#mayhaps even with christopher

[passiveagressivepoet]

8x06 confessions but what if it’s just EDDIE CONFESSING that he needs to go to texas and get his LITERAL CHILD

[kijeu]

favourite bang chan fancams 6 / ∞ [ 221012 show champion - case 143 ⋆ ]

bonus chans under the cut <3

look at his baby smile AAAA

[danopdf]

The Cutting Edge [Joe Liebgott/David Webster] - chapter 1

chapter 1 - lace up!

pairing: joseph liebgott x david webster, [hockey player x figure skater au]

The Cutting Edge (1992 film) Rewrite

word count: 3149

summary: Stuck-up figure skater David Webster has his gold medal stolen from him in the '88 Olympics due to a horrible skating partner. Looking for redemption and a new skate partner who can keep up with his attitude and drive. Enter the man David had a horrible run-in with at the previous competition ex-Olympic hockey player Joseph Liebgott and David's new skate partner. The duo reluctantly teams up to compete at the 1992 Olympics, and win the gold they were both denied. But can Joe deal with David's attitude? and can David break through Joes' icy exterior, to get the best program out of both of them?

warnings: swearing, lots of swearing, some injury (non-graphic), sad liebgott, implications of sex

-----------

a/n: welcome welcome! This is my first ever character/character fic ever, and I am cross-posting on my ao3 @/danopdf!

This is basically a re-write of the 1992 film 'The Cutting Edge' with some more scenes I'm adding and, mayhaps some smut later on. I hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

--------------

Calgary - 1988

The first sound Joe heard wasn’t his alarm.

It was the sound of the wrinkled hotel sheets shifting as the figure next to him rolled over, a heavy arm swinging over his waist.

The second sound Joe heard was the gravelly voice behind him croaking out, “Good morning.” in the heavy German accent he remembered from last night. Joe ignored the voice and shifted to reach for his watch resting on the nightstand next to him. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he flipped the watch, expecting the time to be just a few minutes before the alarm he set last night.

“It’s 1 o’clock.” His eyes widened, “JESUS CHRIST IT’S 1 O’CLOCK, I’VE GOT A GAME!” Joe lept from the bed throwing the covers off of himself and onto the shaggy-haired blonde next to him. Bending down to grab his pants, and socks scattered around his hotel room, he yelled out, “WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ALARM? I TOLD YOU TO SET THE ALARM, I’M SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE ICE!”. Quickly as he could Joe tossed on his clothes, belt clattering as he grabbed his hockey jersey from the lounge chair, and rushed off to the small bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Nein alarm. You said "Nein alarm!” the figure from beneath the sheets, sat up blankets falling off his chest. Joe stuck his head out of the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging from the side of his mouth.

“Yes, nine alarm!!”

“Is it a mistake?”

“No, no mistake-” he said harshly, running from the bathroom, “badge, hat-” Joe ran around the room grabbing items from his mental list, “no mistake, I’m just about four hours late for the goddamn Olympics here Conrad!”

“Conrad?” Joe quickly finger-combed his hair before tossing on his jersey and backward ‘Team USA’ hat.

“I don’t believe this” Joe shoved his battered sneakers on barely tying them.

“Conrad?!” The young man screeched out from the bed,

“Christoph?” Joe threw out, gathering his pads and skate pants, and tossing them into his hockey bag.

“CHRISTOPH?” an even more appalled yell came from the blonde. Joe grabbed his sticks from next to the door, pausing to hike his bag over his shoulder.

“Christian?” He genuinely wondered.

The man scoffed, folding his arms, “Callan!”

“Callan! Right! Listen,” Joe reached for the door, yanking it open, “I’ll see you later, thanks for the great night!” Shooting the curly blonde a wide smile, he rushed out the door, barely escaping the wrath of the hotel pillow thrown at him.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

David was gliding across the rink. Hearing nothing but the sound of skates against the ice and the duo's song over the loudspeakers flooding the arena.

Feeling the hands of his partner fall around his hips, and move towards his outstretched arm.

Clasping his partner's hands in his own, David let himself be swung back and over his partner's shoulders, suspended above the ice, David locked his arms and splayed his legs out straight to the sides, keeping his eyes locked ahead as his partner began to spin them across the ice.

After the spins, David could feel his partner's arms begin to quiver. He bent his elbows, the queue to slowly lower him into the next set of moves. As he was being lowered David’s partner, Michael fumbled him. His left leg getting caught behind Michael's shoulder, David let out a grunt as he unceremoniously stumbled down onto the ice.

“This is the Olympics David, 30 million people just called their families in from the kitchen to watch the replay!” David’s coach Rick yelled from his place on the sideline. “What do you think this is David? Junior Pairs ‘82?” He slammed his hands on the boards.

“No,” David skated his way closer to Rick leaving Michael stranded in the middle of the rink surrounded by the other pairs getting their final practices in, “as I recall in ‘82 you were still humiliating me in private!”

“Maybe that’s because you were still listening,” Rick growled out.

“Well if I’m going deaf, it’s because I’ve had you SCREAMING in my ear for the last 9 years!” David yelled, anger bubbling up in his stomach, “He’s not giving me anything to work with!” He gestured to Michael standing behind him, his hands on his waist, head pointed up, eyes rolling at David’s theatrics.

“Rick, this is impossible! I can’t work with him!” Michael yelled.

Rick leaned over the side of the half wall separating the ice from the judges' table and press area, “David. I wanna see your ass, in the goddamn air!!” he hollered pointing high towards the rafters, the sounds of the contestants and the scattered observers in the audience gasping filled the silence following his outburst.

David skated right up to Rick's red, angry face.

“Well, until Hercules here learns how to lock. His. Grip. This will have to do.” David smirked, pushing off his right foot he began to skate away, getting a few paces away before flipping up the back edge of his long performance shirt, showing off his ass in his tight leotards. The sounds of the other contestants and audience members now laughing, filled the arena, followed by the dozens of quick clicks and flashes going off from the press cameras that filled one corner of the blocked-off viewing area.

David skated right across the ice, holding the back of his uniform up the whole way, until he stepped off the ice and right onto the rubber walkway towards the changeroom.

“David!”

Oh good. David thought, turning towards the commanding voice of his father.

“This needs to stop. You need to go right back out there and apologize to Rick,” His father got right up close to David, long brown coat and overly expensive scarf swinging with each powerful step towards him, “he has put in too much work. He’s the one that got us here.” His father pointed a finger directly in David's sweaty face.

“Oh yeah, how kind of him to let us tag along.” David sighed sarcastically, bending one leg behind him to put his skate guard on, before doing the same with his other.

“David Kenyon Webster. You will go back out there, and you will apologize and you will get. To. Work.” His father seethed.

David sighed, damp curls falling in front of his eyes, “I wouldn’t bet on it Dad.” wiping his forehead, and beginning to walk off, plastic skate guards clicking against the floor.

“David! Where are you going?”

Without looking over his shoulder David yelled back, “I’ll be in my cell!”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Joe was booking it down the sidewalks of the Olympic Village as fast as he possibly could, rushing right past the crowded entrance to the Olympic arena, towards the underground parking and athlete’s entrance.

Badge jumping off his chest, Joe ran right past the guard booth at the bottom of the parking ramp.

“Hey, son! What’s your name!” The man asked, stepping out of the booth, clipboard in hand.

“Liebgott! USA men's hockey!” He hollered, not stopping his sprint,

“Hell son, they’re just about to start!”

Joe practically ran into the doors with the words ‘ATHLETE’S ENTRANCE. OLYMPIANS AND COACHES ONLY’ plastered on the front. Ripping the door open, and rushing down the twisting hallways towards his team's changeroom.

Bursting through the red arena doors Joe finally entered the hallway lined with banners in the colours of the Olympic rings, the US national anthem sounding over the speakers in the rink loud enough for him to hear over the sound of his rapid heartbeat and his skates clacking together over his shoulder.

Quickly running around a corner, Joe came to a complete halt. Running directly into someone, their skates falling off their shoulder and onto the ground below them. It was a miracle Joe managed to stay standing.

Half walking, half checking over the man he had run into, Joe grabbed the skates off the ground, “Does this hallway go up to the ice?”

Handing the skates over to the shocked man still sitting on the ground, he took note of the Team USA Olympic jacket he had on, as well as the thick pin-decorated sweatband he had pushing the curls up and away from his face.

“Wh- what?” The man stuttered out.

“Does this go up to the ice!” Joe asked again.

“‘Does this go up to the ice?’ Is that all you have to say? Wh-what were you raised in, a barn?” The man on the floor swung his arms out.

Joe looked at him shocked at the utter audacity the young man on the floor had. Did he not hear what the fuck I just asked? What an asshole.

“Yeah, that’s the way to the ice asshole.”

“Yeah, thanks. And listen, Sweetheart,” Joe leaned right down into the fallen man's face, “Where I come from, we stand for the national anthem.” Clapping him harshly on the shoulder Joe gave the man one last glare before running down the hall towards the ice. Leaving David to push himself off the ground with a scoff, walking down the hall Joe had just come from, and pushing his way out the doors into the bright afternoon. Beginning to make his way back to the main hotel, the last bars of the national anthem fading with the loud ‘bang!’ of the doors behind him.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

It’s just him and the puck out on that ice.

Everything else just fades away once his skates are laced and his gloves are on, the sound of the crowd fading into his heartbeat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’re just now joining us from the men's cross-country skiing, you are currently watching the men's hockey teams USA vs Germany, where Germany is currently leading by one point in the final period.”

Skating forwards Joe reached his stick out in front of him, sneaking the puck out from the opposing hockey player's grip. Quickly cradling it in his stick he turned hard on his left foot, before taking off down the ice.

“Folks, are you seeing this? We’re in the final moments of the game here and Team USA all-star Joe Liebgott has stolen the puck from the German powerhouse Gerd Truntschka and has taken off down the ice!”

Left, right. Left, right. Stick movement, don’t forget to keep the puck moving.

There was nobody but the goalie between him and the net. Nobody between him and getting to that next round, between him and getting to that gold medal game. All he has to do is swing back and-

“Ladies and Gentleman he shoots, and he scores! Right at the buzzer and the crowd is going wild!”

Joe let out a cheer, skating around the back of the net, stuck in the air, the sound of the crowd invading his hearing. Joe could see his teammates skating towards him, arms spread wide, waiting to lift him in the-

CRACK

Joe felt himself come to a sudden stop. Not in the same way as earlier when he ran into the cute skater in their dumb sweatband with the skate and shark pin on it.

No, this one was like being checked into the boards by a ton of bricks.

And then another.

And then his helmet came off.

And then another.

And then he hit the ice.

And finally another. This time the sharp blade of the skate cut his cheek, warm blood falling down the side of his face, past the curve of his ringing ear, and onto the ice beneath him.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Well we haven’t face-planted, and we’re keeping time. Great, this is going great.

Were the only thoughts going through David’s head as he was trying to keep pace with the erratic music pumping through the speakers of the arena.

David and Michael were gliding across the ice, perfectly in time with each other, letting the rhythm flow through them and guiding their bodies through the motions they had gone through dozens of times.

“Team USA duo David Webster and Michael Brown have been flying through this competition, and are currently looking to score that gold medal, and seem to be the team to beat at today’s competition.”

They took the final turn before getting to the straightaway where their big finishing move would be coming up.

David looked towards Michael as he slid up behind him,

Don’t you dare fucking drop me. David glared at him, to which Michael rolled his eyes, and shifted their hands to lock together. David let himself be swung back and over his partner's shoulders, suspended above the ice, David locked his arms and flared his legs out straight to the sides, keeping his eyes locked ahead as his partner began to spin them across the ice.

One spin. Two spins. Thre-.

On the third spin down the ice Michael's arms shook and began to give out. David wavered, clasping Michael's hands even tighter in his own, trying to lock his arms and steady them both, they could take a hit on the ‘technical points’ section, but falling is something they couldn’t come back from.

On the final spin is when Michael's arms finally give and David goes tumbling down, legs swinging over Michael's shoulder and leading David ass over tea kettle to fall on the ice.

The first thing that hit the ice was David’s shoulder with a loud smack.

The second thing to hit the ice was David's head, wacking against the cold surface of the area, his vision going black for a quick moment on impact.

David raised his head, seeing Michael skate to a stop a few feet from David, completely unharmed and glaring at him.

David’s vision was swimming with flashes of white, turning his head to the sideline, he brought his hand up to cover his eyes from the flashes of the press section’s cameras. The sound of the shutters overwhelmed his ears.

His head swam as he looked for a hand up, eyes landing on the figure of Rick standing by the judges’ table, arms crossed in front of him, shaking his head at David, the vein in his neck bulging with anger.

Well fuck. There goes that dream.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Beeeep. Beeeeeep. Beee- click.

“Joe? Honey, is that you?” The comforting accent of his mother flooded the payphone receiver.

“Yeah Ma, it’s me.” He sighed, resting his arm across the top of the payphone box, just off the main lobby of the Village hotel.

“Oh thank God you’re alright honey- Everybody it’s Joe! He says he’s alright!” His mother pulled away from the phone, yelling further into the house where, Joe assumed, every person in the neighborhood was crowded around the TV watching the game. A chorus of cheers and yells of his name came dully through the receiver. “Joey, let me tell you, when we saw you score that goal we were all so proud of you, but then those mean players from that other team came and put you right up against those boards and my heart just about dropped out of my toes, and when you were just laying there on the ice,” His mother cut herself off, sniffling Joe could hear her put the phone to her chest and take a breath.

“Ma, I’m alright. I promise I’m okay.” He comforted through the phone, “And hey listen, I was thinking. Um,” he shuffled in place fiddling with the edge of his team jacket, “I was thinking of coming home for a while. Ya know come visit everybody, maybe pick up some extra work at the cab company again.”

There was silence for a moment on the other end of the phone.

“What happened Joseph?” Joseph. God, his mother only called him that when she wanted answers, and he wouldn’t budge.

“Ma I saw the doctor after the game and, and it’s not good.” Joe felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. “He said when I got hit, I um I got my head knocked pretty bad and I- I lost 18 degrees of my referral vision in my right eye.” His mother gasped, as Joe took a heaving breath, turning in on himself even tighter, back facing the crowd going in and out of the hotel, “he- he said I’m not gonna be able to play hockey again. I asked about surgery and he said they can’t do it, my vision is too far gone, Ma I can’t play hockey for a professional team ever again.” Joe began to cry.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. God that’s horrible” His mother cooed, “You know you’re always welcome here but…” she trailed off.

“Jesus Ma. I- I just found out I’m out of a job, can’t see for shit outta one eye and you’re telling me I can’t come home?” Joe yelled out from behind bleary eyes, “Ma I just- I just don’t know what to do.” Joe wiped at his eyes, and swiped at his cheeks, trying to clear the tears streaming down his face.

“Joseph, you know that you are always welcome in this house. It doesn’t matter how old you are. But what I’m saying is, you should take your time, come home for a few days, and be sad but don’t let this take over your whole life. I know that you loved hockey more than anything in the whole world, but maybe this is a sign that you need to take a step back and try something new! Get away from the hustle and bustle of the Olympian life in ‘Frisco, maybe call George and his partner in Philly, they’re always asking you to come visit, and have been offering you that job at the bar for months now! Maybe now is the time to figure out who you are outside of hockey Joey.” His mother finished, taking a deep breath into the phone.

“Yeah.” Joe sighed, “Yeah maybe you’re right Ma. I’ll give George and Toye a call, and see if that job’s still up for grabs.” Joe took a steadying breath, and straightened himself, pinching the phone between his shoulder and cheek, using one hand to pull his hat off and the other to comb his fingers through his hair.

“That’s it, honey. Now go grab your stuff and hop on over to that airport, I’ll be waiting at the gate for ya’.” She smiled warmly through the phone, Joe could hear it in her voice.

“Alright, Ma. I’ll see you soon.” They said their goodbyes and Joe hung up the phone the quarter he pushed in making a clunking noise as it finally fell through, a wave of relief washing over him.

Joe turned and began to stalk back to the elevator, not even sparing a glance at the brunet in the sweatband standing at the front desk, ice pack held to the side of his head, trying to get the attention of the concierge.

------------

please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list! <3

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

For the questions: Dorothea and Mathias

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

II. GENERAL

Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all?

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public?

III. LOVE

What are their favorite things to do together?

What reminds them of each other?

What do they like best about each other?

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

What is the wedding like? Who attends?

How do they celebrate holidays?

Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?

Hello Nonnie! welcome welcome!

AND OMG YOU BROUGHT ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY DARLINGS BEBES. THE TWO THAT ARE 24/7 ON MY MIND. I SO RARELY RECEIVE QUESTIONS ABOUT THEM, SO THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU FOR MAKING ME SO HAPPY 💓😭💓 Lemme answer them all! <3 (and buckle up, it's going to be a long one <3 *happy squee*)

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

5) What would their lives be like if they had never met? I'd say that, had they never met, their lives would have been rather different, and dare I say, rather tragic. Considering how their whole story is based on the fact that Dorothea found herself out of her own time by absolute accident (or was it Fate, mayhaps, bringing her to where she belonged?), had she never met Mathias, she would have followed through with her parents' plan for her. She would have married Mr. Christopher Sterling, an affluent American Templar Master who had taken an interest in her in 1868, bringing forth their children, as was expected of her, and she would have joined the Templars, eventually becoming Grand Master of London and bringing absolute terror to the Assassins until her death by assassination in 1888. Mathias, on the other end, would have continued his life as he had ever since Emmanuelle destroyed his heart: vowing himself completely to the cause of the French Brotherhood, growing more and more disillusioned by everything around him, and eventually finding his demise in 1794 during the Reign of Terror, causing Antoine to go on an absolute rampage and turning even more to the dark side than she was before.

II. GENERAL

13) Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all? Both. Both, for different reasons, believe that they are not good enough for the other. Mathias, due to his disastrous marriage with Emmanuelle, was left with more than just physical scars, and being the introspective man that he was, he didn't want to run the risk of "infecting" Dorothea with the sufference and sadness that he constantly felt; also, his physical disfigurement hindered him from actively pursuing her, terrified as he was that if he were to see the extent of his burn scars on his body, she would be absolutely repulsed and would reject him right away. Dorothea, on her side, thought that she was an absolute inept at romantic matters and not morally good enough for Mathias, especially after spending quite sometimes with him and Antoine and Colette. With them, the flaming passion they had to fight for a better world for everyone, she realized how blind and guillible she had been her whole life, shaped as it was by the Templar's beliefs her father and mother had raised her into. She felt she had been a complete fool that couldn't recognize alone that what her father did was not only wrong but also morally unjust, and that therefore, she as well was absolutely irrecoverable. Once that realization hit her and despite her utmost willingness to critically review her ways, alongside her feelings for Mathias literally roaring within her chest, she reined everyhing in, thinking he would be better off with someone that was never tainted from such ideology. She felt too ashamed to even dare to entertain the idea that he might want her. Thank goodness Colette was there to show them how they were so wrong about it all, and instead how, despite all the tragedies and sadness in their life, they were so similar to one another that they truly were two halves of the same soul, and renouncing this chance at happiness would be their greatest mistake.

11) Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public? DOROTHEA. She was EXTREMELY good at playing coy and being a little tease with her husband, and you can bet that Dorothea was the one that more often than not approached Mathias with the excuse of wanting a hug and a kiss, and ended up whispering all sort of suggestive things to his ears and against his neck, just for the satisfaction of seeing Mathias' face turn all red and rendering him a mumbling mess. However, she knew that, come nighttime, Mathias would be the one to render HER a whole mumbling mess under his most intimate caresses.

III. LOVE

6) What are their favorite things to do together? Playing music together is definitely one of their favourite activities together. Mathias was an excellent pianist and had an incredible voice, warm and soothing, and he adores sitting down and duet with Dorothea in the evening, singing together or playing the piano while Dorothea accompanies him, either with her voice or her violin. Alternatively, since Mathias had good training in dancing when he was a child, under his adoptive mother's tutelage, he would never say no to a round of waltz, knowing how much she adored dancing around with him. Another favourite things they enjoyed together was riding around the countryside. Mathias was a skilled equestrian, always more at ease around horses than humans, and during their courtship, he taught her how to ride, an activity that she enjoyed immensely, given that her parents never allowed her to do so for fear that she might hurt herself in the process. Dorothea was forever grateful to Mathias for teaching her because whenever she rode around with her horse, she felt truly and properly free, one with the wind.

9) What reminds them of each other? Dorothea was reminded of Mathias whenever her fingers flew over the keyboard of a pianoforte, tickling the ivories in the melodies that were him. She was reminded of him in the tranquillity of a bubbling brooke close to the meadow of their house; in the light of the full moon that lit up the dirt road that lead to the their house in the countryside, in the roaring of the voice of the waves that crashed against the white shore of Normandy, that reminded her so much of Dover; she was always reminded of him in the laughter of their children, that resembled him in so many aspects. Mathias was reminded of Dorothea in the soft, pale light of the sky at dawn, when the sun is not far away from the horizon, ready to break the night and bring forth another cheerful day; the stars that dotted the sky in the middle of the night, so similar to the way her freckles kissed her cheeks; He was reminded of her during the soft falling of the snow, and quiet silence that encompassed the land during winter time; Whenever he saw a flowery meadow in spring, he would think of her, and the time they spent together reading to one another among the wild flowers. He saw her resilience and kind determination in all their children, sweet Léonie in particular.

10) What do they like best about each other? Physically speaking, Dorothea *absolutely* adored Mathias' eyes. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen in all her life, not only for the dark colour and upward shape, but also for the way they were able to convey all Mathias' love for her without him uttering a single word. There was a whole world enclosed behind them, a lot that he left unspoken, and at the beginning of their courtship, she would find herself staring at them without even realizing she was doing so, trying as she could to decypher the mystery behind those long dark lashes. Mathias, instead, loved her smile, so genuine and sweet and welcoming, and loved the way Dorothea's face would light up when smiling for him. There was something so incredibly endearing when she smiled, he would oftentimes resort to silly jokes just for the chance to see that smile and hear her laughter. It brought him absolute comfort and delight in being the reason that she smiled and laughed. Now, in regards to their personality, Dorothea adored Mathias' sensitivity and kindess and generosity, the fact that, despite all the pain and misery he had gone through, he never EVER allowed himself to become a callous man, never allowed himself to give in to anger and contempt and selfishness, remaining instead a caring, honourable and gentle human being. He was his best friend Mathias, instead, was absolutely enthralled by Dorothea's kindness and loving heart, her sharp intellect, and her unwillingness to deceive, even when that would cost her greatly. During their courtship, he found these traits of her personality incredibly endearing and the ones that would prompt him to ask her to be his wife.

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

3) What is the wedding like? Who attends?

Their wedding was as simple as it could be, in one of the niches in Notre Dame, attended by a Priest after Dorothea converted to Catholicism. The only people presents during their celebration were Antoine and Claude, Colette and Arno and Mathias' best friend Xavier, who had been the one that actually created the occasion for Mathias to declare himself to Dorothea and ask her to marry him. Dorothea, due to the fact that all her family was technically not born, had no one to invite to celebrate with her, but she knew that, in spirit, Byron was always there to support her and her happiness, so for that reason, she kept the compass he had given her inside one of the pockets of her wedding dress (a simple old robe that had belonged to Mathias' adoptive mother).

Unbeknownst to all of them (with the exception of Xavier), their ceremony was also attended by Rodrigo Reyes Moreno, Mathias and Antoine's uncle from their mother side. Xavier informed him that Mathias was to be wedded soon to his ladylove, and quick as his horse allowed, reached them in France, bringing with him a family heirloom that had belonged to his sister Ximena: a ring that was passed down the women from generation to generation in the Reyes Moreno, that was to be worn once married with the promise of a life rich in love and happiness. He entrusted the gift to Xavier, so that he could deliver him to Mathias, knowing that even if Ximena could not wear it for her own wedding (since there was none), at least her son's wife would.

9) How do they celebrate holidays?

In the peace and quietness of their cozy abode, for sure! 😂You see, with Colette and Antoine always looking after their brother and his wife and loving to spend the holidays all together, sometimes Mathias and Dorothea had an hard time to be completely alone during the holidays, even more so after their children were born. So, before becoming parents, they would sometimes try to run away in the countryside to just enjoy each other's presence, since it was the one they loved the most.

13) Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?

Considering how both of them were two absolute nightowls, sometimes, when the moon was full and the weather serene, Dorothea loved to surprise Mathias with a midnight picnic, just for the two of them. She would spread a blanket in the garden that Mathias had planted for Dorothea, and with lit lanterns around them, they would enjoy some of the dishes that Dorothea had cooked for him (thanks to Colette being the best teacher ever <3). The quiet of the night around them, with only the moon kissing them, the stars twinkling for them, the crickets chirping softly, fireflies flying around them as the wind gently blow and danced through the tree branches....it made them feel secure, protected in the bubble that was their love, as if they were the only two people in the entire world.

Another couple tradition they had was connected to reading. They both were two ENORMOUS bookworms, with an impressive collection of books that they had collected throughout the years. But what's special about those books were the old, worn-out bookmarks that they had glued to various pages. Each bookmark had a memory attached - a quote they loved, a tear-stained page due to one of their fights, a shared laughed caused by a sentence. It was a tradition started by Dorothea: she was so terrified that something might happen and bring her back to the XIX Century that she wanted to have those memories collected by those bookmarks, so that everything she had with Mathias was "set in stone" and nothing could ever erase it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for this ask <3 it took me a little to write it all down, but I had so much fun <3

Truly, it put such a big smile on my face and such happiness to my heart, Nonnie, you have no idea <3

Thank you <3

[chainsawcorazon]

mayhaps redundant, but i also believe that chris kent/lor zod being one character post-rebirth is also a horror comic in the making. oh to remember the ghastly abuse you once suffered at the hands of your birth parents, but those abusers don’t abuse you in this new life and instead have made you their little prince! you are loved! you are coddled! you know nothing of how the universe works because you were born in and raised in a prison as a son of zod! but you remember an old life where you were once loved under one yellow sun, by two ppl you’re being told in this new life to undermine.

being both zod and el and being viciously loved by both. if clark and lois ever get their memories back y’all….. it’s finna go DOWN. house el vs zod 2025 custody battle arc that results in an intergalactic war not even the newly minted united planets can handle, all bc an emo teen’s preboot memories got unlocked. god help them if lor and jon fall in love. christopher lor zod kent, you will always be famous.

[therawrliveson]

Putting my buddie hat on 🤠

I need an angsty fic where post bucktommy breakup Buck is still there a lot for Eddie (roommate era mayhaps 👀 he moves in to help out and keep Eddie sane??) and one thing leads to another and they start slipping into a romantic relationship without realising. Then one day they fall into bed as like a final step towards something. And everything’s going okay, maybe Chris has started to have calls with Eddie and is slowly working towards forgiveness and finally, he turns around and is like “dad I wanna come home”. So Eddie drops everything because of course he does to bring Christopher home.

And all is well!

Except! Eddies so scared of how fragile his relationship is with Christopher that he runs scared from Buck and bucks like… okay. I guess this is it then. But he gave up his lease to his loft so he has nowhere to go so he ends up couch jumping between madney and henrens (and Tommy’s because the potential for jealous Eddie with that one is just too good).

And at work Eddie acts like they’re just friends, like nothing ever happened between them (because him and Chris are finally almost back to where they were and he refuses to break that again). And it’s eating Buck up inside and he’s miserable and trying his best to not let it show but it is so obvious.

Just all the good angst between them. Everyone trying not to pick sides because none of them even know what happened because both men refuse to talk about it. Obviously by the end someone almost dies and they realise they can’t live without each other and Eddie talks to Christopher about it properly and all is well. But the angst potential.

[ere-the-sun-rises]

Okay bestie I've just had the thought of a millennium (literally just saw a hot picture of a middle aged man)

Oscar Isaac as Harvey Dent Mayhaps

I don't even know if you ship Bruharvey and this is really outta nowhere, but you have really good taste (Christopher Reeves changed my whole trajectory holy hell) and I wanted your thoughts on angry manlet Harvey + soft cat but could demolish anybody battinson JSJSJS

My go-to ship for Bruce is with Clark, but BruHarvey is pretty good.

Oscar Isaac is always an immaculate choice, and his Moon Knight performance proves he would be a fantastic Two-Face too. He'd be really good as a rough-and-tumble kind of Harvey, charming but a little gruff too.

If you're looking for a more suave, roguish Harvey, the kind who twists the rules so justice can prevail but has a devious side too, might I suggest Mads Mikkelsen? He even comes with a cat!

I will also suggest Robert Redford, who's just a joy to look at (and he's been around a while, so there's pics from his twenties into his present-day eighties for your preferred level of grey hair). He's the type to make dry, sarcastic comments that make Alfred laugh.

(P.S. I don't know if you're into E-rated fanfics, but remember how I told you I was gonna write one for Reeve!Clark and Battinson? Here it is. Your posts were the entire inspiration for it.)

[talkbackyak]

Nine people you would like to get to know better

Three ships:

From Aggretsuko???

Tadano & Retsuko: The champion OTP, really sad that they couldn't make it work...

Retsuko & Manaka: I know they're besties, but that would have been unexpected and cute?

Haida & Himuro: JUST KIDDING, that would actually be horrible since Himuro doesn't consider Haida as an equal and he's a massive tool. Washimi & Gori: As far as I'm concerned, they are already married. Spiritually.

First ship ever: Ever? I can't even remember that far back.

Last song: Sunflower by Isabella Lovestory (I haven't even seen the movie yet, orz)

Last movie: At theaters, Barbarian. On streaming, Belle (like my 80 millionth rewatch).

Currently reading: The Blacktongue Thief by Christopher Buehlman

Currently watching: Season 5 of Aggrestuko (re-watch), catching up on Hell's Paradise and Demon Slayer: KnY. Also just finished Celebrity on Netflix! Aaand I need to stream JJK S2 with my friend Tricky sometime when I recover from the SatoSugu Divorce Arc.

Currently consuming: I just had carne asada breakfast tacos.

Currently craving: A nap, but I have a dentist appointment in like 1 hour... Afterwards, mayhaps.

Tagging: ALL MY MUTUALS.

[loopy777]

In the fall of gondolin, the last Canon Tolkien work released before christopher died, it was canonized that Melkor/Mogroth did indeed invent and use primitive tanks and war carriers for his assault upon Gondolin(something Tolkien went back and forth on while he lived). While this does make the first age much more unique, it does raise the question of why Sauron never managed to replicate this tech level(with real plate armor not even being a thing when he fell). Do you think Morgoth refused to share the secret of these machines with Sauron(mayhaps fearing him turning on him), were they reliant on morgoths magic for their construction/upkeep, or something else?

Well, I'd hesitate to say it was 'canonized,' though, since Christopher Tolkien was always explicitly presenting/refining his dad's unfinished or early works, and as you note, J.R.R. went back and forth on a lot of things and the only 'settled' stuff is what was published in LotR. But it's pretty cool that he was considering such a thing enough to put it in some of his writing.

It just so happens that I was reading recently about World War 1, especially the use of tanks and planes. For those not up on their Tolkien history, J.R.R. fought in WW1, and those experiences fueled a lot of his writing for LotR. However, I learned that tanks barely achieved viability by the end of WW1, being too new, and didn't see extensive use. So I doubt Tolkien had any direct contact with them.

More likely, it was the overall mechanization of the world that was his primary inspiration for writing of orcs in The Hobbit that, "It is not unlikely that they invented some of the machines that have since troubled the world, especially the ingenious devices for killing large numbers of people at once, for wheels and engines and explosions always delighted them." Perhaps he was also thinking of the artillery that saw use in WW1 which was essentially responsible for the No Man's Land stalemate that mostly characterizes the war in popular conscious.

But, on the other hand, The Hobbit was published in 1937, when tanks started getting lots of investment and development. So perhaps Tolkien was making commentary on the direction of war technology.

It's harder to pinpoint when his elvish histories were written and revised. I have not read The Fall of Gondolin, so I don't know if there are any notes there that show if it fully predates LotR or if the parts with tanks were written during or after. That would answer things from an out-of-universe perspective, but if we want to take FoG as the canon history, we are left with the question of where the tanks went from an in-universe perspective.

Based on the line in The Hobbit, I'm inclined not to say that Morgoth's tanks required any special type of magic. One of the major themes of Tolkien's works is the evils of industrialization and mechanization, down to criticizing flour mills that belched smoke and didn't grind any more flour than the older, more naturally-powered mills. So if Morgoth has tanks, I think they're supposed to run on gasoline and be loud and smelly, just like Tolkien hated, not 'clean' energy like magic. So why wasn't Sauron able to do the same thing?

I wonder if Sauron didn't much like tanks, either. Perhaps they were the old WW1 style that had trouble with tricky terrain and broke down when you looked at them funny. Maybe Morgoth got one good use out of them but otherwise struggled to find their niche? It's possible that they didn't end up providing much of an advantage, especially against elvish magics and what the wizards of the time were doing. They certainly wouldn't have done much against Numenor, it being an island.

And from the various accounts we got in LotR, Sauron was already well on his way to conquering the world. Tanks are good for keeping the soldiers within alive and blowing things up really good, but Sauron seemed to have mastered the art of breeding so many soldiers that losses didn't matter and dominating them so that only the most extraordinary losses would get them to break ranks and flee. Perhaps Morgoth was more of a futurist than Sauron, who saw tanks and more sophisticated armor as unnecessary compared to the elegance of just throwing goblins at a problem until it went away. Certainly, Minas Tirith nearly fell without mechanized warfare, and that is supposed to be the toughest nut to crack among Sauron's enemies.

Even the Ringwraiths were rarely used as actual combatants. They were mainly about inflicting fear and bad states of mind on their enemies. Perhaps Sauron saw the actual combat of war as something beneath him, being more concerned about the political and social aspect of winning. In which case, he might have seen tanks as a poor investment.

Plus, if there's anything we know from scifi and fantasy, it's that when you show humans a new gimmick, it's only a matter of time until they steal the technology and field their own version. Sauron didn't have a problem that tanks were needed to solve, so why escalate the art of war with them and give Gondor the idea of white tanks painted with the sigil of the tree?

[stormyoceansmain]

THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS TO UNPACK IN THIS SCENE I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN ALL I KNOW IS THAT IT'S HEARTBREAKING

[littlespoonevan]

@evanbucxley replied to your post “”:

always here to answer any telepathic call you may have ❤️❤️❤️ ALSO. oh my god if u find one of the manifestations we got right you have to lmk

​i just checked and we actually did get some right??? aksjdh this is the list from the last ask before s5 aired:

somebody - literally anybody - to find out about eddie’s will and extensive focus on their reaction™ - not yet but babe we can dream

buck helping eddie through a panic attack in 5x01 ✅ (5x13 counts)

buck and eddie reading each other’s minds on a call and showing in sync they are and what a great team they make ✅ (5x16 my beloved)

a buddie scene 19 minutes into episode 1 (as requested when 911 was 19 days away) - okay this didn’t happen but at 18 minutes we got “That could be called repression” and that’s almost just as good askjdhf

good old fashioned buckley-diaz game/movie night - 5x18 manifestation circle 🙏

our christmas miracle (u know the one, tim) - no dice unfortunately

a scene that rivals the 3x09 kitchen scene - ✅ i mean 5x13 and 5x14 surely do, right?????

christopher’s eleventh birthday party including buck staying behind afterwards to help clean up bc it’s eddie’s house and he’s not really a guest ❌ (he’s definitely not a guest tho)

longing looks ✅✅

buck and eddie’s knees touching again when they sit next to each other - not knees but shOULDERS which is even better tbh

eddie and buck dealing with the fallout of everything in 4x14 - kind of??

A HUG (but make it linger) - soon for the love of god please

pining jealous eddie with some longing looks thrown in for good measure - ✅ 5x11 bar scene god bless

a tiny Hint that buck stayed with eddie during the physical part of his recovery - ✅ switching this to emotional recover bc 5x13 and 5x14 exist 

chris watching buck and eddie with a fond smile - at the vow renewal mayhaps??

the best friends episode!!! - not yet 😔

isabel or pepa interacting with buck again - unfortunately not 😔

more pining eddie and face journeys ✅

some nice cathartic emotional healing for eddie ✅✅✅✅✅

and finally bc why the fuck not: buck clutching eddie’s face between his hands when he’s pulled to safety from the helicopter to make sure he’s okay complete with a forehead touch - okay well this didn’t happen but i still want a forehead touch lol

[gaybuckley]

5x04 is entitled ‘home and away.’ what if it’s about the ways in which we find homes (eddie and buck in the aftermath of ana, the grants helping harry after his abduction, the 118 in the wake of the blackout, maybe something with karen and hen and their fostering?) and the ways in which we leave them (maddie taking time away for her mental health, ana and eddie breakup and maybe some christopher angst about this, mayhaps buck and taylor drifting apart, even the struggles of recovery from traumatic events and how much easier it is to turn away from the pain)

[blakegallo]

i told myself that i wasn't going to speculate about 5b until we got a promo... but i suppose mayhaps i will take out the clown paint for at least one text post bc why not.

there are two things i really want to talk about. the first being

i. eddie diaz "leaving" the 118

i actually don't think this is bad writing...

do i think that eddie is conflating chris's worries with this decision, maybe. partially. i do think that there is some weight to the discussions i've seen about how chris lost his mom when she was crossing the street + he was in the tsunami + all the near death experiences his dad has had [ though maybe he only knows about the sniper ] and so his young life has been riddled with trauma that like his father's has remained unpacked. [ altho at least the tsunami arc did see him going to a therapist for at least one episode... so chris has that going for him ]

but i think the show was also showing us that it wasn't just ana that was causing eddie to have panic attacks [ which, i'm still not over how that all went down ] but how trying to move on and keep working was not good for him either. his job was actively causing eddie harm and taking a step back from that is good for him. particularly assuming he is also going to get the therapy needed for him to return to work in a way that is good for him and christopher.

also eddie has not lost the support network at the 118. [ as noted by wrapped in red. ]

i know all season people have wanted a buck/eddie heart to heart about the snipper and tbh i still think that scene is the will scene from 414... but that's a different text post conversation. what we were really robbed of is a proper eddie/bobby scene. all of the stuff we did get to see about eddie moving on from shannon was with bobby + from wrapped in red it was clear that eddie told bobby about his decision first, it's what prompted buck + hen to think something was up in the first place. if they weren't using eddie leaving as the cliffhanger i'm certain we would have gotten b

while i think 511 is going to have madney/eddie echoing one another, there is no reason to believe that eddie is somehow without a support network the way that maddie's ppd had her thinking she was...

ii. oliver saying ~"more fun buck" + "wrench in bucktaylor's plan for happiness"

i already talked about how i think the taylor promotion theories are mess that people pulled out of their ass and continue to kick around in a different text post. so i'm not gonna go into that...

but post breakup buck is nowhere near fun buck hours... post breakup buck is canonically all in his feels... certified sad boy hours for months on end...

i get that people don't ship bucktaylor and they want a breakup to happen... but if that were to happen in 511 after 509 showing us them overcoming an obstacle and 510 both of them with typical first christmas together worries and very much happy to be together... like... what?

it's also giving talking out of both sides of they ass. bc somehow one episode is going to show us eddie with no support network but also give you a bucktaylor breakup + buck getting with someone who is gonna love him the right way like this is an xtina album when eddie can't even handle his own life atm but is gonna be the worlds best boyfriend magically when we have never seen him demonstrate any of that?

i'm not sure if anything actually makes sense. i just think that it's only been three days and i can already tell the next couple of months are gonna be rough

[defstolemyheart]

even then - bang chan

tags and warnings: angst, royal! au, depictions and allusion of suicide, blood

note: cross-posted from my instagram page, I guess this is my first tumblr post now ehehe. I recommend listening to Rosyln by Bon Iver and St. Vincent while reading because I was inspired by the song.

word count: 2k

-

“Stop it!”

His voice was carried by the wind, he was sure of it, but it didn’t reach her.

“Your highness, please! Stop!” Christopher yelled with all of his chest, knuckles turning white as he grabbed onto the window sill for balance with all his might. 

Just a few steps ahead of him, she stood, seemingly unfazed by the sloping of the turret, unbothered by the moss-slippery roof tiles, thoroughly uncaring of the fall that awaited her if she slipped even just a step. Even as the violent breeze collided with her body, she kept going, closer and closer to the edge. 

Christopher braved himself, fear of her falling propelling him forward, though he tried his best to guess which tiles would be less likely to cause his own accident.

“Your highness!” His throat felt raw, his chest burning for air. Yet the pain he felt right now, he knew it was not from him voicing out his concerns. It was from the sight of her- her sleep robe flying about from the wind, she looked like she was swaying.

His eyes scanned the horizon. The sky loomed over the two of them, its darkening clouds shifting about, casting shattered shadows and highlights that further added to the ache in Christopher’s chest. As if the world was reflecting what was in her heart.

The smell of salt and iron was sickeningly thick in the air. The easternmost tower of the castle faced the sea. While it was pleasant to be here during the summertime, where the tide looked soft and kind, now in the winter, the waters were murky and dark, and violent.

Echoes of the crashing waves against the shale and corals hundreds of feet below them were warning signs that they shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be standing near the edge of the turret, in nothing but their thin sleepwear.

Christopher took a few more careful steps closer to her, who was standing still despite the shaking wind.

“You know, Christopher…” her words barely audible, but he caught them. “I never wanted any of this…”

Christopher caught her pain too, and the broken sobs spilling from her lips. She swayed, her back hunching as more of her cries escaped her.

“I-I just wanted to live- with y-you.” she choked, figure shaken.

“Please, your highness… come with me now…” he pleaded and she turned half-way to face him. Her expression stricken, and she rolled her lips, as if she was holding back a word.

He reached out his hand, wishing silently that she would take it.

He could see it, the emotions swimming and swirling in her glassy orbs. Her cheeks trembled as more tears streamed down from the edge of her lashes.

“Your highness, I promise we’ll be together, always, okay?” Christopher muttered, feeling his eyes burning.

“LIES!” her voice broke, startling the young man. “Nothing but empty words! Stop lying to me! I told you to stop lying to me!”

“I am not lying- please, your highness, I’ll always be there for you…”

“No, it’s not the same… It’s not! The! Same!” her hands crumpled her hair in frustration. “You will always be there on the sideline, while my father whores me to a self-entitled royalty. That’s not- I don’t want that Christopher…”

She looked up, despair painting her face and Christopher was sure he had the same color on him. 

He knew it was not the same, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

He was a mere knight of a lesser standing noble family, assigned to the princess’s aide. He knew their worlds would never collide, no matter how close he stood by her side. Though he would rather take the chance of staying by her side and let his love stay unreciprocated than losing her. Anything would be better than losing her.

And he feared that he was about to lose her now.

He sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to settle the fear that was rattling his chest.

“I know it’s not the same… but please, please, your highness let’s return to your chamber. Let’s talk there, okay? We will discuss what we could do after we get to your chamber, okay?”

Lies. Lies. Lies. 

Christopher lied. 

There was nothing to discuss, but he needed to keep her alive. Not for the crown prince of the far off kingdom she was promised to. Not for her parents. It was for himself, for his own selfish reason as he could not fathom living without her.

“I never wanted to be born into this world....” she looked straight at him, eyes tinged with something he couldn’t quite place and Christopher felt fear dancing quicker in his heart. “I never asked to be born royalty. I never asked for any of this, and it’s my right to end it.”

Christopher took another step, his right hand still reaching out to her, but she took a step back. 

His chest heaved with horror. Two more steps, and she would fall, crashing onto the rock below. Two more steps-

“Please!” he begged. “Please, princess, please! