the basis of evolutionary history, which the movie only partially succeeds in papering over: the implication is that evolution on Earth was directed with the deterministic outcome of creating something like humans.

This opens up a whole new can of worms that the movie doesn’t get into–when exactly did this engineering start? When great apes evolved? When mammals did? Tetrapods? Skeletons? DNA itself? After all, we know the aliens, now dubbed Engineers by the archaeologists, have DNA. Did they seed all life on Earth? How did they evolve? Our last universal common ancestor is believed to have already been using DNA 3-4 billion years ago, evolving out of a likely RNA-based genetic standard. Hominins diverged from other apes around 15-25 million years ago. What sort of culture would undertake a project that required at least 15 million years on the extreme low end?

All excellent questions! The movie is not concerned with them. I am, and that is part of why this movie still lives in a special, awful place in my head.

This isn’t actually what made me become actively hostile toward the archaeologists, though. What managed that, well! It was their archaeology. Anybody who had an Ancient Egypt Phase in their childhood should be able to articulate multiple reasons why the academic community would’ve laughed these guys out of the building.

Bigness in ancient egyptian art does not indicate literal size. It indicates importance. In fact, the artifacts the movie uses exclusively come from artistic traditions which feature hierarchical or non-literal scale. Do the Engineers turn out to actually be eight feet tall? Yes! Am I still annoyed by this? ABSOLUTELY.

You know what else is a big problem? Many of the cultures they reference here had written language! A LOT of written language! They include Egyptian, Sumerian, Babylonian, and Mayan art in their evidence, all of which not only wrote a LOT of things down, but had a habit of annotating a lot of their art with labels to tell you what was going on! You can actually see some on the props they used in this scene!

Beyond that, they had very prescribed formal styles, where you can follow the action entirely through gestures, held objects, attendant symbols, and clothing! If all these cultures, as implied, had actual, direct contact with aliens, recorded in the art presented here, we would know what they were told.

Skipping ahead of the movie for a minute: the Engineers were apparently not telling humans “we’re here in these stars, come find us”, they were telling humans “settle the fuck down or this is where the hurt’s going to come from”.

Here's the thing. Ancient peoples weren't stupid. They wouldn't just not talk about this. If giant aliens came down from the sky and gave them a stern talking-to that contradicted their religion, that would be a big deal. And these characters specifically say the Engineers are being "worshiped" in these images! They're apparently taking onboard what's being said!

It is certainly possible for information to be lost. Over long time scales, that's unfortunately the rule, rather than the exception. But again: half the artifacts have writing on them!

I chose to believe that Shaw and Holloway simply did not attempt to read any available translations of attendant texts, and they were thus cursed for their foolishness by the ghosts of Mayan Studies pioneer Yuri Knorozov and EgyptologistJean-François Champollion, and the still-extant spirit of Assyriologist Irving Finkel.

Knorozov knows your sins against Mayan Studies. Knorozov is a vengeful god. Chapollion and Finkel are likewise very cross.

Two last things stood out to me in the theater. One of them was extremely petty but tied into some very serious issues with pseudoscience, and the other one was not.

Pettiness first: the asterism shown in the artifacts is a pattern of six stars. The movie wants you to believe that it is very spooky that the only asterism that precisely matches this pattern are six stars that are too faint to see with the naked eye. This is laughable, both because the asterism is so generic-looking that I can think of several very visible asterisms that are good matches for the pattern, but it also recapitulates a bunch of really fucking annoying shit from pseudoscientific bullshit.

First: Pseudoscience and pseudohistory likes to make a big deal out of the fact that every culture has stories about the stars. Why?

The sky is very important to every culture’s mythology, because every culture can see the sky. Like, that’s literally it. People can see the sky. They tell stories about it. There’s not much to do at night except look at the sky, when even keeping a fire lit can be an expensive prospect. It is not even the least bit weird when multiple cultures–all of them in the northern hemisphere in this case!–have stories about the same stars.

Second: Cultures vary in their ability to faithfully reproduce celestial landmarks in art and align their architecture is variable, and not as exact as modern techniques can manage. Pseudoscience will claim that they are exact, when it fits their pre-existing theory, or fudge the difference if they want something to fit their claims.

(This is a photoshopped image, by the way.)

Were the stone age temples of Malta secretly aligned with a particular star that foretold the doom of Atlantis, precisely tracking its location through the sky over thousands of years of Earth’s axial wobbling? No! They were roughly aligned with the sun. Sunlight is important when you don’t have electric lights. Were the Great Pyramids of Giza laid out ten thousand years ago to match the layout of the stars in Orion’s Belt, according to the designs of a legendary lost race of highly advanced non-African people? Were they tapping into the Earth’s magnetic field to generate energy? No! They were aligned with the cardinal directions, and they got them a bit wrong!

Hell, if we want to play at that game, I found a decent match for the asterism in Stellarium's Egyptian constellation set. Just flip this 90 degrees clockwise and you'll see I'm totally right. Aliens confirmed.

I know the movie is trying to tell me that all the asterisms in the art are precise matches for each other and are thus impossible to explain without intercultural contact (or aliens!!), but it is also showing me that they are not that precise. So, it’s just showing me stars. At least in some of them. Their little charcoal lad from the Isle of Skye may be throwing fruit at his audience.

In fact, there's a further, probably unintentional link to pseudohistorical claims in the artifacts presented: the Maya artifact shown does not actually depict a "giant figure" being worshiped, in fact, it shows one instantly recognizable, known figure in Classical Maya history: It is an altered version of the ornately carved coffin lid of Kʼinich Janaab Pakal I (24 March 603 - 29 August 683), with the top quarter of the carving replaced with a star pattern that looks nothing like the ones on the other artifacts.

The carving shows Pakal in the pose of an infant, entering into death and being reborn. It is packed full of so many symbolic elements that can be easily recognized by those more familiar with the Classical Maya than I am.

Conspiracy theorist Erich von Däniken thought that it showed Pakal rocketing away on a spaceship. Däniken proposed this because he didn't understand the cultural symbolism, but he had seen pictures of astronauts before.

And on that note, 2,400 words into this rant, we get to the actually bad shit. Unfortunately, it ties into the issue I had with the premise to begin with: the real-world context of pseudoscientific claims of ancient alien contact. Specifically, the racism.

We’re going to unspool this more near the end of the movie, because there was further behind the scenes I was not aware of when I first saw Prometheus, and it just compounds this stuff.

So, when I went on my first tangent on how unpleasant ancient alien theories are, one thing I highlighted is that the further from Western Civilization you get, the more these theories presuppose that fellow humans are incapable of building great works or imagining interesting things. No, they had to be guided, and explicitly shown things that they copied down to the best of their limited capability.

The only european example of alien contact they show is from the Upper Paleolithic, 37,000 years ago. All the examples around the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia range from 5,500-3,700 years ago. The examples from the Classical Maya and Hawaiʻi are from 620 and 680 CE.

During this period, Tang Dynasty merchants were creating the first paper money as the famous female emperor Wu Zetian was on her way to the throne. The Prophet Muhammad went to al-Aqsa mosque, and we’re only eight years before the birth of Charlemagne’s grandfather. We’re no longer talking ancient, it’s just old.

