So. I love Caryl. I want them to be together. And as much as I would welcome *any* unambiguously romantic overture between these characters, I'm at the point where I feel like it almost *has* to come from Daryl to Carol, else there's always going to be that plausible deniability thing with people that ship him with characters X,Y, and Z and the molded tofurkey he probably found on a run that one time, y'all.
I mean. I see the chemistry, the continuously deepening feelings and the slow (as Christmas because Gimps sucks donkey ass at pacing) progression from two damaged people that just met in the middle of traumatic circumstances to two damaged people that are each other’s human credential if you will, but others out there?
They either genuinely don’t or simply refuse to, and that’s okay. To each their own. Really. They can ship Carol or Daryl with aliens and a butt boil for all that I care because that is their absolute right.
At the same time, though, I want Gimps and Co. to make it plain, once and for all, that Daryl wants her as a man wants a woman. That she’s the one he wants by his side, trying and starting over as they take back their lives and just live instead of survive. That she’s simply it, his reason, the one thing or person that he’s holding on to (as Morgan says…they’re all holding on to something) in this mixed up world.
I want it to be settled, finally. No more, but you could read it this way if you were wearing these color shipper goggles. I mean, yeah. Mine are Cherokee Rose tinted, but whatever. The response these two get whenever Gimps baits that nifty, nasty little hook of his tells me there are so many others out there that wear the same color shades.
So yeah. Batter up, Daryl Dixon. It’s your turn to complete that transition from boy to man. Do it for her because she deserves it. No more ambiguity and no more pussyfooting around (goes for you, too, Gimps).
A biographical sketch by Georgina Schuyler, written to her niece, Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton.
(Letter accompanying photography of a portrait of her namesake,
Mrs. Alexander Hamilton)
37 Madison Ave
June 21st 1908
My Dear Elizabeth
This is the day of your ___ and this letter is written to you—to
give given to you when you are older, with the portrait of the lady for whence
you are named, Elizabeth Schuyler, afterwards Mrs. Alexander Hamilton. She was your father’s great-grandmother, and
my great grandmother. But though she
lived so long ago, some of us still remember her, and all of us love her
because she was so lovely, good and king; and we hope you too will love and be
She was born on the 9th of August, 1757, and was the
daughter of General Philip Schuyler, of Albany, and she, and her father, and
mother, and brothers and sisters lived in a large house just outside the City
of Albany, overlooking the Hudson River.
It was called “the Pastures,” and is still standing, though the city
streets are all about it now.
When this portrait was painted, in 1787, Mrs. Hamilton had been
married eight years, and had three little children. Two years later, in 1789, her husband was
appointed by Washington Secretary of the Treasury. The President and Cabinet then lived in New
York City and at the Hamilton house there were dances and parties and many
people coming and going—Wednesday evening was their reception evening. Marie Antoinette, was then the Queen of
France. She wore the same kind of high
head dress you see in the portrait—it was the Fashion of the day. Mrs. Hamilton’s older sister Angelica, Mrs. Church, had
married an Englishman and lived in Paris and in London for many years. Mr. & Mrs. Church knew many French people
noblemen and ___. Most sought refuge in
England during the French Revolution; and a number of the gentlemen came to
America introduced by Mrs. Church to her sister and brother-in-law. Mrs. Hamilton was kind and hospitable to them
and they needed kindness in exile from their country, sad and lonely, separated
from their family.
For it was Mrs. Hamilton’s kindness and the nature of her
disposition that attracted people. She
was not so very pretty—not as pretty as her older sister—but she was good
tempered, and everyone liked her. There
was a young gentleman from Maryland, Mr. Tilghman, an aid de camp of General
Washington, who stayed at her father’s house when she was a girl. He writes that she had “the most good
natured, dark, lovely eyes I ever saw,” and everyone one told him how sweet
tempered she was. She was also active
and fearless. They all went on a picnic
near Albany; and he describes how Miss Betsey Schuyler climbed up the banks of
the waterfall, and jumped from rock to rock, declining all assistance, and
making merry at the fears of the other girls.
Mr. Carroll of Maryland was detained at the country place of her
father, General Schuyler, at Saratoga, for a week, owing to the illness of old
Mr. Benjamin Franklin. [He] writes what a pleasant week he had passed. He was very much older than Miss Betsey, but
he found her and her sister very good company, so bright and cheerful, and
ready and glad to take not of older people.
Miss Betsey was straight forward and simple in her manner. One of the French gentleman speaks of her in
later years—of her simplicity and adds that “she is a charming woman.”
So, when this portrait was painted, she had passed through a
happy girlhood, and was most happily married.
She was a devoted wife. She
appreciated her husband’s genius and she did all she possibly could to help
him. He had to work very hard to support
his family (he was a lawyer by profession) and whenever possible, he was
pre-occupied with public affairs. But
he, too, was kind and wished to help people when they were in trouble and so
this is the story of the portrait:
The artist, Mr. Earle, had made debts he could not pay, and was
put in the New York City Debtor Prison (such was the law of those days). Mr. Hamilton was sorry for him and worked to
get [him] out, and consulted his wife as to the best way of doing so. She decided that she would dress and visit
the Debtors Prison and ask for her portrait there,
in a room that was set apart for Mr. Earle to paint her in. She persuaded the ladies to do the same
thing. They also came to the prison and
sat for their portraits; and son Mr. Earle had made enough money to pay his
debts, get out of prison, and be a free man once more: Thanks to her we have
the portrait, and the memory of her kind heart.
This story was told to me by her son James, my Grandfather Hamilton, who
loved to tell it of his mother.
In her later life she had great sorrows, and showed much
strength of character. Her husband’s
death left her with many children to support and educate, and but little
fortune with which to do so. However,
they all grew up and made their way, and then she thought of other children,
poor children left without money or father to care for them, and she helped to
found the first orphan asylum in New York City.
She also took into her home a little orphan girl and brought her up and
started her in life. She lived to a great
age. I remember perfectly her sweet old
face and her white hair under her cap as she used to sit in the ball at Nevis
where now this very portrait hangs.
I am my dear little Elizabeth
To Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton
source: Columbia University, Hamilton Family Papers
“Hiddleston” needs to become a verb, like “I’m going to Hiddleston the hell out of this thing” meaning I’m going to find something I love to dedicate my life and give my whole heart and soul to, and talk about with passion and truth and shining eyes and a face lit up like the sun so that everywhere I go I inspire every single person I encounter.