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kelcemenow · 5 months

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Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 9.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2056

Warnings A little bit of strong language and a little bit of angst.

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

Your feet pounded the damp pavement, the earthy scent of rainfall thick in the air. You weren't 100% sure what you were going to say when you saw Travis, or even why you were heading to his place, but you figured the walk would help set your thoughts straight.

You pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead, closing your eyes for a second as you waited at the crosswalk, letting the traffic sounds of the street fade into the back of your mind. You had only known Travis for a couple of weeks, a handful of dates summarising what was still a very early relationship. If it could even be classed as a relationship.

He was charming, he was kind and gave you all of the attention that you could ever want.

But your lives were completely different.

Travis would spend his days giving interviews, recording his popular podcast and managing his successful and varied career and would spend his evenings in bars and clubs, being photographed rubbing shoulders with other well-known and high profile celebrities in designer outfits. You spent your days in overalls fixing cars and your evenings trying to clean the motor oil from your hair.

As the rain began to fall heavier, you pulled your sweatshirt hood over your head, pulling the edges of the fabric hard and clinging to them as if it was only thing holding you together. You checked the street signs ahead of you and continued in your way, staring down at the pavement to avoid to heavy raindrops that were falling hard from the gray sky above you.

The streets became quieter and the houses began to look bigger and more expensive. Travis' neighbourhood was quaint and humble, but still impressive, the sidewalks edged with a neat line of trees. You pulled your phone from your sweatshirt pocket, checking the address again and trying to focus on the house numbers as the raindrops built up onto the top of your cheeks.

You squinted further up the road to a house slightly set back from the sidewalk, large with brown roof tiles and a wide road that led to a double doored entrance. Nervously, you fidgeted with your fingers as you approached the house. You noticed a few vehicles scattered around the driveway and a well kept garden that looped around the property. Your wet hands rubbed against your soaked sweatshirt as you tentatively approached the door, your eyes fixated on the frosted glass panels. As your feet reached the top of the handful of stone steps, your heart instantly began beating faster and faster. Quickly clearing your throat, your shaking hands knocked firmly on the door and your chest swelled as you took a slow and deep breath.

Footsteps grew louder on the other side of the door and before you had chance to change your mind and turn away, the door opened and a blonde woman sporting glasses and a tight, black dress stared blankly at you. Your eyes darted to the house number that was displayed on the wall next to you and then towards your phone screen, confirming that you were at the correct house.

"Uhhh...sorry. I thought this...I mean-I'm sorry." You mumbled as you began to turn around, your chest filling with embarrassment. Of course he was seeing someone else.

"Y/N?" A voice called out.

You glanced around over your shoulder to see Travis making his way through a small gathering of people towards the doorway.

You smiled meekly, making uncomfortable eye contact with the group, "Travis? Sorry...I-"

"What are you doing here?"

You exhaled an awkward laugh and shook your head, "I don't really know."

His eyebrows lowered as he reached for your hands, "Is everything okay?"

You watched as his thumbs ran over the damp skin on back of your oil marked hands before looking up to see the pristine and glamourous blonde woman leaning on the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. You opened your mouth to speak but Travis ushered you away from the house.

"I'm filming a piece for Jason's documentary." He nodded towards the house and your eyes followed to see the crew of people looking in your direction. Lights and cameras were scattered around the room and a man appeared in the doorway holding a clipboard.

Your hands flew to your face, your wet hair plastered over your forehead, "I'm so stupid. You're so right, what am I doing here?"

Travis' lips curled downwards, his expression confused and mystified, before he smiled and pulled you closer to him, "It's fine, just come in. I'll get you some dry clothes and we can hang as soon as it's finished?"

"No, this is ridiculous." You shook your head and stepped away from Travis' grasp, "Thank you Travis, but I am so stupid."

He reached out for you again, "Why do you keep saying that? It's not a big deal?"

You retreated from him, stepping carefully down the remaining steps as you avoided eye contact with Travis, "I am so sorry I bothered you, Travis."

You pulled your sweatshirt hood tighter around your head, muffling whatever Travis called out to you and power walked away from the house, a mixture of raindrops and tears staining your cheeks.

______________________________________________________________

"Ahh...fuck!" You winced, sucking the air into your mouth through your teeth. Looking at your red fingertip, you noticed a small purple welt beginning to form thanks to the bolt that slipped from your grip.

You rolled your eyes, gripping your injured digit before leaning down back under the hood of the classic white Camaro that you were currently working on. It had been a week since you had seen Travis and in an attempt to forget about the situation, you had thrown yourself into your work, spending every hour you could at the garage.

As you brought your finger to your mouth to stem the blood that had started to emerge, you felt the car dip as someone rested their weight against the door.

"You need a break."

You tipped your head to see your Dad using a cloth to clean some oil from a large wrench. Bowing your head back down, you wiped your finger on your overalls and continued working, "No, I need to finish this turbo."

"I could take a look at it, if you want?" His voice was thick with concern.

Gripping the bolt again, you grimaced as the pressure caused a sharp pain to rush to your small injury, "I'm perfectly capable of doing it by myself."

Your Dad chuckled at your independence, a trait he had always admired, "I didn't say you weren't."

You stayed silent, aside from a short sigh when you had eventually managed to tighten the bolt adequately.

"Has he contacted you?"

"Dad-"

"No, Sport. Here me out."

You emerged from the hood, dropping it closed and walking to the open drivers side door as your Dad followed you around the vehicle.

"Has he contacted you?"

"Yes, he has. Every day this week, not that it matters." You said as you started the car, hearing the gentle purr of the engine.

"Okay." Your Dad pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly, "Look, I've never been the type of Father to tell you what to do, and I'm not about to start now. But I do think you're letting something really good go." He turned to walk away before stopping himself, "And I'm not just saying that because it's Travis Kelce."

You smiled and watched through the car windshield window as he strolled back into the garage office, his high pitched whistle fading from your ears.

______________________________________________________________

It was late and the garage was silent, aside from the occasional car passing by on the street. You dumped a handful of dirty rags into the hamper next to the office door and reached for the light switch, immersing the room into darkness.

You used the small amount of light beaming in from the office window to guide yourself to the large gray roller door that filled the wall. Turning the small metal key in the lock, you watched as the door began to descend. It had almost fully closed when you heard the sound of a car engine over the sound of the door motor. Beams of light peeped from underneath the bottom of door, brightness spilling out onto the smooth concrete floor.

You rolled your eyes and turned the key in the opposite direction, squinting and shielding your eyes from the gleam of the headlamps, "I'm sorry, buddy. We're closed...we actually closed a few hours ago."

A large figure stepped out of the vehicle but you struggled to identify it.

"Dude, did you not hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you." A familiar voice echoed in your ears, "But I ain't here for a service."

"Travis?"

As he stepped closer to you, the lights illuminated his face which was uncharacteristically covered in black smears. His usually pristine denim jeans were ripped in several places and a clear oily handprint was slapped across the right thigh. Your eyes drifted upwards to see his white t-shirt coated in stains of varying shapes, colours and sizes. He grinned at you, picking up a rag from the floor that you had missed and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Need some help?"

You narrowed your eyes, a small smirk growing on your face, "From you?

Travis looked around the room and shrugged his shoulders, glancing at the numerous cars and tools, "I could learn?"

"Travis, what are you-"

Before you had chance to finish your sentence, he stepped forward quickly and kissed you, his arms snaking around your waist. You melted into his hold, allowing his soft lips to move across yours and your hands to float up to the sides of his face. His thick stubble prickled against your fingertips, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you just as it did the first time.

He pulled away from you slowly, studying your expression, "Sorry, I just had to do that."

Your eyes drifted to the floor before closing shut whilst you took a deep breath. You focused in on the butterflies that were dancing in your stomach, trying to find the words that you wanted to say.

"You didn't reply to any of my messages."

His eyes were full of hurt and confusion and you suddenly felt a pang of guilt fill your chest, "I know. I needed to think."

One of Travis' hands ran up your side to cup your cheek, "About what? About us?"

"Yeah." You sighed, "I just don't know if we fit right. Although, I must say, you'd fit in here looking like that."

His eyes glinted, "You see? If I can fit in your world, you can certainly fit in mine."

You looked up, "I don't know if I can do it. The photographers, the online comments, I like my privacy, Travis."

"What online comments?"

"I saw something on Instagram, there was a photo of us and people...people had a lot to say about our relationship...or whatever it is." Tears began to pool against your lower lashes.

Travis held onto you tighter, "You shouldn't read that shit. I sure as hell don't! People are assholes, baby."

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against Travis' warm chest.

He continued, his large hand stroking the back of your head, "And if you want privacy, we can do that. You have the right to live your life however you want to, but I want you in mine."

Your heart jumped, a sudden overwhelm of emotion flooding you. You lifted up your head and breathed a laugh as a couple of tears ran down your cheeks, "I want you in my life too."

Travis' eyes creased into nothing, his smile as wide as it could possibly be, "So, that's settled then? Now, which of these car's needs my expertise?"

You threw your head back as you howled with laughter, throwing your arms around his neck and allowing him to take your weight. Your feet lifted from the ground and your lips crashed against his, this time a much deeper and passionate kiss, his fingers sinking into your flesh as if he never wanted to let go. Without breaking contact, you reached across and turned the key, shutting out the outside world.

______________________________________________________________

And it's done! This one has been my Everest! But thank you to everyone for their encouraging words and positivity! I hope this final chapter lives up to expectation!

I'll be scouring through my requests now and looking at doing some one-shots in the next few weeks to hopefully clear the list that has built up! I'll put a post out when my requests are open again!

If you want to be included in my Taglist, let me know and you'll never miss another fic from me (although don't be alarmed if there's a bit of a wait, that's my new style now apparently!)

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canonical-transformation · 24 days

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can you explain columbina's whole deal? abt the like biblically accurate stuff

or even just like point me at where people seem to get their information abt the harbringers that have yet to appear, cuz i feel like i keep up with the lore pretty decently but then people talk abt sandrone or columbina and im like where is this info from...

this might just be a skill issue on my part tho

For Columbina, you're not missing too much. As far as I know, the only direct canon mentions of her are voice lines from other Harbingers, plus the Winter Night's Lazzo trailer.

So what we know about Columbina mostly comes down to:

she's named after a commedia dell'arte stock character — but after seeing harbingers 4+6+8+11 I'd say this doesn't tell us very much about her beyond the "dove" theming

she has dove + angel wing imagery

she spends Lazzo singing in a slightly fourth wall breaking way, and otherwise says nothing

her eyes are covered

Arlecchino says she's interesting to talk to. Wanderer says she seems very detached from whatever situation she's in... and that the Traveller might feel bad about fighting her.

Tartaglia says (correctly?) that the Harbingers are ranked by strength but he has no idea why she's ranked above Arlecchino.

A lot of fanon has synthesised these hints into "scary, alien, and/or eldritch 'angel'". But who knows...

====

For Sandrone, we got a lot of hints during the 4.x patches.

(though if you want to hc Sandrone as a Guizhong reincarnation or just a generic mad scientist then be my guest 😇 )

The most relevant bit of characterisation happens in the Steambird questline (Questioning Melusine and Answering Machine), which implies a little bit of Sandrone involvement at the end.

the second most relevant bit is *checks notes, sighs* the entire Narzissenkreuz Ordo world series (e.g. starting from Mamere or Ann or Lanoire), but particularly the 'unlocked "Treasure"' quest item, which depicts a character who looks a lot like Sandrone.

I'm not the best person to summarise these quests— could someone else help?

#asks #mjlol52 #columbina #sandrone #if not us‚ then who?#genshin impact

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touchlikethesun · 7 months

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i’ve been thinking about haikyuu name meanings again, so i thought i’d share two of the name meanings that make me smile a lot :)))

木　boku - tree 兎　to - rabbit (?) 光　kou - shining, glory, pride 太郎　tarou - “great” son or first son 赤　aka - red, communism (??) 葦　ashi - reed (?) 京　kei - ten quadrillion; other readings (kyou, tokyo), capital city 治　ji - govern, regulate

so i’ve purposefully kept the direct kanji meanings, even tho most of them are simple and/or non sensical when applied to bokuto and akaashi’s character. but i've done so to replicate my own confusion and (hopefully) eventual satisfaction when i’d worked tho the many layers of word play.

so the first character of bokuto’s name 木 (tree) i originally thought was supposed to tie him to owls, yknow bc owls are often sitting in trees, and that might be part of it, but when 木 is used in adjectival constructions (so instead of ‘tree’ it might mean more ‘wooden’) and applied to people it often carries pejorative connotations of stupidity, close to the english ‘blockheaded’ - which i have to admit. did make me chuckle. (note: i thought there might be some connection between boku and boke the insult kags is always launching at hinata but they seem to be unrelated go figure)

兎 (to) was another confusing one, since ordinarily 兎 is the character for usagi (rabit), but when read as to there didn't seem to be any real mean associated with it, which is funny because most of the names in hq!! have more thought put into them then that. i was just about to write it off, when i looked up the two kanji together on wiktionary and-

木兎　mimizuko - alt. spelling for eagle/horned owl

see above: eagle owl and bokuto koutarou for comparaison.

so basically in bokuto's name there is both a pun calling him a bit thick and a pun with the type of owl that inspired him how fucking incredible is that??? i personally love it

光太郎 (koutarou) seems to be a bit more of a traditional name, and we also have a very clear in-universe explanation for it's meaning. bokuto is the youngest of three with two older sisters, and it seems mr and mrs bokuto were very proud to finally have a son (ehhh patriarchy sucks sorry it is what it is) and wanted to give him a name that reflected their feelings. however, i do also think that 光 can also be taken to represent bokuto's presence in the series as a whole.

the first meaning of 光 being 'shining' obviously makes me think of the most bokuaka line in all of canon "we are the stars of the world" (ik some translations use protagonists in place of stars but shhh i'm being symbolic plus the vers i read used "stars"), because bokuto is such a star, he shines so brightly, and motivates so many people (the least of whom being akaashi and the rest of fukurodani). bokuto was always destined for glory and stardom in volleyball, but i think he's also just. so bright of a person. like yes, ofc he has his moods and his caprices, but that doesn't change how much he just, well, shines, brightens up a room. i don't know how much of this was intentional or accidental, but i like it.

like with bokuto's name, i ran into a bit of trouble with 赤葦 (akaashi) at first. literally, it means red reed, which didn't really seem significant. although 赤 (aka) also means 'red' as in 'communist' so now even tho it is certainly not at all the intended meaning i now and forever will headcanon akaashi as being a communist or someone at the very least well versed in communist theory. however, like with bokuto, akaashi's name is actually a reference to アカアシフクロウ (akaashi-fukuro) or アカアシモリフクロウ (akaashi-mori-fukuro), so another type of owl

i've already talked about what i find so amusing about 京治 (keiji) in this post, but to summarise here (actually maybe this counts as an expansion?), the most relevant part to akaashi's character is the second kanji 治, meaning to govern or to regulate. 治 is sometimes used on it's own, but it is also often used in compounds related to peace, healing, (and politics, my commie akaashi headcanon wins again hahaha).

i think akaashi's character evolves from what it was intended to be, and i'm not sure how accurate this meaning is by the time we reach the end of canon (or maybe i've just been reading to much bokuaka fic and it's skewing my perception of him), but akaashi started out a bit like bokuto's external emotional regulator. for someone with as insane mood swings as bokuto, mood swings that other people struggled to understand and react to, he must have had quite a hard time, and indeed we're shown that his difficulties managing his emotions seriously and negatively affects his performance on the court. enter akaashi. akaashi, who through careful observation, quickly learns to not just react to bokuto's mood swings, but to understand them, their causes, and even eventually to anticipate them, effectively giving bokuto the tools he needs to learn to control his emotions and continue giving his all like akaashi knows he can.

i think it's relevant that 治 is also used to talk about healing and peace, (and not just governing which has rather unfortunate implications of control and coercion that i don't particularly like) because that is what akaashi's presence in bokuto's life ultimately provides, as evidenced by bokuto's growth by the end of the series ("hey look guys i'm just a normal ace!" meaning he's learned to manage his emotions by himself, something that i think would have been a much longer and harder journey without akaashi's influence).

when i said i'm not sure how accurate 治 is when applied to akaashi's character by the end of the series, i mean that i think it downplays the reciprocal nature of bokuto and akaashi's relationship, because for as much as akaashi helps bokuto manage his mood swings, bokuto also provides a lot of emotional support and motivation to akaashi. and i'm not sure this was something that furudate had already taken into account when first coming up with these characters.

i think there might be smaller symbolic meaning relating to akaashi's position as a setter, but that's really only a minor detail i think...

anyways, there you have it! bokuaka kanji meanings and thoughts!! do let me know if you have different interpretations, or if i've missed something, i really really reallyyyyy like talking about things like this but for now brb i am going to go read like a dozen bokuaka oneshots xx

#i feel like their names being owl refs is common knowledge like i feel like i already knew that #and had just forgotten #so to anyone that didn't already know or needed the reminder #here it is lol #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #bokuaka #haikyuu #fukurodani

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emeryhiro · 2 months

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My thoughts on TBOC 206 script & Caryl canon.

Before I get into my thought I want to clarify a few things, and this may come across as blunt, however, I feel that bluntness is nessary in this instance.

Firstly, I wasn't planning on adressing the leaked script pages, however, after reading some of the positive and negative posts about it, I feel like I should also share my thoughts and clarify some things that may be misunderstood about me as well.

Secondly, (and this may not sound relevant right now but bear with me for a second) I'm an engineer who works in the construction industry, I'm also a post grad architecture student, both of which are roles that require at the very least a competent level of critical thinking as a baseline skill. Why I'm sharing this information is becasue those skills are what I use to develop the thoughts and opinions that I share. I also want to say that I'm in no way familiar with the way things are run in the entertainment industry, whether that's production companies, directors, producers, or actors, I'm just a fan of the arts who loves delving deep into lore-rich stories and sharing my thoughts with others who also love the same things.

So now that you have my cridentials😅 you can come to your own decisions on how you approach and what you take away from the thoughts I share.

Where I stand on Carol and Daryl's relationship.

Over the past few months, I've had several messages saying that my opinion may be biased or that I'm just being overly optimistic because I'm a Caryl fan. So the first thing that i want to say is that this fandom is very dear to me. And even though I have only in the past year begun to be more vocal on these tags, I have been on this platform and a part of the fandom for a very long time.

As someone who had the opportunity to see episode one early, I feel that I have a responsibility to be honest with everyone who's relying on my opinion. I would never want to give false hope to those who (similar to me) love Caryl and are excited about canon, only for them to be even more disappointed in the end.

I respect and understand that everyone has their own reasons for watching/not watching and loving/hating a show. However, I myself will 100% still be watching season 2 and all the seasons to come, even if we never get canon. I love Carol and Daryl as individual characters, and I watched twd because I loved the show and it's premise. Daryl and Carol are a massive part of why I loved the show, they also happen to be my favourite characters in fiction, and Caryl canon is what I've always wanted for them, BUT I'm not, never have, and never will be watching for Caryl canon alone. Will I be disappointed if it never happens? Yes, definitely! But I'll still be watching because of everything else that I love about the show and the characters.

Even if the show was just about Daryl, or just about Carol I'd still be watching every single episode and loving it. So to summarise what I'm trying to say, the thoughts and opinions that I share publicly are not biased (at least not consciously) by my love for the idea of Caryl unless I specifically say that I'm "fangirling" which you may have notice me clarifiying in some of my posts.

SPOILER WARNING - Thoughts on the leaked ep 206 script below the line.

TBOC 206 Script

Implications on Caryl canon:

I don't see anything in these pages that implies whether or not canon has or hasn't happened, the whole scene that it describes can't be more than 5-10 minutes long, which is why there is no point assuming either way.

If canon has happened, I don't expect them to be mentioning it in a scene where they're seperated for the most of it, with one of them getting almost beat/shot to death, the other fighting several walkers and collapsing, and both of them most probably inhaling poisonous gas. Not exactly the type of scene where you can create the perfect romantic Caryl moments. And not so different from the TOWL finale scene between Rick and Michonne as they escape the walkers/gas.

~~~

The Parallel:

One thing I haven't seen anyone talk about is the parrallel of the scene between Daryl and his hallucination of Isabelle, and the scene between Carol and her hallucination of Alpha from S10 EP14.

Firstly, I don't think Isabelle is meant to represent an angel to Daryl in this moment, just like how Alpha didn't represent a demon to Carol. Neither actually represents the characters themselves, and both are just personification of the conflicts that's going on in each of their minds, and perhaps another similarity is that they're both personifications of people who they believe got them to the situation they're in.

Secondly, In both scenes Daryl and Carol seem completely overwhlmed by guilt and ready to let go and give up. The scene from S10EP14 didn't mean that Carol didn't love Daryl, on the contrary a reminder of him was what snapped her out of the physical and mental trap she was in and gave her the motivation and drive to fight again.

I think the same can be said about Daryl in the TBOC EP06 scene, he's "ready to let go" and this isn't becasue he doesn't love Carol but it's becasue he feels as though he's constantly failing everyone who relies on him, including Merle, Beth, Glenn, Isabelle and in his mind Carol could be next. But what gets him to fight again? Isabelle saying:

"Not like him."

refering to his grandfather. In season 1 we learnt exactly what Daryl didn't want to do and in what way's he didn't want to be like his grandfather. The main one being that his granfather left his family behind, which resulted in generational trauma that he couldn't protect his family from, only becasue he went to fight someone else's war.

What I've taken away from this is that in that moment he believes it's too late, he failed the ones he was supposed to protect from the Nest, and now by losing and dying the fight in that moment it would mean that he also failed his real family and won't be able to protect them. Like everything he did was in vain.

This is exactly what "Isabelle" reminds him of, that yes maybe he did fail to protect her and the people from his past, but unlike his grandfather who died "bloody and bullet riddled" Daryl is still breathing and as long as he's alive there's still the possibility and "hope" of protecting his family. He becomes determined and starts to fight back becasue he's reminded to "Bet on hope".

~~~

The fight scenes:

It appears that Carol and Daryl are in a tunnel with Cordon, and two new characters named Angus and Fiona. I want to point out that it looks like the fight between Codron and Daryl is once again becasue Codron blames Daryl for killing his brother, however, I find it hard to believe that we're in episode 206 and that issue hasn't been resolved yet, which leads me to believe that perhaps there's something paticular about the gas in the tunnel that's causing helusination and all at the same time making:

Codron see his dead brother and run after him like he's hipnotised

Carol seeing, speaking and interacting with Sofia

Daryl seeing and speaking with Isabelle

The pages also show that the fight between Angus, Fiona, and Daryl was about gas masks. It sounds to me like Angus and Fiona perhaps used Daryl to help them get the masks and when finding that there's only two masks, they try to knock him out and have to kill him so that they can take the masks for themselves, gas masks that Carol and him need to get through the tunnel to get home.