I want to emphasize that the movie is presenting these not as depictions of myths that have been passed down–though there are more problems with that I’ll get into shortly–these are implied to be contemporary depictions of events witnessed by the artists, who were quite possibly instructed by the Engineers to record a precise pattern of stars. An equivalency is being drawn between stone age Europe, bronze age Africa and the Middle East, and a couple of startlingly recent Mesoamerican and Polynesian cultures.

But let’s be generous. Maybe these aren’t supposed to be contemporary accounts in these two outlier cases: the movie’s script will certainly indicate later that they have no idea what they’ve implied here. Perhaps these are story traditions that were handed down from the Olmecs and Melanesian precursors of the first to sail to Hawaiʻi.

Unfortunately, this just recapitulates a different racist trope: that European and more “developed” civilizations invented so much cool and comfortable material culture and philosophy that they forgot the Mystical Religious Truths of the old ways, which were preserved only in Primitive Lands and among Uneducated Peoples, where they never found anything better to do with their time. Oh, if only we had heeded the warnings from those spiritually attuned non-white people!

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(Look, I only remember Devil (2010), which has 50% on Rotten Tomatoes, because M Night Shyamalan wrote and produced it, and this was two years after The Happening came out, so I watched it out of morbid curiosity. It's not as unbelievably bad as The Happening, but as shown in the clip above, the spiritually attuned latino security guard Ramirez attributes toast landing jelly side down to Satan. That is an actual thing that happens in the movie. He is proven right.)

But let's be even more generous: someone probably realized that they'd focused near-exclusively on Middle Eastern cultures, and wanted to throw in a couple from elsewhere. Sitting here, having seen the movie in full, this is the most likely option: their inclusion creates a contradiction with a later scene, and was thus probably not checked for consistency. These cultures were thrown in as a bit of background flavor. I list this last, because in the theater, there was no way to know this at the time.

That answer's still not great. Still leaves us in the same position, where Europeans are pretty much given their own agency, while other cultures need to be led.

Oh, and to anyone else who’s made it this far and knows the production history of Prometheus: don’t worry! I know what Ridley Scott told that one interviewer, about a contact between a less-ancient European power and the Engineers. I’m saving that one. I like to save that one, because strategic deployment of that quote made some of my IRL friends scream.

Next time: the Prometheus descends to an alien world, and I descend further into madness. I am going to drag you all down with me.

(Pictured: Yuri Knorozov, and my present mood.)

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(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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Citations for alt text ramblings:

https://www.almendron.com/artehistoria/arte/culturas/egyptian-art-in-age-of-the-pyramids/catalogue-fourth-dynasty/

#Prometheus (2012)#prometheus 2012 #The last time I watched this movie with a scientific colleague and friend #this scene took us twenty minutes to get through #because we were both biologists #plus me with the archaeology and a dash of space nerdery #and they knew mesopotamian history #so by the time we were done with this scene we were ginned up and ready to fight the movie

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magicalmysteryperson · 2 years

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Adrienn Banai: The Rat Lover

I didn't want to post about any of this, but this person forced my hand.

I can't let this person run around on this hellsite anymore.

For those not in the know, this person harasses artists into drawing their husbando: a rat character named "Grey" from the children's series "Larva Island". Sometimes they also harass people into drawing Grey's grandpa, a female version of Grey named "Greyless", Grey wearing Roxanne's dress from "A Goofy Movie", and plenty of parodies of the opening scene of said movie. Like, they subjected one person to draw that same sequence with different characters like 6-7 times. And the "best" part? Sometimes they steal the poor victim's art to claim it as their own. And sometimes, they create edits of them WITHOUT CREDITING THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS. And when they do get caught, they apologize. A lot. But that's only a front to get respect again.

Her husbando

And I was one of their unfortunate victims. This person is weird as all hell; they ship this rat with Pibby (a character that is canonically from a preschool show), Meilin Lee (A hecking 13 year old girl), and Adrienn themselves.

The rat, according to the user, is 15 while the female version of the rest, his girlfriend, is 12.

Adrienn themselves are either 17 or 19.

The fandoms they follow are: -Courage the Cowardly Dog -Friday Night Funkin -Learning with Pibby -Little Nightmares -Turning Red -Anything Disney related (Goofy mostly) -Steven Universe -Made in Abyss -Road to El Dorado -Eddsworld -Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles -Super Mario series and, most importantly, Larva.

She stole my artwork just to make crappy edits

adrienn, flat out admitting that they steal art from people

It's already kind of weird enough, but then I did more digging on this person. They have a butt ton of accounts on a multitude of social media websites. They have a few on reddit, a few on wikia, one on vimeo, and a few on behance, of all places. They have a long history of harassing users, especially on reddit and wikia. They have the most accounts on Tumblr, with five (two of them are inactive.) The second biggest is wikia, with four. The earliest accounts were on DeviantArt, which makes a lot of sense. Oh, but it gets better. They have uncensored nsfw content on two tumblrs. This is from one of their accounts. I am not going to show you the image, but I'm going to show you the tags:

I mean, I'm glad that they tagged it as "rule 34", but I'm more surprised about how tumblr didn't purge those posts or ban the user entirely. So, if you see someone with any of these accounts ask you to draw this rat, dump the ask and block em. Hell, even report them if you need to : https://adrienn-banai-09.tumblr.com/ (WARNING, NSFW CONTENT AHEAD) https://adriennbanai09.tumblr.com/ (Not as nsfw as the one above, but still, nsfw) https://andreabanai.tumblr.com/ https://adriennsposts.tumblr.com/ (currently active) https://adriennbanai-09.tumblr.com/ (currently inactive) https://adriennbanai-2022.tumblr.com They may also go by "zoltanbanai", so keep your eyes out.

And Adrienn/Andrea, if you are reading this, I urge you to take a break from the internet and get some help. As I said multiple times, this behavior will not help you make friends. It will only make more enemies. I am an autistic just like you (probably. idk) and I really don't want to put you down like this, but you're already weirding a bunch of people out. Though you probably won't listen to me anyway, since apparently in your eyes the word "no" is just an unspoken "yes".

And please don't harass this person or send them death threats. Doing that just makes you a bad person.

I hope this is the last time I talk about this person, because I don't really have the time or the patience to deal with stupid bullcrap like this.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. The clorox brain bleach is on the right side of the exits.

#important #psa #cw: weird shit #cw: kinda suggestive #art theft #grey rat saga

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skenisasleb · 3 months

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Oliver Intro Post

TW: There are some references to touchy real-life events. There is also verbal abuse and child neglect. Proceed with caution.

Oliver Ranch is the second South Park OC I have made. I made him originally to ship with my OC, Ted, since I shipped Ted with Kyle before and I realized that may be kiiiiinda cringe. 😭

Now he’s one of my favorites out my SP OCs.

(All forms of him below are ‘episode’ scenarios I have created for him.)

Oliver’s Main Story

He is the firstborn of his three siblings; he has a baby brother, Bryce, and a younger sister, Blair. He cares for the both of them to substitute for his parent’s horrible behavior.

His mother is a overall angry person, probably where Oliver got his own anger issues. She verbally abuses everyone in the family, and gets close to hitting them on the occasion. Oliver’s father is a drunk and spends all his time drinking, watching football on the TV, and falling asleep on the pull-out couch.

