~

hi anon!! thank you so muchhhh

it's been over a year that this poor ask has been sitting in my inbox djajsjd sorry about that ; v ;

so yes. the og version of the grace and thomas scene in dear christopher was still the conversation between the two but a little different. thomas wasn't going to invite her to the wake but rather stay out in the fields with her and reminisce about kit. and at the end they would have gone their separate ways, thomas to the wake and grace... someplace else

I forgive you, let me count the ways

1, 2, ✌️ tiddies

😜

Look at this adorable doofus though 💔

Giant virtual Hugs for this dork 🤗🤗🤗 because I'll probably never get to give him a real one

I hope whatever he is up to, or wherever he might be, that he is feeling well and happy, and knows there are still people here waiting for him on the other side of this mess and the end of this shitshow

Take care of yourself Christopher 🙏

The deep red glow of fire is beautiful to look at. Most of the pyre has burnt away now, the foundations having collapsed into a blazing heap some minutes ago. The crash was tremendous, a cacophony of cracking logs and splintering timber as the structure fell into itself. It was enough to see a handful of the congregation move away and start to leave the funeral, the whites and reds of their mourning clothes stark against the billowing black cloud of smoke and ashes.       Not for Thomas and the other Lightwoods. Not for their close family and friends either. Gabriel and Cecily are approached by those leaving, politely offering their condolences and sympathies. Gabriel takes them in stride as best he can with his heart crushed on his sleeve for the world to see. Cecily stares stonily at the remains of her son’s pyre, clutching Sophie’s hands like a vice as every commiseration falls on deaf ears.       Flecks of black float up towards the clouds and settle on the frosty grass of the Fields. Thomas watches them, thinking how stark they would look should it start to snow: white snowflakes burning in the sky, swallowed by the mouth of a dark, foggy beast.       There is something oddly beguiling about it. As is the nature of Shadowhunter funerals themselves. The fallen rise to the heavens through raging flames and black clouds: phoenixes awaiting their return beyond the river’s banks.       It’s a whisper in the wind, sounding strangely like Will Herondale, but it rocks the world underneath Thomas’s feet.       Pulvis et umbra sumus.       We are but dust and shadows.

Dear Christopher,

I know you guys lurk 😉🤫

This is just a quick thank you for Cap/Steve

I know you may have had your doubts in taking this role once, but you embodied this character so completely and perfectly for an incredibly grateful audience and fanbase so well that even in our elderly years if they ever tried to recast Steve Rogers....we would riot. Don't ever forget that.

Nobody in the real world could ever live up to the character of Steve Rogers - real people are flawed and imperfect and make human mistakes - but in my opinion that only says more about your talent and abilities as an actor.

I can't wait to see you do it again soon 🙏

This fandom has been watching those gorgeous little sprinkles slowly come through in that beard awaiting the arrival of their well deserved DILF era ☺️😜 I know I'm not alone in that.

Some fans may not be able to see through the BS right now, but those of us that know, and understand more than some will let others realise, we are still here, and still excited for what's to come next for our Fav!

I hope that beautiful pure soul is giving you lots of the love you deserve. Finding Dodger was Kismet in my opinion if you believe in that sort of thing, and I definitely do. He's YOUR real soulmate 💙 and yours alone.

Hope things are looking up for you, keep the faith and keep well

Much love, 💜🪽🌟

Dear Christopher

Your image will never recover because you decided to play along with the stupid lies your C's make degrees publicist team put out there against your actual fandom and all of those who spent time defending you

You do not deserve the amount of time, effort or money that has been spent at the expense of others over your precious "image"

You have shown not only your fandom that held you up all of these years but the entire world that you are nothing but a spineless git who will never stand up and do the right thing if it does not directly benefit you or your bank account

You have chosen to stay silent during what may turn out to be one of the most important turning points in history

You were absolutely dead wrong about any part of the character that made you famous rubbing off on you, you are nothing alike and never will be

You use the excuse of "remaining neutral" for the benefit of your website to hide behind instead if your long gone fandom who abandoned you because of your own bad choices

Stop hiding behind the lies and rumours they've spun out of the fandom, you've had ample opportunity to set the record straight properly and you've actively chosen not to

I have a word for people like that, Ostrich Managers, they like to run and hide instead of apologising for the shit they did to other people making them run around and do the work for them so they don't have to do anything, passive aggressive narcissists

You sit silent, and yet you claim to understand the meaning of the word and what it means to remain so

Theres neutrality, and then theres avoidance of responsibility and lying to get out of it

You are a failure of an actor and a piece of shit human being; how you continue to participate being a Hollywood puppet and retain any personal integrity is beyond my comprehension

At least if you actually got angry about something we'd know you actually possessed real human emotions

Even fucking AI bots have done more work than you have to combat whats happening out there in the world right now, even I have and I have far less of everything by comparison but I still actively choose to show up every day and do the work that I can for the benefit of other people, not because they asked me to, but because its what I want to leave behind in this world is far more important than what people think of me

I'm nobody with nothing, and yet I still possess far more than you will ever be able to obtain

      Something inside Thomas shakes him like an earthquake. The natural solution would be to return the bear to Alexander, since Christopher doesn’t need it anymore, and it would be a way to remember his older brother. But with the way Matthew’s grip seems to suddenly strengthen around the toy, perhaps the true solution lies elsewhere.       ‘Math.’ Thomas places a hand on Matthew’s shoulder and it stiffens under his touch. ‘Keep it. He’d want you to have it.’       Though he can’t see his face, Thomas has a feeling he’s fighting back tears.       ‘And I can do this on my own if you need a moment to yourself,’ he continues. ‘It’s more than alright.’       To Thomas’s surprise, a strangled-sounding laugh bursts from Matthew’s mouth. He shakes his head and looks up at Thomas: his eyes are rimmed red, tears streaking his cheeks, but he’s smiling.       ‘No, Tom,’ he says gently, ‘it’s alright. As you say, the world doesn’t stop because you feel overwhelmed.’ Glancing down fondly at the bear in his hands, he runs his thumbs over its furry cheeks. ‘Besides, we need to honour our lad in some way, don’t we? Even if it’s simply giving his things a new purpose. Not the bear, of course. I shall keep it in a safe place.’       To emphasise his point, Matthew tries to tuck the toy into one of his waistcoat pockets. It sticks out rather comically, its poor legs squashed and half its body slumped over the edge, but its new home is sure and true. ...       ‘I’m going to tell you what a wise woman said to me once,’ he tells her, his throat tight, ‘when my world was crashing down and I didn’t know which way was up. When I was too focused on making sure everyone else was alright and forgot about myself.’       Cecily’s lips curve into a dry smile, obviously aware of what Thomas is referring to. ‘And what piece of wisdom did this woman bestow upon you, Thomas?’       Thomas tells her verbatim, in an almost casual manner as one does when stating what’s for tea. He says it clearly and firmly and with as much passion as he can muster, because that’s how much he believes in the words. They meant so much to him all these months, and they continue to mean so much to him now.       At first, when the words settle in the air between them, nothing happens. Cecily merely gawks at him, her eyes round, startled, and Thomas gazes at her beseechingly. ...       ‘So cry, my child. Cry, and cry, and cry until you cannot cry anymore.’