I can't wait to see how that fight scene plays on screen! I have a weakness for the way Daryl and Carol become so brutal when fighting to protect each other. Because Angus and Fiona don't sound like antagonists when they're speaking with Daryl, and saying:

"Sorry, friend, ain't enough masks for the lot of us." "Got people waiting back home."

They just sounds like two people who, like Carol and Daryl, are trying to get back to the people waiting for them.

This is more of a personal guess than a proper thought: after the fight as Daryl hands one of the masks to Carol he says "It was us or them." and what I think he really meant was "it was you or them" because he was ready to die moments earlier until he was reminded of her, emphasising my earlier points on how they fight for eachother and live for each other.

~~~

The Tunnel:

Lastly, and probably most importantly, these script pages don't tell us how Daryl and Carol ended up in that situation or which part of the episode this is in, without that context there's no way to know what anything really means.

Some of the questions that I think are important and thoughts that I have:

What events lead up to the fight?

We know that Carol is outside the "camp" as described in the script, and that Carol faught at least 3 walkers and collapsed on the ground, but did Daryl know where she was or if she was okay before he saw her after his fight?

Why would his first thought/guess be of Carol when he saw a "blurry figure approaching."

Would they really end the episode like this, leaving Codrons fate as a huge questions mark? (I don't think they would, seems harsh and like they're throwing away such an interesting character)

As seen in the trailer, the tunnel that they're in is the Channel Tunnel which connects France and England, BUT, we also know as it has been offically announced that season 3 is set in Spain not England, so logcially Carol and Daryl aren't gonna be going all the way through the tunnel only to turn all the way back, which leads me to believe that either they don't end up going through, the season ends as they're walking further into the tunnel, and season 3 will explain how/when they turned around, OR, this isn't actually the final scene 🤷‍♀️

LITTLE (hopefully interesting) HINT ABOUT THE OPENING CREDITS: There's a scene that's described in one of these script pages that's also included in the opening credits.

~~~

Some additional thoughts:

The fireflies that appear as Isabelle walks away. I have a few different ideas on what this could mean but it's impossible to tell without the visual context. Also Dary's "wtf?" reaction to the fireflies had me laughing out loud! That right there reads like some good comedic timing.

We're getting another "You okay?" moment!! Those moments are some of my favourite and most tender/affectionate moments between Carol and Daryl. I can't wait to see how they play this one 😭💖

Sorry but I can sense more tension between Codron and Daryl in their fight scene than all the Isabelle and Daryl scenes combined... 🤣

~~~

To Summarise:

These scripts don't cover enough for any level of resonable doubt or concern. How something reads on a script can turn out sooo different on screen, and what I know from all the other season of twd, is that Norman and Melissa can turn something that may come across as basic, misleading or confusing on script into something incredibly magical on screen which also often turns into some of our favourite scenes between the two of them.

I completely trust Norman and Melissa with the story, and if the story never goes to canon and we end up getting something different I know that it's still gonna be an incredible story.

Although, I do still stand by my thoughts that we're heading towards canon. If Carol and Daryl need season 2 to finally heal and then approach canon on more solid ground in season 3 than so be it, because that would make sense and it would be a fair way to begin a canon relationship between the two. However I can also see the beginnings of a conversation about canon, or even actual canon happening in season 2.

It all seems possible to me and it's now all up to how Norman and Melissa want to tell the story, which I'll be anxiously waiting for and respect no matter what.

~~~

Thank you @celtic-crossbow for giving me the push I needed to share my thoughts on these matters🩵🩵

And thank you to all of you who read through this extensive post. I appreciate all of you who read my thoughts, engage with it, share your thoughts in return, ask me questions. I'm sorry for my bluntness in some areas within this post, I think it was important for me to address and clarify some things in order to avoid further confusion.

I'm so excited that we are now only 8 weeks away from the offical premiere of season 2!!! After a long wait we're finally gonna have our favourite characters sharing a frame on our screen again, and if that in itself isn't a reason to celebrate than I don't know what is.

#daryl dixon #carol peletier #the book of carol #the walking dead #twd spoilers #caryl #spoliers #codron #isabelle carriere #carylarchives

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the-cryptographer · 5 months

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Getting a fair amount of scepticism from respondants about whether Anders was intentionally trying to hurt and embarrass Fenris in the suicidal ideation banter or making a clumsy but entirely unmalicious attempt to connect. And realising I don't feel *that* strongly about it. At least not regarding this banter specifically.

Anders has, since his very first meeting with Fenris, been not so secretly trying to convert Fenris to his political side and claim mutual solidarity with him as a fellow former slave. Which Fenris is not having for a number of entirely reasonable reasons. Which are not entirely relevant to my point but I'll summarise them here anyhow.

First, it's not in Fenris's material interests to side with Anders and lose the protections he gets by conforming with the mainstream Southern Andrastian narrative (as offered by people like Sebastian and Aveline and Hawke) by which magic and mages are tightly controlled by the state and Fenris is a clear and uncomplicated victim of foreign magical Tevinter wickedness.

Second, Anders is a human who feels at all times entitled to Fenris's attention and emotional support, and thinks nothing of turning aggressive when Fenris denies him. So therefore not someone who is in Fenris's mind altogether different from the other entitled humans he has known. (Except for the fact that Fenris is able to loudly and unrepentantly tell him to fuck off, in a way he won't risk with someone like Sebastian or Hawke or Danarius.)

So, in my mind at least, wanting connection with Fenris is absolutely a reason Anders starts this and most conversations with Fenris. And it does at time blur the lines about how much any particular dialogue is 'unmalicious but awkward' versus 'a direct attempt to hurt and embarrass Fenris'. (Which I am not altogether as judgemental about as I think some people are reading me as. Anders's behaviour is inappropriate, but his need for visceral emotional feedback from people - where positive feedback is prefered to negative feedback is prefered to no feedback at all - is entirely sympathetic to me, especially coming from someone who has been tortured via solitary confinement.)

So this all kind of made me reach for a time where I think Anders's sadism is more directly captured:

Yes, it is important to note that this did start with Fenris needling Anders instead of the other way around. And it is also important to note how much more pointed Anders's response is when Fenris and Hawke are romantically entangled. I'll get back to that latter point further on, but in general I'm not trying to have a discussion about how justified any of these characters are in aggressing one another. What's important here is I do think this banter provides a pretty direct look at the running theme into the argument Anders weaponises to hurt and embarrass Fenris - the direct comparison between Fenris's relationships with his family and Danarius and Hawke - and that this tactic absolutely worked going by how quickly and totally it shut Fenris up.

I think Anders is in a particular position to both notice and assign significance to some of the gaps between Fenris's stories & projected identity, and the Southern Andrastian characterisation of Tevinter slaves as mirthless weaklings, unilaterally battered and victimised by magic, and without an agentive bone in their body. Which is to say I think Anders is all too aware of the fact that social heirarchy between slaves is often very complex and fraught with internal conflict and violence, and that Fenris was far more of an Irving than an Evelina in the way he carried himself in his practical life in Tevinter. Fenris was Danarius's bodyguard and enforcer. He was directly empowered by Danarius to act in that role, not only against Danarius's rival senators and political enemies, but against Danarius's other slaves. And the demands and accolades of this position came with protections Fenris was actively courting from Danarius; Fenris was at lower risk for being maimed, starved, chosen for blood sacrifice, or placed in solitary confinement than many of his peers (although there were other violences he was at higher risk of - ones less relatable to Anders). And Fenris is now seeking many of the same protections from Hawke that Danarius himself used to fulfill.

I think my favourite illustration of this is this banter between Fenris and Sebastian:

Fenris relays a story about witnessing Danarius kill a boy during a party to fuel his blood magic. Fenris carefully omits what *he* was doing while this occurred. But I think anyone asking the question is liable to see he was, at best, standing to the side, pouring wine, and doing nothing as he watched it happen. At worst, he helped Danarius restrain and kill the child himself.

Now it would of course be unconscionably cruel for Sebastian or Hawke to hold what Fenris did under durress, merely to safeguard his own survival, against him. Not in the least because Sebastian has no experience with this type of exploitation, and Hawke's far briefer stint as an indentured labourer, as a mercenary or smuggler, was fraught with the same kind of violences against their peers.

But I think Anders can't help but notice that this wholly unsceptical benefit of the doubt is never quite extended to Circle mages who, like Fenris, have had to resort to violence against those less-favoured than them in order to safeguard their own interests within an abusive and exploitative system of slave labour. (At least not in Southern Thedas. I'm sure that there are plenty of Sebastians in Tevinter pearl clutching about how barbaric and cruel the Southern Circles are without ever quite looking their own human rights violations in the eye.) And I think this becomes the biggest source of his resentment towards Fenris.

Now I've said before one of the things I like about Anders is that he is unequivocating in terms of the fact that slavery is bad, and the circles are bad. He doesn't waste time worrying about the Irvings of the world also benefiting from his goals of emancipation, even if he hates them personally. And I do think this extends to Fenris in many ways and is why Anders can see the benefit and possibility of seeking solidarity with Fenris (even if it doesn't work for the reasons stated above).

But at the same time, this resentment of Fenris and of how Fenris is percieved by Hawke and Aveline and Sebastian (I think Varric is alone insofar as Anders's aquaintences with the Kirkwall-powers-that-be that see Anders as more the victim of Fenris's ill-temper than vice versa, although Varric remains terribly equivocating about Anders's condemnation of the Circle itself) ultimately comes through in a lot of Anders's dialogues with Fenris. All the moreso when he feels Hawke is taking sides with Fenris against him via the romance. But even the less pointed non-romance banters are imho trying to poke holes in Fenris's stories. They're part of a larger attempt to expose Fenris to Hawke and the others as far more violent, and far less innocent victim, than the South's image of the Tevinter slave allows. And to point out that Fenris readily takes advantage of that image to his benefit, even though he knows he does not fit its mould. Which I have a hard time saying isn't an attempt to hurt or embarrass or defame Fenris, when Anders knows he is attacking Fenris's honestly extremely shakey support network and the only protection Fenris has against his old master's bounty hunters. Even if I think what Anders really wants is for Hawke et al. to extend him the same moral support that they more effortlessly show Fenris, rather than strictly to bring Fenris down to his level of insecurity.

#i think i lost the plot here #why did i start writing this idk #anders #fenris #lork dragon age opinions #longpost

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 9 months

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I Don't Miss You At All (ITA One Shot)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Warnings: tears, trauma, therapy

Word Count: Thank you Tari for being such a nice friend. For reading all that I blurt out here. Thank you for being my reader and supporter even though I have been so inconsistent as a writer and as a friend.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Looking for something?" Your attention is brought back by the gorgeous olive-skinned lady in her late forties sitting before you. "Hmm?" is all that comes out of you while you are biting the dead skin on your lower lip. "You were looking around for something on the ceiling and-" she points at the French doors opening to the porch outside with the pen in her hand- "the doorway." Your crinkled brows relax and go up a little. "Oh. Right. It was...I was looking for cameras." Now lady furrows her brows even though she is smiling at you. "It was on involuntary." You shrug casually. The lady does not react. "I am used to cameras in my vicinity." you try to summarise. She opens the notebook in her lap. "Nothing negative. Just a project my father has going on." Now her lips make that straight line and you suddenly feel like you've failed a test. "So there is an entire crew-" "Miss Y/N, breathe." she tries to calm you down.

You breathe in, hold the air and let it out slowly, taking in your surroundings again. The beige-coloured room is well-lit- thanks to the abundant sunlight coming through the French doors. You sit on a cream-coloured velvet sofa, wearing your oversized shirt with a happy Tony Tony Chopper eating candy on the front and a pair of blue mom jeans. "So-" the lady starts, seeing that your nerves seem better- "why did you come in today?" "Doctor I-" "Jane. It's Jane. Please call me Jane," she urges with a smile before settling on her cream sofa. "Okay...Jane." You nod. "So, tell me why you are here today." Pressing your hands between your thighs and letting the warmth seep in, you feel your chest tighten. The air that goes in to help you form the words suddenly feels heavy in the lungs. Your eyes seem to betray you a little too. You smile, trying your best to let your facial muscles close your eyes as much as possible and wipe away the moisture by some miracle. But they fail. A tear falls down your cheek, falling right through the smile. "Because I'm not okay," your voice croaks. Your shivering hands try to wipe away the tears that now seem endless. "Sorry," you whisper an apology. "It's okay," Jane soothes you, pouring a glass of water from the jar sitting in front of you on her coffee table, "let it out. That's good. We're halfway there already because you are aware you are not feeling okay. So, no need to rush. Crying is also a part of it. It is okay to cry." You gulp down the water in seconds before pouring yourself another round. "Okay," you announce softly, nodding in Jane's direction. "Take a minute if-" "No, I'm good," you confirm and settle back down in your seat with a sigh. Jane's eyes smile their kindest smile at you. "Okay. let's begin."

"Yeah-" you nod- "so, it's been a few weeks now..."

The six am alarm starts to buzz on your phone and before the alarm tone can even begin to ascend, your fingers are stopping the buzz. There is no point in the alarm when you lay wide awake in your bed in the dorm room, your eyes looking at infinity in the sky outside as they have watched it break from dawn to a proper sunny day. The constant throbbing in your head has become a part of your existence now. You lay in your bed for another hour and you would have laid there for two more had Yusuf not knocked at your door. "Y/N! We have a lecture in twenty minutes. Please tell me you are still not sleeping." You have heard him, but your body lays in bed, still looking at the sky. Yusuf knocks again. Silence. "Okay, I'm coming in," he shouts, "you better be decent because we cannot miss today's lecture." You groan and crinkle your nose when Yusuf pulls you up by your arms. You protest, not wanting to attend today's lectures. But Yusuf's begging techniques seem to be your weakness. Deodorant under your armpits and a change of shirt later you are sitting through the day's lectures, pretending to write in your notebook. Everything around you is on the move- the professors, the students, the assignments leaflets, the laptops, even the bugs crawling on the class's windows outside- while you sit in one place. Nothing seems to grab much of your attention. Except for that one whiff of jasmine, lily and a mix of spices that sometimes travels through the air and fires up the wrong wirings inside you. Some days it just makes your heart race up a bit, making you short of breath for a while. On other days, you sweat through your body, unable to breathe, looking for the washroom to run into before crumbling down in there. Today it makes your hands shiver. Your back can feel the cold sweats coming in. "I'll just come back," you mumble to Yusuf and rush to the washroom from the back door of the lecture hall. .

"All good?" Yusuf's concerns are always transparent. "Yeah. I think the dinner from last night was acting up." You smile at him through the lie. More lectures start and finish before it is time for lunch. "Don't feel like it," you declare, "not hungry." "Have some juice still," Yusuf presses, already having brought you a glass of fresh pressed juice. "Dude, that shit's expensive," you state before sliding it back to him. "I can't. I don't feel so good." But Yusuf does not give up. You take three sips before your stomach begins to feel the nausea. You sit in the grass looking at the endless stream of students going about their day with no thought going inside your brain. And then you see those pair of green eyes. Your heart starts to race again. Only to find it is someone else. But it is already too late. The tears have begun to form. And it is starting to get hard to hide them. Taking out your earphones and plugging them in, you press play on a random tutorial on how to make rice in ten different ways and lie down on the grass with your eyes closed. Some days it works.

It's four in the evening and you have volunteered to get dog food for Yusuf's pitbull. You have your car now to drive you through the city, a second-hand ocean-blue Honda. Your mind knows that dog food is an excuse. But no arguments are made. You sit in the city traffic, waiting for the light to turn green. Some random radio channel is turned on in your car. You have never bothered to set it up before. They start to play a familiar song.

Wind blows Blew me to where I belong It was you A home I came into the night

The cold sweats start again. It gets harder to breathe. The light has turned green but the vehicles in front of you are not moving. You shut down the radio and press the horn into infinity. Your car revs and breaks into a spree, only stopping at a spot where there aren't any eyes and you can finally hit your steering wheel as much as you want before you break down into an ugly cry. Two hours pass before you text Yusuf you cannot find the specific brand of dog food and return to the campus. Parking your car near your department building, you walk to the dorms. It's a thirty-minute walk. Sometimes you feel like you hear the familiar soft British accent on your way. Your chest feels the heaviness again, but your brain simply makes it for another student on campus. You don't have any more tears left to shed for the day.

Back at the dorm, you stand under the shower for ten minutes doing nothing. The shirt and PJs you had on last night are what you wear again. You come down to the dining area to see if you have any appetite. You smile at the familiar faces that greet you. You know your smiles are growing weaker every day. But there is nothing you can do about it. Salad. Soup. Bread. Pasta. Fruits. Ice cream. A tiny leaf of lettuce. A finger-sized slice of bread. Two pieces of penne with barely any sauce on them and a slice of apple. That is all that goes onto your plate. Even the lady serving you is concerned for her favourite student who used to leave the dining hall only after stuffing down two huge servings of everything. You sit on the table in the corner right by the window. It is a cold spot so no one ever prefers to sit there. Even as you sit down to eat the contents on your plate, you are not able to finish the bread and the pasta.

Back in your dorm room, you sit in the dark on your bed for about an hour before your phone rings. It's Tony. You look at the time on your phone. It's time for the usual call. You switch on the study light to accept the video call but your fingers never touch the accept button. Finally, you accept the voice call, putting it on speaker. "Hey, sweetie," Tony's voice greets from the other end. "'Sup," you greet back, not truly matching the enthusiasm. "How was college today?" "It was fine." "..." "..." "Okay. Cool. How's that car doing?" "Doing okay." "Because I can send you a better-" "It's doing okay." "...okay," Tony's voice goes down an amplitude, "that's good to know. So...did they have anything good in dinner today?" "Same old." "Did you eat?" you can hear the concern in his voice. "Mm-hmm." Silence. "Are you in your lab?" you finally say, wanting to prevent any more questions that you did not have the strength to answer. "Yeah. Working on a special suit right now. For a special someone." There is a pause for a moment. "Can you...can I hear you work? I have to work on an assignment and I need some sort of background noise to help me get it done faster." "Oh, okay." The amplitude is a little better now. You lie down on your bed, your legs bent close to your chest, keeping your phone next to you. Tony goes on with this work, chatting with Friday. You continue to listen to him, never consciously feeling the tears fall from your eyes, wetting your pillow. Bruce joins Tony sometime later. You don't know how long has it been since you've been lying there. But you can hear Bruce tell Tony it's two in the morning so they should call it a night. "Y/N, sweetie? You asleep?" Tony whispers through the phone. You say nothing. "I guess she's asleep. Good night, goose," Tony hums before ending the call. You do not wish for the sleep to come, for it has not visited you for quite some days now. But the fear of seeing a familiar face when you fall asleep is also the reason you do not want slumber to hit you. But it comes tonight. Bringing with it reasons you are going to feel the numbness, the hole in your chest, the cold sweats all over again tomorrow.

Loki only visits your dorm when you are not there. You are gone early from the room because you have an eight am class today. The room reeks. Used tissues lie on the floor, below the study table, overfilling the dustbin. There are half-eaten packets of chips sitting on the desk along with half-finished cans of soda. Your hoodies, sweat pants, shorts and undergarments lie in a crumpled mess in the cupboard as well as the laundry basket. He opens the windows first- noticing the dead succulents on your window sill that Yusuf has brought as a 'dorm-warming gift'- before getting to work. He clears the trash, cleans the floors, disinfects the desk, changes the bedsheet and duvet, and replaces the dirty laundry with clean ones. Taking one last look at the room, he makes sure to leave your clothes just as he had found them to not raise any suspicion. He replaces your bottles and mugs with fresh water, praying that you will drink as much as possible. Then he leaves.

He disguises himself as another student to watch you from afar. Sometimes he catches you lost in a thought in the window of your lecture hall. On other days he sees you looking at the void while sitting in the campus grounds. It is visible you have lost weight. Your eyes have bags under them. Your signature smile that went up to your eyes is not there. Twice he has witnessed you rush into the washroom with great urgency, and both times he has stopped himself from following you, for multiple reasons. Both times he has waited outside in the corridor, pacing back and forth. Both times you have come out with a freshly washed face, red eyes hiding behind spectacles and a smile for whoever greeting you in the corridor.

He keeps a good distance whenever you walk back from your department to your dorm building. The way back is dimly lit and you prefer to walk alone, no matter the time. Sometimes he watches you stop abruptly in your path. Sometimes you sniffle and wipe something off your face. Other times you take your phone out and look at something on it for a long time before closing it and resuming your walk.

He avoids the nights. They do not bring the best of him. Because they are not the best for you.

"Jane, is it? You do realise I would not be here had those two baboons not tricked me into walking into your office on the pretext of an emergency." Loki huffs and rubs one hand on his face while the other rests on his hips. Jane purses her lips and shrugs in agreement before sitting down on her sofa. "Must have been an emergency for your friends to bring to a clinical psychologist, right?" Loki chuckles sarcastically. Jane is unbothered. "Oh, Miss Clinical Psychologist-" Loki's eyes have nothing but pity as he looks in the doctor's direction- "you are talking to a thousand-year-old being infamous for the art of manipulation. So, no offence, but I am pretty sure I can diagnose myself better than any doctor on this planet. Let alone this galaxy." This time Jane is the one chuckling. "I am two hundred per cent sure no one has the knowledge of psychology on this planet as much as you. And I take your word for all that you said. But-" she takes a tiny remote from the coffee table in front of her, points and clicks it to the opaque window separating her room from the reception outside, revealing Peter Parker and Scott Lang pacing the length of the reception hall- "for the sake of those two worried souls, why not humour me for...twenty minutes? Not to mention, even the best of psychologists need another experienced person to help them out in desperate times." Loki looks out at the two figures who have no clue they are being watched. He can't hear but Peter is saying something to Scott with a look of anxiousness, to which Scott simply keeps his hands on Peter's shoulders for a moment, telling him something, and finally taking him into his embrace. The window goes back to white. Loki comes back into the room. He is lost in a thought for a moment. "Well played, Jane," Loki announces in a mumble. "Had it been any other day, I would not give a damn about any of this." Jane simply gestures to the seat kept for Loki with both her hands. The God sits down and sighs.

"Why do you think they are so worried about you?" Loki raises his hands in defeat. "Beats me." Loki notices Jane has not touched the dairy kept in front of her. Neither her pen. She simply sits there for the God to elaborate. After a prolonged moment of thought, and the presence of zero judgment on the doctor's face, Loki gives in. "It's their friend. She...and I are not on speaking terms anymore." Loki's voice has gone soft. Jane nods. "Is their friend not your friend?" "...she was. Till she confessed that she liked me." Loki huffs the 'liked' part as if it were an insult. "Okay." Jane nods, adjusting herself a bit towards to edge of the seat, interested in knowing more. "Nothing more to it, Jane," he points out, averting his gaze, "she's gone...a bit far so we don't see each other much." "So, you do see each other." Loki takes in a long breath, furrowing his brows as if trying to push something away. "No. I go see her. She is staying in the city. I-" Loki's gaze goes down to his fingers that have started playing with the velvet on the sofa- "check in on her. Sometimes." "Why do you need to check in on her?" Even if that question is out of curiosity, Jane makes no effort to react in any way. Loki scoffs. "Because she is wasting away, Jane. A woman like her, who is capable of changing worlds is wasting away in a box half the size of the room we are sitting in because she was rejected by the God she fell for." Jane pours herself a glass of water. "You still haven't answered my question, though, Loki." Loki looks at her in confusion. "Why do you need to check in on her?" She picks the glass up. "What do you mean- I just told you she is-" "Wasting away, yes. That's the choice she made. Why do you feel the need to go there?" Jade sits back with the glass still in her hand. "Because I am the reason she is in this mess." Loki cannot understand what is so hard to understand. Jade turns her head a little. "So are millions of other women after a breakup. Why is it so important for you to go back to her? You have already told her how you feel." Silence. The glass is sitting in her lap. Loki can feel an unnerving feeling in his chest as he glares at that glass of water.

"Because I love her," he finally admits. "Because I cherish her. Because she nearly died because of me." Jade does not speak in the silence that comes after. "Because it is preposterous to think I could ever be with her." The confidence and anger with which Loki had entered the room has dissolved into the sea of certain new emotions; emotions that seem to be taking over his features gradually. The previously poised glare has turned into a fragile pair of eyes blinking a bit faster than before. "And why-" Jane's voice is soft as it stresses her words- "do you think you cannot be with her." Jane raises the glass to her lips, drinking the water, giving the room a good long pause. At that moment, the God feels the rush of tears in his eyes, the onset of a slight quiver building in his lips, the shakiness of his breath as his throat tries to bring out what has been sitting inside that little boy for ages. "Because I'm a monster." his voice breaks as he looks back at Jane. "Because I don't deserve that love." He tries to breathe in to compose himself only for his throat to shake. "Because I am scared of not being worthy. Because I am scared she will find out it is all a facade and I am nothing but a spineless pawn. Because I have only been loved on conditions and am afraid to get hurt again." Tears fall frantically through Loki's eyes. He does not bother to wipe them off. Jane pours Loki a glass of water and hands it to him. "Must have been hard to say it out loud," she states. "I can assure you if you choose to sit with me to figure it out, it will be a bit easier than it is right now. It won't be a smooth sail, but it will hurt less. And you just want the pain to stop, don't you?" Loki takes in a lungful of breath. "I want it to stop." Janes nods in reassurance. "Please make it stop."

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki fluff #mcu loki #marvel loki #It's The Avengers #The Office AU #Maladaptive Ninja Returns #avengers fluff #loki

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ravetillyoucry · 5 months

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PUPARIA

Chapter 12 - je t’aime ★ je t’aime

prev - chapter 1

The crisp autumnal air in the evening was perfectly warm, yet also cool and refreshing, and the best way to enjoy it was standing out on Teddy's balcony with a cigarette in hand.

Hosah leant over with his elbows against the fine railing, taking in the city sky line as the sun went down, all the twinkling lights of the incomprehensibly tall buildings coming to life in a similar fashion to stars which were no longer visible from the light pollution. It was a real shame, they were his favourite part of his childhood hometown.

Without warning, a much larger figure wrapped its arms around the shifter's bare waist, resting a chin on his shoulder as he'd done previously.

"One two three, that's enough for me," Teddy joked, taking the cigarette from between his roommates fingers, making the decision that this was now something they'd be sharing.

Hosah's attention turned to the freckled forearms encapsulating his body, deciding not to fight against the touch for once in his life,

"Thought you were on the whole 'smoking is bad' train," The shifter joked back, "Am I a bad influence?"

Instead of giving a straight answer, Teddy instead gave an unsure 'Mmm' as he inhaled the toxins once more, something unexpected of him to even know how to do properly.

Hosah knew the innocent and inexperienced mental image he'd created of his assistant to be most likely inaccurate, which is why he'd felt guilty for thinking of Teddy in such a way, but he couldn't shake the views he'd gained of the auburn haired man, so him indulging in these kinds of poor habits, that he himself was guilty of, was certainly shocking to the shifter.

"So," Teddy propped his head up, passing the cigarette back to the shifter as he'd moved his arms from around his waist to around his shoulders, "How are you liking it here?"

The question was unusually bland, but still, Hosah struggled to find the right words to summarise his feelings.

"It's nice," Was certainly one way to put it, "I feel like I can relax again."

Although somewhat true, Hosah still found it hard to break from his train of thought taking him to dark places in his mind. One idea that came to mind was certainly an intrusive one, one where his stalker waited below the apartment building with a little red target dot places perfectly in the middle of the shifters head, ready to shoot him down and end everything in less than a split second.

"That's good," Teddy's head tilted into the crook of the shifter's neck, where he himself once lay when the roles were reversed, his entire form fitting into that one little space, one where his assistant's whole upper head couldn't even imagine fitting.

This was another scene Hosah imagined to be quite picturesque. He wondered if anyone was watching the pair, maybe he could've asked them to take a candid shot of the moment so he could keep it in a photo album forever.

Despite the fact he was only half way through the perfectly good cigarette, something within Hosah, probably relating to his stalker, told him it was time to go back inside. Flicking the ash that hung onto the slender tobacco cylinder, the shifter let it fall down all seven stories before hitting the pavement below them, almost landing on a passerby's head in the process.

"I'm cold," Hosah lied, wriggling out of the touch and rushing back in through the glass sliding door. Of course he'd be cold, the only pieces of clothing he had on were his socks and boxer briefs.

The sudden thought of the person who'd been watching his every move getting sight of him and Teddy's growing closeness was one that scared the shifter. Things were going so well, if some outside uncontrollable forces were to ruin everything they'd created, he'd be devastated. If things were to end badly, it'd have to be on his own accord, then he wouldn't be able to wallow in self-guilt. Hosah would much rather be mad at himself for all eternity than feel bad for himself.

Although, that was exactly the problem, if the shifter's growing anxiety were to worsen, if he were to become more and more paranoid by the day as he was seeming to be, it'd force a wedge between himself and his new roommate. Hosah already spent his days with an unexplained pit of forbidden knowledge in his stomach, one that told him something bad was going to happen, he just didn't know when.

The unshakable feeling of impending doom was one that dictated his every thought, his every action, his every word, his whole livelihood was spent feeding this forever growing black hole of anxiety, and he wasn't going to let it start to consume those around him too.

"You okay?" The voice came from the balcony door, one with concern in its tone, as Teddy stood there with an undeniably cute pout on his face.

Hunched over the kitchen counter, Hosah replied in a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding this whole time,

"Yeah, think I'm just falling asleep here," His fake laugh was extremely obvious, but there were bigger things to care about.

Seeing the gorgeous face looking back at him certainly put Hosah's mind at ease. If he were to be struck down by this crazed killer, he just hoped it'd be done with Teddy looking down at him. If there was an afterlife, he hoped every angel up in that sacred place would have a face at least somewhat as beautiful as Teddy's. Now that truly would be heaven.

Making his way to the cluttered bedroom, Hosah half expected his assistant to follow behind him like the lost little puppy he was, but as he lay down on the unmade bed, the shifter realised Teddy was still stood in the kitchen opposite.

"Aren't you coming to read?" Hosah felt like they were some old married couple as he yelled out across the apartment.

The two had gotten into the habit of migrating into the bedroom when they were almost passed out on the sofa with the TV blaring reruns of old men cooking show garbage, and Teddy would sit and read besides him as the shifter fell asleep, but once he woke up in the morning, he'd realise Teddy had actually gotten up and went to sleep on the couch.

He felt bad seeing the man who was definitely too tall for the makeshift bed all cramped up like that, but on the other hand, Hosah couldn't help but feel he was right to do so, given all the stories from his past that Jules had spread around the office.

Instead of looking scared or disturbed as Hosah half expected him to, Teddy turned around with a smile, "On my way."

And sure enough, in he came, and down he lay by the side of the smaller, freshly washed, cut and dried man. The two just sort of lay in the dimly lit room, turned on their sides looking at each other like two high-school girls up past their bedtime talking about their latest crushes.

Even when only illuminated by the bedside lamp behind him, Teddy's eyes were still hypnotically bright, the green colour being similar to that of a rich emerald on the most beautiful crown you could picture in your head.

It took a whole lot of strength to not point out the two orbs staring straight through him, but luckily, his assistant bit the bullet in the first to talk game.

Brushing the length of Hosah's wavy hair out of his eyes, Teddy half-whispered, "I think you should let your hair curl more, it's pretty like this."

The little crooked canine that stuck out when his assistant smiled was unbearably charming. Fighting the urge to reach out and touch it, Hosah instead turned his head down to avoid looking at the man laid beside him.

How he'd ended up in such an intimate position with a man he was so certainly attracted to was beyond the shifter. Maybe luck was finally starting to favour him, maybe he'd unlocked some kind of hidden charm he hadn't realised he'd had within him as of late, drawing in the type of person he'd been searching for without his own knowledge.

Whatever it was that brought Teddy to the shifter, it deserved a very large thank-you. Whether it be luck, fate, some kind of supernatural interference, it was on Hosah's side with this one.

It seemed Teddy just got closer and closer to the shifter whilst he hid his reddening face, as when he'd finally got the courage to look back up, the two were so close that the tips of their noses brushed against each other when Hosah's face matched the same level as his assistant's.

The combination of sudden touch, close proximity, and pre existing attraction all blended into one scenario was all too much for the shifter's heart, shooting down to his base size of three inches in the blink of an eye. Phew, that was a close call. If they had stayed like that any longer, Hosah wouldn't have half a mind to think his assistant was trying to kiss him. But that was stupid, Teddy wasn't that type of guy, Teddy probably didn't even see him that way, and was just messing with the shifter to get a reaction out of him.

"Shit," The only word Hosah could muster out as he lay in the fetal position beside the giant.

The shifter quickly turned to his other side, frantically looking away from the perpetrator of the malicious attack against his feelings, eyes shut tight incase Teddy went in for the final K.O.

There was only a brief moment of awkward, flustered, homoerotic silence before Teddy spoke up, "...Sorry, too close."

Hosah turned back over to face the person speaking to him, afraid his overreaction would ruin their future possibilities all together,

"It's okay, been itching to shrink all day anyway," the shifter explained, moving himself into the resting cupped hand that lay out besides Teddy's face.

He was certainly not inexperienced with being close to other men, in fact, the amount of guys Hosah had shared a bed with could probably fill an entire stadium, but there was something so inherently familiar about the sincerity in Teddy's touch, the genuine love and care in all of his gentle brushes of his fingertips against the shifter's brittle skin, the kind of affection Hosah had not yet received in life, and that terrified him. The thought of finally learning what it meant to be loved by someone else, and suddenly losing that. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to move on from that.

The future however, did not matter right now, all that mattered was that Hosah was finally in the warm palm of a beautiful man who cared for him. There was no point in worrying about the day it'll disappear when he could just enjoy it as it were happening, is what he tried to tell himself as his mind wandered into the deep unknown depths of itself.

Teddy's hands weren't exactly the most delicate or elegant he'd ever seen, but they were certainly soft and pleasant. A little coarse on the tips from farm work, Hosah presumed, but they were steady and stable, something the shifter most definitely lacked and was in need of in this life.

Twisting around onto his stomach, Hosah peered up at whatever the giant was doing, which was what he usually did before bed, far too indulged in some sort of book the shifter could quite make out the cover of from such a distance away and in such bad lighting.

Despite wanting to call out for attention, instead Hosah just watched attentively, hoping the sensation of eager eyes boring into the giant's face would be enough to make him look up from whatever he was so engulfed by.

Fortunately, it seemed Teddy couldn't turn the page with just one hand, putting the book down with the two pages separated on the bedside table, his view finally shifting down into the tiny man that lounged in his palm like they didn't just share an extremely embarrassing intimate moment that will be ingrained in both of their memories for the rest of time.

"You look comfortable," was all the giant could muster has he moved the rest of his body in accordance to the shifter's satisfaction.

"Yeah," Hosah sighed wistfully, "Don't leave to sleep on the couch tonight please."

He didn't even intend to make such a big request from his roommate in the moment, but it seems the shifter's wants heavily surpassed his ability to think before speaking. Wide-eyed in embarrassment, a response couldn't come faster.

Equally as red as the shifter once was, Teddy laughed, his free hand rubbing his face as an excuse to cover it, "Okay, if that's what you want, 's it scary all alone in the dark?" The giant teased,

"Well when you have a stalker that invaded your home, I guess so," The macabre joke was one Hosah fully expected not to land, as he often assumed with most of the jokes he made that he genuinely considered funny, but it seemed that Teddy saw the comedy in the situation too.

"Hah, cmon," The giant's palm shifted, pressing the shrunken figure up against the cozy chest of which he'd grown familiar to, "Go to sleep,"

Despite the layer of thin t-shirt material between them, this still felt more intimate than the likes of which the shifter had ever experienced. Well, you didn't have to tell Hosah twice, as he might as well have passed out right in that moment with how quickly he went from a hundred to zero as he curled up, sandwiched between the hand and the chest. Okay, maybe this was a more accurate representation of his ideal heaven.

-~-

The next few passing days at work became more and more repetitive by the second. Hosah would spend all day pining for the touch he, quite literally, shrank away from, only to wimp out once they were home and his assistant went back to testing the waters with him again.

Just the inkling that his feelings were mutual was enough to make the shifter a flustered mess, and the fact Teddy took full leverage of that power he held over the shifter became more apparent by the minute. Getting just slightly closer than he did yesterday, taking more risks with the things he said, all steps that would water the seed that was their romantic relationship, until it eventually bloomed into an incomprehensibly beautiful thing.

Sitting on the hardwood desk besides all the files and loose papers had become a part of Hosah's nature, a second, or third if you count his own apartment, home to him. Lately, the shifter had been heavily slacking off with all of the casework still left to do, getting lost in Teddy's vast form that sat in front of him, his eyes becoming fixated on all the little details that were only visible at such a size.

"I think you should move in, like, officially." The statement caught Hosah incredibly off guard.

A little shocked, and also sort of flattered, the shifter responded, "Uh, yeah, yeah me too. I.."

There was no easy way to put the fact that Jules was not only both his boss and best friend from his teen years, but also his landlord.

"..I'll need to take that up with Boss though. My rent is taken straight from my paycheck. Her dad owns the apartment complex I live in, she's my landlord."

"Oh, god," Teddy laughed, "I'm sorry that happened to you,"

"Yeah. Shitty situation to end up in. Needed to get out of there anyway,"

His apartment was not a place Hosah had grown particularly attached to, preferring the heavily decorated space that his assistant owned to the endless liminal space that was his complex's hallways. Sometimes, when it was dark outside and the only thing he had to light his pathway was the buzzing, flickering, yellow overhead lights, Hosah wondered if he was even anywhere near his home, the building being more like a maze if anything. The papered walls and carpeted floors resembled that of the Stanley Hotel, the shifter half expecting to see a creepy pair of ghostly twins at the other side of every corner he turned.

"Well," His assistant leant in closer, his rolled up sleeves showing off his forearms, "We can take it slowly, no need to rush into things, given how hectic it's all been lately."

Hosah didn't have anything to say, instead just humming in agreement.

"Anway, when's that specialist appointment?"

Oh, right, the shifter had almost completely forgotten about Doctor whats-his-face.

"September nineteenth." He recalled off the top of his head, exactly one month until Teddy's birthday on the day.

His assistant's head tilted, cheek smushed against his arms, eyebrows angled downward like a sad puppy, "Are you worried about it?"

"Pshh," Hosah scoffed, "No."

The shifter thought it'd be easier to just lie about his true feelings towards the situation. There was enough underlying, heavy tension between the pair as is, given the fact Teddy probably felt he had to walk on eggshells around the shifter, desperately pleading that whatever he did, he didn't hurt the impossibly tiny figure that lay in his hands in the dark.

Besides, Hosah had spent enough time in his life with some kind of caretaker figure. His entire highschool experience was being followed closely by his advocate, the man that would protest for his rights in both the education and the health care system, as well as providing for the shifter as his key worker at the establishment.

Hosah often felt selfish as an adolescent, for having someone whose entire career focus was him. He didn't need someone running after him twenty-four-seven, he could've done just fine if he'd stayed at home and in a regular school, but nobody else in the world believed in him, deciding to dump him off into some professional care setting rather than putting in any effort. Hosah would do anything not to live the way he did over ten years ago.

"... Are you sure you're okay?" Teddy leant in, his face being the only thing in the shifter's line of sight, whispering so nobody would hear their conversation.

Hosah looked anywhere but forward, his hands instinctively running through his uncharacteristically soft hair as he usually did when he was nervous,

"Of course! Why- why wouldn't I be?" The shifter tried his best to put on a smile, but it came off much more awkwardly than true, genuine contentment.

"You've been acting off for the past few days, 's all.." The assistant muttered, sitting up properly in his chair, eyes falling to the floor.

Oh, could it, just maybe, be the aggressive flirting making him act strange? Hosah would've laughed out loud at the idea if he wasn't already feeling a little sickened by his assistant's ability to read his feelings.

"It's just a lot. Or.. the fact that it's not really anything at all.." The shifter wasn't sure what he was getting at either, Teddy's sudden turn to attention with an eyebrow raise proving the statement to be not as good as if sounded in his head.

"I mean- That person who mailed me my own painting. There's been a real dip in missing people, there's been no more parcels, no more notes, just.. Nothing. It's the radio-silence that's stressing me out," Hosah rambled, suddenly being able to perfectly articulate his feelings he wasn't even sure if he fully understood before he opened his mouth,

"At least when they're peering through windows or writing me weird death threat slash love letter manifestos, I know what they're thinking, what they're feeling, I can make an educated guess at their next move."

"I.." Teddy sighed, a little lost for words, "I didn't know that's what you were feeling- or what you were thinking, you need to speak to me more about these kinds of things, instead of bottling it up."

If Hosah were to talk more about his internal conflicts, he'd be nonstop chattering about it, he already opened up about what he was thinking way more than he'd done in his entire life in the short month he and Teddy had known each other for.

"That's what that specialist is for." Hosah said, a slight bit of unintentional annoyance in his tone of voice.

"Still need to talk to me. Communication, it's a very important skill in relationships." The look on the shifter's face as Teddy said that last part probably lead on that using such a word to describe the pair was a little too bold for their current position,

"I mean- given that we're living together now," Quick save, nice.

Hosah scoffed as he spoke, "Only if you start telling me what you're thinking and feeling too."

"Deal." Ah, the shifter wasn't expecting to come to a mutual agreement, half thinking Teddy would back out of the proposal after his ultimatum.

Communicating what was going on in his brain wasn't an entirely foreign concept to the shifter. After going through some good old fashioned court-mandated therapy, Hosah would even consider himself a pro, but that was the main issue at hand. Teddy wasn't his psychiatrist, as much as he'd like to believe otherwise, and given he was being sent back to specialist rehabilitation, the shifter didn't think he'd need the extra mental support.

He'd already given the assistant an unfathomable amount of extra work load, I mean, the guy didn't get a break even in his down time. Every moment Hosah spent in his house, being doted on and chased around after, the worse he felt about the position he was in. Maybe the person who had been watching him was right after all, maybe he really was a leech to those around him, one that sucked all the life out of them and ran away when all got too real.

Suddenly, Hosah felt bad for even being in his voluntarily shrunken form in the first place, although this is how he was the most comfortable, he didn't even think to consider how it was affecting his roommate. Sure, the shifter could just ask Teddy if caring for him was too much on his plate, but making assumptions was the route Hosah usually preferred to take.

"I mean.." The giant's voice above him stopped the shifter's train of thought, "If there's anything you don't want to talk about, that's okay too. Just clarify, I don't want you to think I'm prying or anything, I just think we should be on the same page about these kinds of things, you know?"

Hosah nodded, still not fully all there, he'd appreciate a little leeway in the direction they were headed, although pulling the 'I don't want to talk about it' card would make him feel like he was a hormonal teenager again.

"Well, I think and feel that we should go back to my apartment and get the last few bits of my stuff. Still need to get that gun, see if I have any mail, you know."

The rest of the day seemed to fly by in a confusing daze, the shifter barely able to focus on just about anything with his influx of conflicting thoughts. To be annoyed at the giant, or to not be annoyed, the age old question. On one hand, Hosah had begun to really enjoy the shift in their dynamic, but on the other, the prospect of opening up, of having the giant understand him on such an intimate level, was terrifying.

Whenever the shrunken man stood on Teddy's shoulder like this, it filled him with an unshakable feeling of imbalance, like the giant was leaning to the left, standing on an angle, but it was probably the most satisfying mode of transport out of his other options, giving him a full regular height view of the space around him.

The feeling that overrun the shifter as the pair made their way through the identical labyrinth of hallways was like that of passing by an old place you remembered from your childhood, and seeing it shut down and disheveled right before your very eyes. A sense of overwhelming sadness, mixed with euphoric nostalgia all at once. There was nothing positive to associate his old home with, but just the fact it was his apartment, with his furniture, his own private space, was enough to fill anyone with a sense of pride.

Hosah's heart thumped in his throat as his assistant fumbled for the keys to open the familiar teal door that stood in front of them, afraid of what he'll see on the inside, almost closing his eyes entirely as it dramatically creaked open.

And there it was, exactly how he'd left it.

It seemed even the giant was nervous as he cautiously stepped inside of the bare bones living space, Hosah feeling the skin he stood so close to radiate a familiar heat as the palms bigger than his entire body clammed up.

Despite having one of those little cubbies for mail down in the lobby, Hosah's old apartment also had a little mail slot in the aged door. When he peered down, it was clear someone was trying to contact him, with the entrance mat being completely covered with cards and letters.

"What are all of those?" The shifter asked, grabbing onto the cinnamon hair for support as he got his footing between the shirt collar and the shoulder of the giant on which he stood on.

Teddy scooped up about a third of the mail in both of his hands, placing it all down onto the coffee table before muttering, "Seems like they've all been hand delivered."

This theory was proven as the nervous hand turned them all to face upward, with nothing being written on the envelopes besides Hosah's full legal name, no address, no return address.

"Teddy, go get the gun." The shifter's voice shook as he spoke, afraid the person who'd been stalking him could be hiding in any of the dark corners of his abandoned apartment.

Teddy listened immediately, making a rush over to where he recalled being told the weapon was kept. The absolute silence of the complex was the most terrifying part of the experience. Usually, there was always some kind of noise, whether that be his right side neighbour's baby crying deep into the night, or his left side neighbour's insane bass boosted coughing, there was never a moments peace in the building. But now was different. If it had been this way last month, Hosah would've thought, 'Finally, some quiet around here', but now he longed for the noise he'd learnt to tune out over the years.

Upon entering the bedroom, the giant rifled through the cluttered storage closet, following Hosah's directions to the safe with undoubtable accuracy. The closet was the one space throughout the entire apartment that had more than two items of furniture to fill it, being almost impossible to navigate with just how compact and filled the space was. Teddy moved whatever he could, making a mess of the bedroom the closet resided in all the while, only to see, under all of the long finished canvases and empty paint containers, somebody had gotten to it before them.

The little black metallic box had been opened and looted, the password being the anniversary of his uncles death, a fact Hosah didn't really go around sharing with just about anyone who'd listen.

".. Where the fuck is it?" The shifter knew exactly where it'd be, in the possession of a highly dangerous individual, but his fear overran his ability to think logically.

The fact of the matter was, the gun didn't even really matter all that much. Even people with diagnosed schizophrenia on their records could go and purchase one if they so desired. The most terrifying part of it all was the mass amounts of letters.

It had barely been three weeks since the first parcel delivery, and in that time, at least a hundred hand written cards had been mailed to his address, all probably detailing incredibly private parts of his life with precision, an undeniable accuracy that truly terrified the shifter.

Hosah could just hope his past wasn't something the stalker was open to using as leverage against him, although at this point, nothing was off limits when it came to his perpetual psychological torment.

The lack of noise didn't just keep to the other residents of the building, as Teddy hadn't made a peep either. If even he was scared, the shifter was fucked completely. In silence, the giant moved back into the main living area, headed straight to the kitchen presumably for a glass of water to cool down from the stress of the situation.

Whilst the giant was preoccupied at the sink, Hosah took it upon himself to scan the tiled roomed the pair had rushed into, his eyes landing straight on the counter top opposite them.

I guess that answered the question of the missing gun.

#g/t #giant tiny #g/t ocs #gianttiny #sfw g/t #giant/tiny #oc hosah #oc teddy #Puparia_tag #Ough Love ❤️ but Oughhhh communication 😒😒 and Oughhh being a stalking victim 😒😒😒#g/t author #g/t writing

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respectthepetty · 1 year

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Following your last post. Are you able to summarise or explain why you love Taiwan BL so much?

I ask because I too love Taiwanese BLs but……I can’t pin point why. Is it because the first ones I watched was top tier?! (Loooking at you fighting Mr2nd and History4) or is there a different frame work that draws us in?

I don’t know and can’t seem to explain it so I has rushed here after your post and express my need for you to someone explain or put into words, WHY WE LOVE TAIWANESE GAYS?!?

Anon, I've listed a few times why I love Taiwanese BLs (like here and here), but I love them soooooo much, I will gladly do it again!

Strangely enough, I have an ask sitting patiently in my inbox requesting I rank the HIStory franchise, but since I love Taiwanese BLs, it's hard for me to pick between my favorites, which I had to do for Taiwanese BLs in general when I was asked to rank my top five. However, HIStory 4: Close to You rules above ALL BLs regardless of country. I love it! It is the best. I will fight people and their pets for it.

But you know I cannot keep things short, so . . .

10 Reasons I Love Taiwanese BLs

*presented in no particular order*

The shows are visually pleasing.

The cinematography especially the color editing and the lighting are good quality. As a color demon, I've noticed the emphasis on colors even in Taiwanese non-BL series I've watched. I'm superficial. They're pretty!

The men are visually pleasing.

Beyond the production aesthetics, the actors themselves are easy on the eyes. Every single main character is unexpectedly hiding a body-ody-ody under his clothes which he reveals in the most natural ways. The camera doesn't linger on the body. The bodies are just bodies. But they are oh-so-very pretty bodies.

The attraction is obvious.

Taiwanese BLs are high heat. The characters will flirt. They will stare longingly at each other. They will playfully touch each other. They will have sex. The characters want each other, physically, and we see that. And it won't be saved until the final episode. The attraction develops in a way that feels natural, and if there is hesitation regarding sex, once they figure out the mechanics, the characters embody the "practice makes perfect" motto.

The beds are used.

Domesticity is at the core of a Taiwanese BL. We see characters cooking in kitchens, often. We see them sleeping in beds without sex being involved. An entire scene can be focused around the characters doing household chores such as laundry, washing dishes, or mopping. The characters are building a home together as partners, and we constantly see that.

The families are caring.

For every shitty family member, there are three others who are determined to win a PFLAG award. We see characters' siblings, parents, and found family members being supportive of their relationship and fighting other family members who step out of line.

The secondary pairs deliver.

When the story isn't focusing on the main couple, I still care about the second (and sometimes third) pair. Their stories might not always be fully fleshed out, but they don't distract from the main couple nor make me want to skip over their parts. The secondary couples are also involved in the stories outside of their romance. They are connected to the overall story and help to push the narrative forward.

The couples are queer.

This seems like a given since we are dealing with BLs, but Taiwan has delivered very few high school and university BLs, and even when it does, they aren't presented as a coming-of-age story. Characters already know they are queer, or if they realize it, they don't panic. For example, in About Youth, both characters confessed they hadn't kissed anyone before, but it wasn't depicted as an "ah-I'm-gay" moment. Even in DNA Says Love You, the reveal wasn't cause for a crisis; it was a moment of relief. In my fave, HIStory 4, the main character realized he liked his friend, sat on that revelation, then licked his friend's mouth and told him he loved him. Very pro kissing-the-homies.

The couples are adults.

Because Taiwan hasn't produced many high school and university BLs, a majority of its shows are focused on adults, with jobs, and families, and baggage. As mentioned above, the main conflict is never a character understanding his queerness. It's usually him trying to balance his relationship with all the other issues life brings him like a work deadline, the mafia, or ghosts. You know, adult issues.

The couples are enemies-to-lovers, lite.

My favorite kind of couple dynamic is "I'll kill (for) him" and Taiwan knows how to deliver this. Even when couples move past the enemies stage, there are moments when they look at each other as if they could kill each other, and that warms my heart. The couples argue. They fight. They plot each other's murders. Then they eat dinner together and hold each other in bed. Love isn't all rainbows and sunshine in these BLs, and Taiwan shows that it's not just about who will fight with you, but who will fight for you that matters.

The country has marriage equality!

I'm going to get political - I don't even believe in the institution of marriage, but I'll throw hands for everyone's right to marriage equality. People deserve the right to get married, and Taiwan granted its people that right in 2019; then, this year, it made it legal for same-sex couples to jointly adopt a child. Taiwan has a tension-filled relationship with China due to disputes about Taiwan's independence, and we all know how China censors the homos. Therefore, I love Taiwanese BLs flexing its gay rights muscle all of the time. Other countries are fighting the good fight for their rights, but if it came down to my last little international dollar, I want to support the countries that support us and not those that are profiting off our community without investing in our community members' rights. So at the end of the day . . .

I love whatever Taiwan gives me.

So these are the reasons I know Kiseki: Dear to Me will be one of my favorites.

The show and the men are visually pleasing. It is giving us queer adult couples stacked on top of other queer adult couples then cameos of even more queer adult couples. We've gotten enemies-to-friendly roommates, where the attraction is obvious, so now we must wait for the lovers part even though they had already cooked, cleaned, and slept in the bed by the second episode. When we meet the families of these crazy little bastards, we are going to love them.

Oh, and there will be a proposal.

TAIWAN SUPREMACY!

#Taiwanese BLs #I love them because they are queer #Kiseki: Dear to Me WILL be a favorite #HIStory franchise needs to give me HIStory 6: Freed #RIGHT NOW!#Let my man be free

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hello-nichya-here · 2 months

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Do you think Juan was in love with Lucrezia too and that's why Cesare hated him?

When I first watched the show, that was the furthest thing from my mind, mostly because Juan annoyed me to no end, but after seeing an interview in which the actor said he always felt his character was upset that he couldn't join Cesare and Lucrezia, I paid more attention to him on my rewatches - mainly to Juan's pattern of trying to murder the men his sisters falls in love with.

Because of that, yes, I think Juan, whether he knew it or not, was likely interested in sleeping with Lucrezia, but he was not in love with her - at least not in the same way Cesare was.

It's no coincidence that Cesare humiliated and killed Lucrezia's abusive husband as revenge for raping her, while Juan didn't do shit about it. That Juan threatened Lucrezia's son, while Cesare was fighting for her right keep him around after remarrying. That her first two love interests died by Juan's hand, while Cesare tried to save them and even hesitated to kill her second husband (until he started posing a threat by making it clear he'd snitch on them about the incest) because "I would not harm that which my sister loves."

Both relationships can be summarised by Lucrezia's line of "Only a Borgia can truly a Borgia." For her and Cesare that means "As family, we understand and care for each other in a way no one else could, we have to stick together", while for Juan it means "Everyone else is inferior to us."

Juan has one hell of big ego and is constantly trying to seem more competent than he actually is - to the point that he doesn't want to marry A KING'S DAUGHTER because she's illegitimate, even though he couldn't stop fucking her, even after she married the youngest Borgia (and was then written out of existence with him).

He literally corrects a prostitute who called him "The Pope's bastard" by saying he is the Pope's SON. And when he acts with disgusted towards Lucrezia's child for being illegitimate, he dismisses her point about him being a major hypocrite by reminding her "I'm a BORGIA bastard."

Juan's family is important and he's well aware of it - he uses it as sword and shield for everything. It would not surprise me if he either became interested in Lucrezia because she's the one woman that isn't "lesser" or at least uses "Well, I'm a Borgia" to avoid any guilt he could feel over his attraction towards her.

Now, don't get me wrong, he DOES have that strong feeling of belonging, understanding and family as well - but he has it towards RODRIGO, and to a lesser extent, Cesare himself.

He looks genuinely afraid and devastated at the rumor that either him or Cesare isn't actually a product of their mother's affair with Rodrigo, but rather the legitimate child she had with her actual husband (again, that's despite the fact that Juan has a complex about being a bastard, which says a lot), he clearly wants his father's approval, and his death happens after he tried to give CESARE a way to get rid of all his pain through drugs.

But while he can show affection towards Lucrezia sometimes, he doesn't show the same reverence and respect (however grudging, like with Cesare). I think that happens for a few reasons:

1 - Misogyny. Juan was always very aggressive in any sexual situation, and we see that he is not at all above full on assaulting a woman to deal with his anger - hell, he rapes an innocent girl that just happened to walk past him because he's mad at a different woman for humiliating him, and since said woman is not around, he just grabs the first vulnerable peson he sees.

Lucrezia might be spared of that because she's family, but you can't expect a violent misogyny to ever be too kind to any woman. Again, that's why he killed two of her lovers and threatened her child -Juan is being violent towards the men (or boys) around her because he can't/won't give himself permission of being violent towards her directly. Lucrezia is to him what Ursula was to Cesare, an object of affection/obsession, not an equal.

2 - Lucrezia's age. Not only is Lucrezia the youngest (at least after Joffrey was written out of existence), at the start of the show she's still 14 while both of her older brothers are already adults. Juan is not going to take a literal child seriously. It's just not gonna happen. And because the age gap is much larger, I think part of him will always see her as a little girl (even Cesare feels like that to some extent).

3 - Lucrezia's (former?) kind nature. There's a reason he looks shaken when she tries to kill him, even though he just murdered the father of her child. Juan legit did not know his sister was capable of matching his violence if he pushed her too far - and Cesare only killed him after LUCREZIA basically gave him the order/green light. This man was playing with fire and had no fucking idea. To him, she was just his naive, innocent, harmless younger sister. She's to be cherished and protected, not taken seriously like their father and brother.

Now, while I think the fact that Juan 100% knew something was going on between his siblings (he was even the first character to openly acknowledge it, for God's sake) mostly likely played a role in why he loved pissing Cesare off so much, I don't think Lucrezia was in anyway a factor on why Cesare hated Juan (again, until he started hurting her by harming the people she cared about) because:

1 - Cesare might be in denial sometimes, but he knows damn well he is his sister's soulmate. She even say's "I could never love a husband as much as I love YOU." Their brother was far less of a threat than her already mediocre lovers, whom Cesare didn't really have too many issues with - and honestly, Juan probably took NOT being seen as a legitimate rival on that regard as a deep insult.

2 - Cesare, just like Juan, desperately wants Rodrigo's approval, and his whole complex is about their father giving his brother far more freedom and praise than he ever got.

They had the Caim and Abel vibes for a LONG time.

#asks #the borgias #juan borgia #cesare x lucrezia #cesare borgia #lucrezia borgia #borgiacest #juan x lucrezia

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liberty-or-death · 1 year

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Wangxian Poems "Envious of the green hills that have the serenity of one that’s deep in thought, or the white crane that has forgotten the ways of the world and has a tranquil heart. " (Eight Sounds of Ganzhou. Picking Unripened Plums to Accompany My Wine 八声甘州·摘青梅荐酒 by Tang Hui 汤恢)

There are a few poems that possibly inspired Wangxian. All these poems are widely discussed among the chinese fans so I thought I’d share it everyone. Anyway they’re all really lovely 😍😍😍

The “Eight Sounds of Ganzhou. Picking Unripened Plums to Accompany My Wine. 八声甘州·摘青梅荐酒” is a Ci written by Tang Hui 汤恢, poet in the Southern Song Dynasty. The “Eight Songs of Ganzhou” is a specific ci pattern.

摘青梅荐酒，甚残寒，犹怯苎萝衣。

Picking unripened plums to accompany my wine. It was bitterly cold, and filled with worries over my ramie made clothes.

T/N: Ramie was weaved by people who lived in the mountains into clothes.

正柳腴花瘦，绿云冉冉，红雪霏霏。

The willows trees are lush, the flowers are withering; like green clouds flowing slowly, and red snow falling like rain.

隔屋秦筝依约，谁品春词？

The house next door has a date with the qin zheng, just who is singing the songs of springs?

T/N: 春词 - This either means the song of springs or words of love between a couple. The Qin Zheng is a musical instrument

回首繁华梦，流水斜晖。

Look back, the former thriving prosperity was like a dream, like the river that flows way and the setting sun.

寄隐孤山山下，但一瓢饮水，深掩苔扉。

I reside at the bottom of the Mount Lu. But I live frugally as I drink from the ladle and cover the door filled with moss.

T/N: Mount Gu is an island on the West Lake of Hangzhou. Gu 孤 also means Lonely so you could also interpret this as the “lonely mountain”. It’s a popular spots for poets in the Tang and Song Dynasty. Bai Juyi and Su Shi have also written poems about it.

羡青山有思，白鹤忘机。

I’m envious (Xian) of the green hills that have the serenity of one that’s deep in thought, or the white crane that has forgotten the ways of the world and has a tranquil heart. (Wangji)

Wangxian’s names are mentioned here. If you do a quick search with of line, you’ll find numerous chinese wangxian fanworks.

怅年华、不禁搔首，又天涯、弹泪送春归。

The passage of time is worrying, and I can’t help but scratch my head anxiously. My tears send Spring off towards the end of the world again.

销魂远，千山啼鴂，十里荼麋。

At this moment, the Koel sorrowful cries echoes in the mountains. The raspberry flower is blooming everywhere.

T/N: Legend has it that when the Emperor Wang Di entered seclusion and passed on, he died and his soul became a Koel. Hence, when Spring goes and when the Koel cries out sadly, the people of Shu would say “I look forward to the emperor’s soul”, as though the Koel is sending Spring off.

My Analysis

This poem summarises Tang Hui’s feelings. He was staying in seclusion in the West Lake Mountains, but yet he wants to return to live with others, and he yearns for his love of the Northern Song Dynasty. The first part of the poem is about what the poet is doing, and the second part’s about his envy and love for his Dynasty.

Firstly, I was struck by how said sad and how forlorn wangxian’s namesake’s line is. If we break down it down, essentially it describes someone that loves the silence of the musing mountains, and how the crane remains unbothered by the world. It’s such an apt line given that the cultivational world wangxian lived in really hurt them.

The reference of the “plum” and the “white crane” is said to be a reference to Lin Bu 林逋, the Confucian poet who planted plums and raised cranes, and didn’t marry for the rest of his life. His actions gave birth to the idiom “梅妻鹤子 to marry the plum, and raise the cranes for his son”, which means to lead a life of seclusion and attain a tranquil state of mind. (wangxian living in seclusion and living happily ever after? HAHA)

Another thing that struck me was, was this the reason why CQL put a white crane in the wangxian moment? It clearly wasn’t a key point because there’s a clip of Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo debating about the existence of the crane, of which Xiao Zhan forgot about it, and Wang Yibo insisted it was there. The crane was never in the book, and I always thought it was a mere decorative feature but now I don’t think so 🧐. Perhaps the directors were paying tribute to this poem? And is this the reason why lwj is often painted in white?

Personally, I did find it interesting though, that the c fandom would associate this poem with wangxian, because unlikely the other themes Wangxian has been associated with (Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s name respectively), this poem talks about someone who IS in seclusion, who wants to go back to society. Though yes, if you did focus on Wangxian's namesake's line (羡青山有思，白鹤忘机) in isolation, the poet is envious of those who can stay away from the ways of the world. Whereas in the other poems, and in the novel itself, it was clearly the other way around. That’s just my two cents though! Either way, it’s a really pretty poem. 😍

You can check out @fwoopersongs's alternative translation here!

#mdzs #mdzs meta #cql #cql meta #Wangxian #wei wuxian #Lan wangji #Lan Zhan #wei ying

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alianoralacanta · 2 months

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Fisichella Defence (21-12-2006)

Context: The flame wars one sees on Tumblr and other social media in 2024 are nothing new. Back in the mid-2000s, fora were full of them. In F1, these tended to go down a few clear lines: Michael Schumacher vs some people's version of how sport should be conducted Michael Schumacher vs Alonso Michael Schumacher vs Raikkonen (you may detect a theme here) Both Schumachers vs Montoya McLaren vs Ferrari Williams vs McLaren Villenueve vs whatever he was arguing about this weekend One forum-specific flame war that was none of the above. In one of the general forums I was in at the time, the specific flame war was manufacturer teams vs any independent not named Williams (it was that specific flame war which split the forum in the first place, due to its two admins being on either side of the argument). The Team Silverstone forum flame war was Team Silverstone vs people who thought that specific team shouldn't exist (I eventually ended that one in mid-2007, due to a typo). The forum where La Canta Magnifico Blog was based had Giancarlo Fisichella vs Juan Pablo Montoya.These days, people generally accept that it is possible to like both Giancarlo and Juan Pablo at the same time (this is often the eventual outcome of flame wars where there is neither a clear winner nor reason for long-term rancour). However, this particular corner of the internet had not yet come to that conclusion. Even after Juan Pablo Montoya had found his happiness elsewhere in motorsport, people on the forum still argued about whether he was better than Giancarlo Fisichella. I don't have the forum post that clearly prompted this blog entry, but the gist of it is that Juan Pablo Montoya was being defended on the basis that he had some great video clips on YouTube (back before FOM started issuing copyright notices to the platform, which started happening in summer 2007). As the most prominent Fisico fan on the forum (as well as its most long-winded), I felt the need to respond…

The reasons there are few videos of Fisichella doing great stuff (and some do exist, though copyright forbids me from linking to them) are the facts that he does his races quietly and has a tidy driving style. None of JPM's wheel-locking or massive slides are in evidence unless Fisi's having a really bad day, and it's always more difficult for a camera person to convey excitement when there is no feeling that the driver is out of control. While keeping just the right side of that boundary in a dramatic way is commendable and fan-attracting, the smoother, quieter method usually generates more race speed from the car.

It's no accident that the only top-level drivers using the just-in-control driving styles are Juan Pablo Montoya, Jacques Villenueve and Fernando Alonso. Montoya got it to semi-work in a rather understeery McLaren and messy Williams, Villenueve's not managed to co-operate properly with a car since he went to BAR and Fernando Alonso has created a new variant of just-in-control driving that nobody else has yet managed to emulate.

Picking a single definitive race is tricky because Fisi has had so many really good races. Taking just those races starting from when I paid particular attention to Giancarlo's races, anything from the the start of 2001 through to about two-thirds of the way through 2003 (apart from Malaysia 2003), USA 2003, anything in 2004 after about race three except Monaco, Australia 2005, Canada 2005, the last third of 2005, Malaysia 2006, the American leg of 2006 and the last third of 2006 will show elements of why Giancarlo is in the top 5 drivers and has been for a long time. Simply because he doesn't have ten fifteen-second-long race incidents that summarise the true scope of his ability the way Juan Pablo or any other "just-in-control" driver will have doesn't mean there is nothing to summarise. Though if I had to pick the one that best shows why Fisi is better than JPM, it would be Brazil 2003. Notwithstanding the rain factor, there was also the part where the notoriously unreliable Ford in the back of Fisichella's car had been sounding slightly off since about lap 49. However Giancarlo got the car past the red flag before the engine finally blew up. Not only would Juan Pablo not won the 2003 race, he would have induced a technical retirement. However, the cameras missed most of Giancarlo's race as they were too busy keeping up with spinners at Turn 3 and Raikkonen passing everyone except Fisi.

This also helps to explain the video situation, as having a few widely-recognised key situations forming the videos is the quickest way of building up search ranking. That helps explain why JPM's best-known incidents are always going to be very high on the video search list.

As for the the part about it being only legend that the driver must make the team work, it's a fact. Everyone in a group has to support everyone else in the group to succeed, and teams are no different. Simply because teams are usually predisposed to helping their drivers and Ron Dennis clearly hadn't recruited Juan Pablo to be an "after you, Claude" No. 2, doesn't mean that Juan Pablo didn't need to do any work to maintain that. From the F1 Racing September 2006 article, Juan never took any time to gel with the McLaren team setup, which apparently was causing trouble long before the tennis incident. Juan should have known fitting in would take work and if he wasn't prepared to do it, he should have found another berth for 2005 (there would have been plenty open to him at that point on the open market!)

That is why I hold Juan largely responsible for his having to leave McLaren in the first place. In fact this is the second time it's happened, with Juan Pablo unable to co-operate with Williams enough to extend his original contract there either. The fact that he chose the timing of his leavetaking is great, but surely it's better to do what Fisi did and put some effort into nurturing the team that's giving you the car? That's why the Renault people have bent over backwards to protect Fisi where necessary when McLaren would do no more than it usually did to protect Montoya when he erred.

Team building may not be a major factor in driver ranking, but when the raw speed statistics do not help separate Juan Pablo and Giancarlo very much, and the differences in results almost entirely attributable to cars rather than drivers, then things like the ability to become a No. 1 in a team suddenly play a major role in the decision.

It's worth saying that in the olden days when cars ran close to each other, these skills were still necessary - it was simply that they were taken more for granted because the whole motorsport community was closer-knit back then - in fact the drivers had to do more back then to get into their teams' good books. Do you think it was an accident that a lot of the drivers back then had some background as a mechanic before reaching F1?

If Renault was not confident of Fisi, they'd've given Nelson Piquet Jr. his place. As it happens, Fisi is not only considerably more experience of Renault and F1, but also a very fast, consistent driver who is capable of leading a team - and of being a better driver than Juan Pablo Montoya was.

#lcmb #la canta magnifico blog #f1 #archive post #giancarlo fisichella #I was clearly getting better at this blogging thing because I was spelling Villenueve's name correctly #if you briefly saw this post a couple of days ago #oops-a-daisy

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