Oliver’s Relationships

Oliver is in a relationship with Ted, and even though before he wanted to punt Ted into the street in the beginning, he now is overly protective of Ted and would resort to dangerous measures to protect him. Oliver also allows Ted to call him “Olive.” If anyone else tries to call him this, he will most likely pop them in the mouth.

Oliver absolutely hates Augustus. He has thought about wringing the clown’s neck multiple times; even making up fake scenarios where he could just gut the guy. In secret, Oliver is envious of Augustus’ progress, running a circus all by himself without anyone overlooking him.

Oliver doesn’t really approach Casey and Ernesto. He prefers to keep his circle tight, where the circle only consists of Ted (Ted takes up his whole social battery anyway).

Oliver’s Sub-Plots/‘Episodes’

“Self-Defense”

The government has passed a law, allowing kids in America under the age of 10 to own and carry guns in order to protect themselves. Most kids don’t know what to do with a gun, or don’t know how to work it and end up massacring each other. Oliver, already owning a pistol beforehand (illegally, might I add) and now with the freedom to own as many guns as he wants, he goes absolutely ballistic and joins in the chaos on purpose.

“Come Get My Ass”

Oliver is deathly afraid of the visitors. Everyone in South Park seems to pass it up as just a thing that happens, but Oliver doesn’t want something he doesn’t want up his ass. He has nightmares where he would look in the mirror and see himself as a visitor. He decides that he will try and stop the visitors himself if the people of South Park won’t.

“AI Generated Slavery”

…. If you couldn’t tell, this is a play off of the disasters of the recent Willy Wonka incident. 💀

But this time, the organizer of the event hired children for low pay because his budget dropped from the shipping of the hologram interactive activity that was meant to arrive for the event, but never came. So now the organizer would be charged for MORE heinous crimes :DD

“Phantom of the Soap Opera”

“The Phantom of the Opera,” but make it a soap opera with goofy-ass side characters like the neighbor, Dave Hillis, and Christine’s boss, Junior.

In this case, the Phantom is Oliver, who is a shut-in who practices the piano, and Christine is Ted, who works a casual job at the hardware store.

It’s really just silly goofy stuff.

“Pride Misconseption”

Oliver completely misunderstood what a Pride parade actually is for. He thought it was just a place to be proud of ANYTHING. Therefore, he went to the Pride parade decked out in Scottish flags. People present were pissed and confused at Oliver, accusing him of not taking it seriously and kicking him out of the parade after shaming him. The whole time, Oliver was just confused, never really knowing what the parade was truly for.

“The Mishaps of the Furry and the School Shooter”

Pretty much an ‘episode’ featuring Blackbear and Dire Dune teaming up in order to beat Cartman’s ass, forming a duo that strayed from both Freedom Pals and the C**n and Friends.

Dire Dune is Oliver’s superhero persona; he is an elemental class that controls sand and strives to control the rocks that the grains came from.

Contrary to his actual personality, Dire Dune is a more calm and collected character who shares wisdom instead of spitting harsh truths.

I have made other ‘episode’ ideas, but they’re not as fully developed as the ones I have shared, so I decided not to share them. That’s all for Oliver’s backstory!! Thank you for reading this far!! :DD

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rhautumnson · 1 month

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Damn a tiktok got me thinking

ROYKORI

So, I like them in the sense that both characters are kindhearted beings and good friends.

They have both gone through terrible things and come out of it, with a mentality of being better than what happened to them, they look for the good side of things, they try to understand and help others. Which I can see them relating to deeply. But going more into the characters' psyche, they would actually make a great pairing.

From the beginning, Roy treats Kori as someone who is much more than an infantilized alien who does not understand anything about humans, a mistake that others make multiple times. He does not treat her like an ignorant, a child who is just learning or who throws aggressive tantrums, which other members do. (which makes Kori get used to overexplain herself like in the panels above).

Roy takes her seriously her and her powers, doesn't understimate at all her potential. He is the kind of guy to talk about things (when actually notices something is wrong or upsetting somebody) Thing that has been a problem for Kori, since she tends to help the rest but not express herself as much as she feels)

Both are pretty open to love and show affection to people , both are pretty emotional ,both have a good amount of sexual drive (Not that this is crucial to me, but realistically speaking the sexual drive is another factor to take into account in a relationship) , both have known eachother and been good friends for a long time and are willing to talk thing wherever they're having a hard moment.

As a plus , they're the ones to call up Dick when he is being too much like the bad part of Batman.

Now , I'm not saying they should be together, but it's actually a nice "ship" if the writers ever decide to pair them up together, especially considering that in the actual continuity they did dated.

Taking Lobdell out of this mix this time, of course.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk 🧏

#roykori #roykory #roy harper #koriandr #starfire #speedy #arsenal dc #dc #dc comics

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roleplayfinder · 2 months

Note

hello everyone!! i’m 22, she/they pronouns, looking for 18+ partners to do a harry potter marauders era rp over on discord! i would love if you would be open to writing multiple characters but please come willing to at least double.

i am mostly looking to write canon characters myself. however, i’m happy to write cc x cc or cc x your oc. but please be comfortable potentially doing cc x cc for my side of things or as potential ships if we decide to do a mumu.

i have a bunch of characters that i’ve been wanting to write for and against including but not limited to: regulus black, sirius black, remus lupin, james potter, evan rosier, barty crouch jr., pandora lovegood, frank longbottom, lucius malfoy, narcissa black, ted tonks, andromeda black, emmeline vance, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, and dorcas meadows.

in terms of ships, i have a bunch that i’ve been wanting to write (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.) hence why i would love for this to be a mumu, but again it’s not mandatory. some of the ships i can think of off the top of my head include: rosekiller, jily, jegulus, regulily, dorlene, marylily, pandalily, frank/alice, pandora/xenophilius, nobleflower and of course wolfstar. however there are a few rare pairs that i would be happy to include as well depending on what you’re comfortable with!!

in terms of writing, i am quality > quantity, i’m not a stickler for length or your activity level (i’ll never hound you for replies, take as long as you need). i do write in third person and descriptively. i love to plot and ramble about our ships and the characters ooc. i love making and sending inspo, edits, pinterest boards, etc. back and forth!

if any of this sounds interesting, please like this post and i’ll message you!

#eighteen and over #marauders #marauders roleplay #marauders rp #harry potter #harry potter roleplay #harry potter rp

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loganschwarzy · 3 days

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i've been bitten by the editing bug. which one should i make first

#hatchetfield #spies are forever #the crane wives #edits #steam powered giraffe

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straightbaittournament · 8 months

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may the best bait win! propaganda under the cut:

ted and rebecca:

They were set up from the very beginning and there was a super mean mocking scene in the last episode where they teased them having had sex but it didn’t pay off. Ted moves back in with his ex-wife at the end. It’s sad.

the setup is classic romcom shit. bitter rich woman fresh off a harrowing divorce hires sunshine man to unwittingly destroy the only thing her ex-husband truly loved but unfortunately grows attached to both him and that thing. there are multiple shots implying romance between them that end up being fake-outs. these bitches get a goddamn last-minute airport visit. i’m so glad they didn’t end up together tbh i do not like this ship romantically

a romantic relationship has been teased between them trough all seasons but they never actually get together they're just platonic besties

THEY WERE ROBBED!!! like. literally they did at least 3 bait and switch tactics in at least once per season, the last of which being strongly implying in a scene in the FINALE that they slept together. the actress for Rebecca said that she thought they would end up together which obviously affected her performance so we all watched as the show ended with the strongest implication that there’s an unrequited love between them.

luke and leia:

The idea of Luke and Leia was used in advertisements but they obviously decided not to do that. IT’S SO FUNNY. Like, I think this is the closest white straight people will ever get to ‘they were cousins’ing a couple. I looked up advertising to see if it was just in the movie proper or it WAS used to sell it and https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5z1SziDPKQw&t=118s&pp=2AF2kAIB ‘Luke and Leia: in danger, in love, in Star Wars’ is going to be one of the things that rolls around in my head for ages. It’s not just the whole ‘het love triangle advertises 2nd pairing that everyone knows won’t happen’ like Twilight, it’s the backpeddaling ‘no no it can’t happen, they’re actually siblings! It’d be weird! Ignore the ‘good luck’ kiss and the ‘I’ll be back’ kiss in the medbay and of course the full on make out session scene that happened! And even our own advertising’ Of it all.‘

#AGAIN SO SO FUCKING SORRY #star wars #ted lasso #tedbecca #luke skywalker #leia organa #ask to tag #straightbait tournament round 1 #poll #polls #poll tournament

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laiqualaurelote · 1 year

Note

for the wip ask meme: cover story!

Thank you for this ask (from this WIP game)! a couple of folks have asked about this one. It's the Ted/Trent spy-AU-in-a-Notting-Hill-bookshop-AU, which stalled because the premise got too unwieldy and the literary references got out of hand. (It did have a playlist I was quite fond of, with a number of Kinks songs including, presciently, A Well Respected Man). Because I am unlikely to ever finish it, I thought I'd just fic amnesty the whole thing here, so:

Cover Story

Trent is about to wind up stocktaking when the door to the bookshop bangs open. “We’re closed,” he calls irritably, and then he turns and sees who it is.

“I got something of a reading emergency,” says Ted Lasso.

Trent takes him in: breathing hard, collar askew, perspiration plastering a lick of hair against his forehead. In his hand is a gun. Trent recognises it as a Heckler & Koch P30L.

Trent ought to be going for his own weapon right about now. Instead he says: “So it is you.”

“Yep,” says Ted.

“I knew it,” hisses Trent. “I fucking knew it.”

“Boy, you sure do like to be right about stuff.” Ted pauses, then staggers. Trent sees that he is favouring his left side, and that the shirt beneath the puffer jacket is darkening with blood.

“Ted,” he begins, “wh – ”

“Like I said,” Ted grits out, “emergency.” And then he collapses in the middle of Trent’s bookshop.

Five weeks earlier

“You wouldn’t happen to have the latest John le Carré, would you?”

Trent has to climb a little ways down the ladder to see the man speaking to him. It’s one of the American tourists who wandered in after lunch. There are always Americans underfoot these days, trawling the aisles of the bookshop as if in hope of a meet-cute out of Notting Hill. Trent, as a rule, finds Americans tedious and does his level best to avoid them in all his lines of work; he achieves this in the bookshop by hiding in the stacks and leaving them to the tender mercies of his assistant. Unfortunately, this appears to be a particularly persistent specimen. Trent descends a few more rungs and braces himself.

“Is that the one with Brexit?”

“The one with the bookshop.” The American has a very distracting moustache. He looks almost exactly like a slide Trent once saw in Disguises 101: How Not To Overdo It. He is also wearing multiple layers beneath his puffer jacket, like some sort of Midwestern matryoshka, even though the shop’s heating is working perfectly well. Trent is automatically suspicious of customers with many layers, lest they are shoplifters. But a shoplifter would not go to such lengths to gain his attention.

“If you mean the posthumously published one, it’s not yet in stock. Shipping delays, I’m afraid.”

“Ain’t that a pity,” says the American. “I was sold on the premise. A bookshop that’s secretly a base for spy shenanigans? Tell me you don’t want to see how that turns out.”

Trent removes his glasses, keeping his expression bland. “You could put in an order, but if you’re not in town for long then I daresay there isn’t much point.”

“Oh, we’ll be here for a while. Long vacation. Thought we’d take it easy, like the Eagles would say. Though this ain’t Winslow, Arizona.”

“You can place an order with Miss Bowen at the counter,” says Trent, after he has cast about for a response to that string of gibberish and come up empty.

“You bet I will. If I could just – ” The American reaches out, and Trent almost breaks his wrist on instinct, but he simply brushes past Trent’s sleeve and pulls a secondhand copy of Call For The Dead off the shelf. “Maybe we ain’t see the last of le Carré, but at least it’s a first.”

“Ah, ha,” says Trent, to mask his surprise that they even have a copy of Call For The Dead in stock. It’s probably languished in here for years, unsold. “Good eye.”

“Well, I thank you for the consultation, Mr…”

“Crimm. Trent Crimm, The Independent.”

“Well, Trent, I appreciate you. Keep fighting the good fight.”

Trent blinks. “Against…?”

“Amazon,” says the American brightly. “Which, as an American, I apologise for.”

“Er, quite,” says Trent. “Sorry about Brexit, and all that.”

The American’s name on the order form is Ted Lasso, which makes him sound like a fictional character. He collects his bearded friend from the philosophy section and they depart, engaged in a discussion so animated that Lasso walks into the shop door, rebounds with no perceptible damage and continues his argument without missing a beat. Trent and Miss Bowen watch them go, mildly perplexed.

“Is he a subscriber? I don’t recognise either of them.”

“Just an ordinary customer, from the looks of it. He wanted to talk about books.”

“I suppose it must happen from time to time, in a bookshop,” says Miss Bowen dryly.

Trent crosses to her side of the counter, which is built in such a way that a customer, standing in line, would not be able to see what her hands might be doing. He leans down casually to check the automatic shotgun mounted under the countertop.

“He was talking about the new le Carré. It’s about spies in a bookshop, apparently.”

“Oh,” says Miss Bowen, eyebrow raised. “Is it now?”

“Yes,” says Trent. “We ought to get hold of it quite quickly, I think. In case there’s been a breach.”

“Come now.” She turns to him sharply. “Le Carré couldn’t have written a novel about us. I mean, he’d never been in the shop. We’d know, wouldn’t we?”

“I daresay we would, Miss Bowen. But put in the order anyway.”

“Certainly, Mr Crimm. And did you want new grenades on top of that?”

“I did, yes, thank you for reminding me.”

“Of course.” A pause. “We are quite sure that man wasn’t a subscriber, are we?”

Trent scoffs. “What, that guy? Come on.”

Trent’s childhood dream was to own a bookshop. He thought of bookshops as places where you could read all day and avoid people, which seemed like paradise. However, his family being who they were, his skills being what they were, the job market for English degree-holders being what it was – he spent a year at odd ends, haphazardly weighing the pursuit of postgraduate studies against attempting to break into the publishing industry, until finally he gave up and took the path he knew had always been there, lying in wait for him. He became a spy.

It was another fifteen years before he revisited the idea of the bookshop, in the wake of his abrupt and unceremonious retirement from the Circus. Cleis was one and a half years old by then, and he knew he must find something, for her sake – he had promised – even though he could not stomach the thought of going out in the cold again. He was mulling over his various options – heaven forfend he wind up in something horrible, like insurance – when his mother dropped by for tea and said peremptorily: “Mae is retiring, don’t you know?”

Mae – the only name anyone ever knew her by – was a veritable battleaxe who ran the Crown and Anchor, a pub that doubled up as the London station for agents of every stripe working in or passing through the city. The stations, by the unspoken rules that governed their universe, were neutral ground; they served every agency and freelancer without question and in turn brooked no conflict within their confines. To move against a station was to move against the combined powers of the rest of the agencies. Nobody had tried it in Trent’s lifetime.

“Oh?” said Trent. He was only partially listening to his mother; most of his attention was focused on trying to get Cleis to keep her yoghurt in her mouth. “Who’s taking over, then?”

His mother fixed him with the glare she had honed on some of the finest intelligencers this side of the Atlantic, as well as his teenage self. “I rather thought you might throw your hat in the ring, dear.”

Cleis mawed at her in surprise and dribbled watery yoghurt down her bib. Trent sighed. “I’ll talk to Mae.”

Mae thought it was a ridiculous notion to run a station as a bookshop. “You wouldn’t catch half that lot dead in a bookshop,” was her take on it. “Who has time for reading these days? And you’ll have to get in books! Actual books!”

“That’s rather the idea, yes,” said Trent. “It can’t be harder than maintaining a liquor licence.”

“Well, it’s not like I was going to hand the tender over to anyone else,” admits Mae. “What will you call it, love?”

Trent considered. “The Independent. Because that’s what it is.”

Even Mae had to admit, a few years in, that it was working out quite well. He’d even managed to sell some books.

“How’s the le Carré?” Miss Bowen asks, amid her reshelving. “Are we in trouble?”

“I don’t think so.” Trent is perusing Silverview at the counter, book in one hand, the other on the rifle. “The bookshop’s in East Anglia, and the protagonist hasn’t the first idea how to run it.”

“Oh, well then,” says Miss Bowen. “It will put nobody in mind of us at all. Is it any good? I’m always wary of these late discovery manuscripts. I don’t think I ever got over the disappointment of Go Set A Watchman.”

“It’s unevenly weighted. Makes you miss him at his best.” Trent turns a page. “Still, I’m glad he didn’t go gentle into that good night.”

He tenses as the shop bell rings, then sees that it is Keeley Jones, resplendent in a fluffy yellow coat. “What can we do for you, Miss Jones?”

“Trading in,” sings Keeley. “On Jamie’s behalf.”

Trent takes off his glasses and gives her a forbidding look. “What, has he gone and lost the lot again?”

Keeley winces. “Only some of it.”

Trent sighs. “Let’s get it processed in the back.”

Jamie Tartt is one of the stars of the agency known as the Dogtrack. He’s also aggravatingly cocky and spectacularly laissez-faire with his equipment; Keeley’s always in here, making apologies for him having thrown his Glock into a volcano, or something. Trent has no patience for the likes of Jamie Tartt. One already has so many people trying to kill one in this line of work, but there he is, giving even more people reasons to want him dead.

The back room is behind a reinforced steel door that can only be opened using either Trent’s or Miss Bowen’s fingerprints and a passcode that changes every day. The passcode is in fact a rolling alphanumerical series that progresses through the entirety of Hamlet, and if anyone ever cracks it, Trent will be very impressed by their grasp of Shakespeare. In the back room, Trent lays out the remnants of Jamie Tartt’s mission kit and purses his lips.

“To lose one dart gun, Miss Jones, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness.”

“Oh, you needn’t have a go at me, I’m proper mad at him myself. You know what he did last week? Tried to murder Roy Kent. Roy Kent!”

“What, for work?”

“Not even that! Some kind of fucking…pissing contest.” Keeley makes a noise of exasperation. “Some days it’s like we gave a bunch of five-year-olds guns and let them loose on a jungle gym. You know what I mean?”

“I’ll just put it on his tab,” says Trent. “Which is astronomical, by the way.”

“I’ll chivvy the folks at the Dogtrack to send you a cover. Only they’re rushed off their feet this week – you must have heard.”

Trent has heard, but it always serves one in intelligence gathering to pretend to know less than one really does. “What’s happening over there?”

“The Mannions are going to war,” says Keeley, her voice lush with the juice of gossip - another reason why Trent likes having her in the shop. “The whole Dogtrack’s splitting up. Christ, but it’s a mess down there.”

“Who’s Jamie backing?”

“Hasn’t decided. Rupert’s putting it about that the whole agency’s going with him, but word on the street is that Rebecca Welton’s brought in someone from abroad to take him out. They’re saying it’s an American.” She sucks in an excited breath.

“Why would you bring in an American for that?” demands Trent.

“Beats me. It’s going to keep us all on our toes for a bit, to be sure. I reckon it’s some Tom Cruise type, all Mission Impossible Jack Reacher like. But nobody knows for certain.”

“Surely not,” says Trent. “You at least must have some idea, Miss Jones.”

Keeley flutters her eyelashes at him. “Who, me? I’m just a humble secretary.”

“Of course you are,” says Trent. “And I’m just a poor bookseller.”

Keeley slants a sly look at him. “You haven’t seen any Americans around, have you?”

“We get Americans in the store all the time. Just this morning we had a Mrs Glenda Johnson from South Carolina complaining that we don’t have a café in the store.”

“Yeah,” says Keeley, “fairly sure it’s not Mrs Glenda Johnson. Isn’t there a Costa two doors down?”

“Precisely,” says Trent. “Americans.”

They return to the front of the store, the afternoon light streaming across the polished wood floors and touching the book covers. “It really is awful pretty, when the light’s good,” says Keeley, running a hand across a row of Sally Rooneys. “You know what you ought to do? You should do #BookTok.”

“That,” says Trent, “is the single worst suggestion I’ve ever heard.”

Keeley laughs. “Give me a pot of money and some Madeline Miller and I’ll do it for you. I’ll make you so famous, you’ll be beating influencers off with a stick.”

“Just tell the Dogtrack to pay for your boyfriend’s damage.”

Keeley sticks her tongue out as she swings out of the shop. “If you see the American, you’ll tell me first. Won’t you?”

“Tell me a story,” says Cleis. They’re curled up in her bed, her tiny frame pillowed against his side.

“You’ve had two already.”

“But I want another.” Cleis looks up at him, her eyes clear and green as the sea. “Tell me about Maman.”

Trent stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that speckle her bedroom ceiling. Tell me about a complicated woman, he hears Coralie say in his head. She sounds slightly amused. This is an anachronism, of course. Coralie never lived to see the Emily Wilson translation of The Odyssey. She would have loved it.

“Where do I start with your mother?”

“Was she very beautiful?”

“Yes. She knew exactly how beautiful she was and what to do with it.”

“Do I look like her?”

“The spitting image.” Even at four, Cleis looks so much like her mother that Trent will sometimes look over at her, in the middle of something mundane like making dinner or brushing her hair, and the resemblance will strike him like a punch to the gut.

Cleis is pleased by this. “What else?”

“Well. She loved old poems, and she was a lot stronger than she looked, and she wasn’t scared of a thing. Never listened to anyone either.”

“Not even you?”

“I like to think she listened to me a bit more than most other people,” allows Trent, “but even that wasn’t very much.”

Cleis kneads her quilt between her small hands. “Why didn’t she come back?”

Trent swallows. “She couldn’t. She had to save everyone.” Including me, he doesn’t add. Instead he says: “She loved you more than anything in the world.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me so. It was the last thing she said, before – ” Trent stops. Cleis is silent.

“Go to sleep now, chouette.”

It’s another hour before she drifts off to sleep proper. He sits in the dark, her hand tucked in his, until she does.

“So that’s your subscriber number, which you should quote in all correspondence with us and over the phone when placing orders. Orders placed within less than twenty-four hours of pick-up will be subject to last-minute fee increments. Is that understood, Mr Rojas?”

The lush-haired young man beams at Trent across the counter. “Si, entiendo.”

“Book club notices are posted on the board to the right,” Trent goes on. “Those are for freelancers, I don’t vet them personally and you attend book club at your own risk. This is for your first assignment.” He hands over a copy of Roberto Bolaño’s 2666. Dani Rojas makes to open it; Trent slams it shut. “Don’t open your books in the store.”

“Okay,” says Dani, wide-eyed. He hefts the book experimentally in his hand. “It is very heavy. Does it have a happy ending?”

Trent snorts. “It’s a Bolaño, what do you think?”

Dani nods cheerfully. “I thank you for this, señor. Literature is life.”

“I mean, it actually isn’t,” says Trent, “which is sort of the whole point – but never mind. All the best, Mr Rojas.”

Dani leaves, whistling. He passes Roy Kent on his way in. “He’s not the American, is he?” says Roy, not quite sotto voce to Trent.

“I rather think he’s Mexican,” says Trent. “Are you all still going on about that? I’d have thought you’d have worked it out by now.”

“Nah,” says Roy. “No idea who it is. Mrs Mannion – that is to say, Ms Welton – is keeping her cards close to her chest. Old Rupert’s foaming at the mouth. They say he’s got hold of some kind of leverage, but fucked if we know what.” He studies the noticeboard. “Anything good at book club?”

“What, are you freelancing now?”

“Reckon I might as well, since it’s all going to shit at the Dogtrack.” Roy frowns at A Moveable Feast, Wednesday 8pm; A Gentleman In Moscow, Thursday 7pm; and Vengeance Is Mine, All Others Pay Cash, Thursday 9pm. He points at the last. “Where’s that one again?”

“East Java. I hear Indonesia’s nice this time of year.”

“Right, let’s give it a go then.”

Trent scribbles down a number on a Post-It and hands it to Roy. “Call it and burn it. You know the drill.”

“Cheers.” Roy regards Trent, brows thickly furrowed. “You’ve seen the American, haven’t you?”

“No comment.”

Roy grunts. “Bet you have. You’re just being a prick about it, as usual.”

“Whoever it is, they’re probably out in the community already,” says Trent. “Bravely or stupidly.”

“Stupidly,” decides Roy, stalking off.

The problem with The Independent is that, despite Trent’s best efforts and the imminently prophesied demise of brick-and-mortar bookselling, it still continues to be a fairly popular bookshop. Trent has no idea why this is. He puts zero effort into the window displays. He shelves the books in no discernible order, so it is virtually impossible for a customer to locate anything. Sometimes he even leaves terrible TripAdvisor reviews for himself, to discourage casual browsers and tourists. And yet the shop continues to see customers – not subscribers, actual book-loving civilians. People keep popping in to have opinions on how Trent should run his bookshop, to complain that he doesn’t sell stationery or upbraid him for not carrying the latest Stephenie Meyer or insinuate that he should hold poetry readings (of their poems) in the store. It’s a marvel that Trent has gone all these years without shooting anyone in the face.

Still, the shop has regulars somehow. There are the subscribers, and then there are normal people who just show up and spend ages browsing, even though Trent has made sure there is nowhere comfortable for them to sit. There is the elderly gent who pops in nearly every morning to thumb through books and point out printing errors to anyone unfortunate enough to be in proximity. There is the teenage girl who spends afternoons seated cross-legged in an aisle, reading The Sandman in instalments. And then there’s Ted Lasso.

“Why’d you call it The Independent?” Ted wants to know. He’s come back to pick up his copy of Silverview, and despite having achieved this with little incident, has nevertheless once more sought out Trent where he is dusting the shelves.

“Because it is an independent bookstore,” says Trent, who is in fact sweeping for bugs. He finds one planted atop a birding guide and surreptitiously crushes and pockets it. “Can I help you with anything else, Mr Lasso?”

“I was wondering where I might find your Graham Greene.”

“I believe we have The Quiet American somewhere in the shop, if you can bear to wait while I excavate it. Though,” adds Trent, “you are a distinctly unquiet American.”

“You can say that again,” says Ted cheerfully. “You wouldn’t happen to have a copy of The Third Man, would you?”

Most people haven’t even seen The Third Man, let alone are aware that it was based on a Graham Greene novella. “You know your spy fiction, Mr Lasso.”

“Call me Ted, won’t you?”

Trent drags the ladder around the corner and retrieves The Third Man from a high shelf near where the ceiling dips. He looks down, head tilted, at the man beaming up at him from the foot of the ladder. You’ve seen the American, haven’t you? Ted Lasso does not look like the kind of American called in to bring down the head of an agency. He looks like a caricature of an American. He has worn the same pair of khakis every time he has set foot in this shop and it is likely he does so without irony. Yet Trent has the feeling that something is off, the way that shots in The Third Man are framed at a slight angle so that the city looks like a painting knocked askew.

Ted clears his throat. “Kinda staring there, Trent. Makes a fella wonder if he ain’t got toothpaste in his moustache.”

Trent hands over the book. “Why are you here, Ted? Really?”

“First thing I always do when I land in a new place is find a local bookstore,” says Ted brightly. “Tells you a lot about the town, your local bookstore.”

Trent takes off his glasses. “And what, pray, have you learnt from this one?”

“That nothing is where you think it’ll be,” says Ted. “But it sure helps if you ask for directions.”

“Perhaps you should ask him if he wants to get coffee,” says Miss Bowen after Ted has left. “Isn’t that why you hired me? So you could have more of a social life?”

Trent pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hired you so that in the event of a terrorist attack on the shop, we wouldn’t be short-handed.”

“I’m glad you did. It was this or go back to teaching kindergarten.” She raises her voice sharply as a man in a denim jacket emerges from behind a shelf and shuffles towards the door. “Stop right there!”

“Uh,” says the man intelligently. “What’s this about?”

“We have CCTV in the shop, you know,” says Miss Bowen. “So we’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave the shop with Jonathan Franzen stuffed down your trousers.”

The man leers. “Like to come over and check on it yourself, love?”

Miss Bowen meditatively flicks open the boxcutter she was using to trim plastic wrap. “You know, I just might.”

The man hastily removes the Franzen. “All right, no need to get all shirty about it. I’ll just put it back then.”

“The fuck you will, we’re not touching that again,” says Miss Bowen. “You’re going to leave twenty quid on the counter – with your other hand, mind – and then you’re going to back out the door and never come back.”

“Can’t do that in kindergarten, can you,” remarks Trent after their errant customer has complied and made himself scarce.

“There’s something to be said about the job satisfaction in this place,” agrees Miss Bowen.

Trent arrives at his parents’ just in time to see his daughter stabbing his father in the front garden.

“Ah! Ah! Alas!” cries his father, sinking dramatically into the grass as Cleis bashes him joyously with a foam sword. “You’ve got me, dread pirate!”

“Did you kill grandpa, chouette?” says Trent as she greets him by thwacking him on the shins with her sword.

“Three times,” says Cleis modestly as she is scooped up.

“She’s a bloodthirsty one.” His father is rising ponderously to his feet, brushing grass stains off his knees. He dotes on Cleis in a fashion that was distinctly lacking in Trent’s own childhood. Trent still cannot get over the incongruity of it – the legendary Chester Crimm, scourge of the Stasi Circle, playing pirates on the lawn with a four-year-old. He does have the eyepatch for it, Trent reflects.

His father turns his good eye towards Trent. “Sell a lot of books today, son?”

“Hilarious,” says Trent shortly. “Where’s mum?”

“Getting her hair done.” They head back into the house. “What’s this I’m hearing about an American at the Dogtrack?”

“Christ, I’m sick of hearing about the American. How’d that even get to you?”

“I was at poker night with the old guard. It’s all everyone’s talking about, the Mannion split.” His father pulls a beer from the fridge and hands it to Trent as Cleis makes for the living room television. “Never liked Mannion. Did you know he tried to get off with your mother, back in the day?”

“Ugh,” says Trent faintly.

“That was before he got mixed up with the Welton girl, of course,” says his father with the alacrity of the generation who can get away with calling Rebecca “the Welton girl”. “The agencies are such a shitshow these days. You know, back in my day – ”

“By all means,” says Trent mordantly, “reminisce about the Cold War, dad. What a splendid time that was.”

“You know what I mean,” his father grumbles. “People just got divorced and got on with things. Didn’t go about involving Americans. You’ve not seen the American, have you? Why are you laughing?”

“I’m just thinking of the rhyme,” says Trent. “From The Scarlet Pimpernel.” At his father’s blank look, he recites: “They seek him here, they seek him there, those people seek him everywhere! Is he in heaven or in hell? That damned elusive Pimpernel.”

“Damned!” exclaims Cleis from the doorway. “Damned, damned, damned!”

Trent stares at her, aghast. “Now look what you’ve done,” says his father.

Ted isn’t in the shop today, though his bearded friend has put in an appearance. He has only ever been referred to as Beard, and Trent is coming round to the idea that it might actually be the man’s Christian name, because who even knows with Americans? He’s browsing in the back, which is fine, and has been engaged for the past fifteen minutes in a conversation with Jane Payne, which is not so fine.

“Should we say something?” Miss Bowen wonders.

“We are The Independent,” says Trent. “We have a policy of non-interference.”

“I mean, she’s literally toxic. Did you see the photos from her Dubai job?”

“No. Jesus. Why are there even photos?”

Miss Bowen shrugs. “No idea. Everyone’s been sending them around in the group chats. Did not know you could get blood that colour.”

“Miss Payne can do what she likes, provided she does it outside the shop.” Trent pauses. “Though you could ask him if he wants to get coffee.”

“No thank you,” says Miss Bowen. “I have no wish to be stabbed in the pancreas by Jane Payne.”

They are distracted by the shop bell. Trent is surprised and slightly disconcerted to see none other than Rebecca Welton bearing down upon the counter in all her glory. The agency heads rarely visit the shop in person; Trent typically corresponds with Mr Higgins for the Dogtrack’s interests.

“Ms Welton. What can we do for you?”

“I’d like to see your Canterbury Tales special edition,” says Rebecca without preamble.

Trent blinks. “Certainly. This way.”

In the back room, he opens the case where the Chaucer collection is stored. Rebecca begins looking it over critically. She hefts a rocket launcher experimentally, testing its weight. “Which one is this?”

“The Wife of Bath. Gives you five shots.”

“Hm,” says Rebecca approvingly. “I rather like the sound of that.” She inspects the double-barrelled shotgun dubbed the Man of Law and the poison darts of the Pardoner. “I’ll take the lot for the rest of the month.”

“That’s a lot of firepower,” says Trent bluntly. “You’re not trying to kill your husband, are you?”

“I don’t know why you’d say that, Mr Crimm. Though I suspect he might be trying to kill me.”

“Is it all for you? Or is any of it for the American?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Rebecca, expression immaculate. “Do invoice Mr Higgins.”

“Darling,” says Trent in long-suffering tones, “please get out of the tree.”

Cleis responds by clambering to a higher branch. She’ll be a while. Trent sighs and puts his hands on his hips, gazing out across the green. It’s a pleasant Sunday morning in the park, though it doesn’t stop him from tracking every jogger and picnicking couple in the vicinity, combing the milieu for hands in pockets and inside coats, calculating distances and trajectories.

His gaze moves across and catches on a lone jogger making his way up the path in their direction. That’s Ted Lasso, he’s sure of it: head down, shoulders hunched against the bite of wind off the water, but there’s no mistaking that moustache. As Trent watches, he raises his head and their eyes meet. He does a very convincing double-take. He’s either genuinely surprised to see Trent here, or his acting skills are commendable. That Trent can’t tell says a lot. Then his face splits into a broad grin.

“Hey there, Trent Crimm, The Independent!”

“Hello, Ted Lasso from America.” Trent eyes Ted as he jogs over, beaming affably. He waves his hand awkwardly. “You…live around here?”

“Oh yeah, Beard and I have digs around here. Like to come out for a run on the weekends.”

“Your vacation is stretching on rather,” Trent informs him.

“Oh, we picked up some work,” says Ted evasively. “Thought we’d stick around, make hay while the sun shines. Though you ain’t got a whole lot of hay around these parts. Not like what I’m used to, at any rate.”

“What sort of work do you do, Ted?”

“Human resources,” says Ted blandly.

Trent removes his glasses and fixes Ted with a searching look. Ted meets his gaze, perfectly amiable. Trent narrows his eyes. Ted doesn’t blink. The whole effect is ruined when Cleis leaps out of the tree unannounced and tumbles onto him.

“Oh for f – ” Trent bites off invective as he staggers. “For the last time, my love, climb down.”

“But this is faster,” says Cleis innocently. She appears to notice Ted, and peers at him curiously as Trent sets her down.

“Well hey there, sweetheart,” says Ted. “What’s your name?”

“Cleis.”

“Fais attention,” says Trent, more sharply than is his wont. Cleis stiffens and tucks herself behind his knee. She always takes her cues from him, and he realises too late his body language has been telescoping an ease with Ted that he should not have brooked. She has never introduced herself to a stranger before.

Ted must pick up on some of that, because he stops short of coming over, instead maintaining the distance between them and crouching down till he is at Cleis’s eye level. “That’s a real pretty name,” he tells her. “It’s from a poem, ain’t it?”

“Sappho.” Trent’s throat feels tight.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” says Ted. “Like a small golden flower. Did you name her?”

“No,” says Trent. “That was her mother. She's – she liked the classics.”

On Trent’s first mission to Morocco, he was paired with a young agent with a French accent and a Classics degree. The former was nearly imperceptible except when she was under pressure; the latter was of no use whatsoever on the mission, any more than Trent’s own English degree was.

“You’re gay, aren’t you?” she said after they had spent four minutes making out pointedly in an alcove to distract the security guards of the Casablanca mansion they were breaking into.

“I’m afraid so,” said Trent, picking a lock.

“That’s a relief. I was worried I was losing my touch.” The lock clicked open, and she whistled appreciatively. “Sing to me, Muse, of the man of twists and turns.”

“The Odyssey? Really?” Trent was secretly delighted that he was no longer the only one pretentious enough to quote classics during a field op. Or Casablanca in Casablanca, even.

She winked at him. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Her name was Coralie Chénier, though they called her “the Owl”. Trent used to envy her this; everyone, despite his best efforts, referred to him as “Chester’s boy”. Then came the Cuba incident, which was such a bloodbath that it earned Trent the moniker “the Jackal”. After that he decided monikers were overrated. At least they matched: the Owl and the Jackal.

Coralie was an orphan – the service preferred either orphans, or those to the manor born, like Trent – and so for the ten years they spent in the field, he was the closest thing she had to next of kin. It was him she told first about Cleis.

“The father?”

She waved a hand dismissively – not in the picture, then. She did not say who it was. Trent knew it to be a crowded field.

“Are you keeping it?”

“I shouldn’t, should I? It’ll take me out of the field for a good stretch.” But he already knew, from the way she rested her hand over her still-flat stomach, that she would.

“I could marry you, if you liked,” he offered.

She laughed. “That’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me, darling. But I think I’ll be just fine.”

The last thing she said to him, before she pulled out her comm and charged back into a building rigged with explosives, was: “Promise me you’ll look after her.”

“There must be another way – ”

“I’ve got to do this, Trent,” she said, too gently. “Make sure she knows how much I loved her. All Croesus’ kingdom.”

“I promise – ” but by then she was already gone.

“I’m sorry,” says Ted, bringing Trent back to the present. His hand tightens on the shoulder of Coralie’s daughter.

“Thank you,” he says, for lack of anything better.

“Heck of a poem,” Ted adds.

“Oh yes,” says Trent. I wouldn’t take all Croesus’ kingdom with love thrown in, for her.

#wip ask game #ted lasso #trent crimm #ted x trent #ted lasso/trent crimm #tedependent #rebecca welton #coach beard #keeley jones #roy kent #dani rojas #miss bowen #long post

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gingerylangylang1979 · 10 months

Text

This shit is not new

This is in response to the multiple posts right now about the recent articles that have come out and just general angst about this ship in the media.

This really isn't new. It's not unique to The Bear. It's not unique to Carmy x Sydney. It's not unique to slow burns.

I do think Mulder x Scully is the best example. Why? They are the ship that modernized shipping. The terms shipping, noromo, etc. come from that ship. They pioneered the modern "why can't men and women just be friends", "platonic soulmate", "it would cheapen the show", "the show isn't about romance" arguments.

Syd x Carmy are like Mulder x Scully 2.0 (with a slightly different flavor that I will get to). The X-Files was a huge sleeper hit with a cult following. From the first episode there was speculation about romance and people raging against it. The question was brought up in every interview and denied by the show runner. The intensity kept developing until finally they went canon. And then, only then, did the show runner change tune. Shippers felt they were being persecuted for even mentioning the ship. It was super intense.

I watched the show as a teen. I low key did ship them but wasn't involved in fandom so I wasn't aware of the shenanigans. But I know all of this from first hand accounts.

And here's receipts from media:

So, I know a big element is missing in this comparison. The race element is at play here. I'm not denying that. But I will say, I started with this example just to show it isn't just interracial couples that get this backlash. I could also mention Ted x Rebecca, but I don't think I need to go into them because they are current. Mulder x Scully started this and history is important.

I do think there is a special flavor of dislike for this ship because of race. I've spoken on it. The unwarranted hate for Sydney can't be ignored. The same has happened with Richonne, Ichabbie, etc. No denial here. But if you look at the overall history of shipping what we are seeing specific to media denial, media scrutiny, antis, denial of the ship until the very end, gaslighting, etc. is slow burn and shipping war 101.

There is no agenda from cast and crew to stick it to us. Their agenda is to maintain the element of surprise and tell the story they want to tell. There is no agenda from the media to do anything but get a story that gets clicks. There is no special denial of a romance unique to this one.

This is just how a slow burn plays out.

There are no slow burns that went canon and the show runner said, oh yeah, this is the plan before the end. If there is tell me, and I'll gladly correct. But, that just isn't reality. They will say the same thing every season until it happens, no matter what happens on screen in the meantime. And there is always some lame statement made about why they "suddenly" decided to make it a thing or a lame admission that it was planned. So basically, they lie. The lies may seem cruel but it's not personal. It's not some secret agenda to deny your fave romance and happiness. It's just showbiz.

All of this can feel personal in relation to the extent a fan is personally invested. And I think that's up to each person to decide if their investment is creating too high an expectation and too much drama for regarding fictional characters on a tv show. That's not on media. It's not on the actor, creators, journalists, etc. to determine and protect a fan's level of investment or engagement. Nobody has to read the articles. Nobody has to devote their time to fandom. It's a choice. And part of that, may be understanding that all of the media around a ship isn't going to cater to what you want or see and making decisions on what you see is the healthiest, most enjoyable way to engage or not.

Because feelings have been hurt, arguments have raged, lies have been told in fandom and media and it's not new, it's not personal. It just is what it is.

Mulder x Scully walked so Carmy x Sydney can run.

#the x files #mulder x scully #carmy x sydney #syd x carmen #chefs kiss #shipping discourse

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catta1ll · 4 months

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You're absolutely obnoxious. Did you ever ask Yoyle to stop? Instead, you're vaguing about them and putting it IN the tag as well? Stop trying to start stupid fandom wank and block them, you're not the innocent one here. Don't think I don't see you complaining and naming them in tags in other posts. That's a form of harassment, too.

hiya there anon

yes i had asked yoyle to stop. i had even asked why they were doing this, and their only excuse was that it was a hyperfixation and never responded back

secondly, i was putting it in the tag for the rest of the geno artists to see. there have also been people contacted who don’t even know who geno is (a homestuck account and cherryfennec) and that’s really just a lack of boundaries.

i have done four separate posts about yoyle before bringing the situation to light, two vaguely and two direct. one of them was shock realizing the oc they had sent in my geno ask blog was actually a ship of their own. now, i have no problem with oc x canon, and that was a reaction of my own. that has nothing to do with the constant questions of repeated topics

i have talked with other tumblr users and people who browse the tag on discord, and they all felt the same way. the situation had gone dormant for too long, and i felt the need to address it publicly.

and now, about harassment; behavior that annoys or troubles someone

i haven’t insulted yoyle in anyway and have only discussed the fault that they’ve done, i have not been in their dms or any of the like. yoyle, however has been in multiple asks and accounts asking the same question. either with “geno sleeping, geno in pajamas, geno as a mermaid” to name the more prominent ones

im not trying to start anything either, again this has been a dormant issue and no one had spoken about it, it was about time someone did

if this explanation wasn’t enough for you feel free to keep asking, or maybe a simple block would do just fine so we can both go along our way

thanks 4 listening to my ted talk

#geno #geno smrpg #mario #smrpg #super mario rpg #drama #tw harassment #anon ask #explained

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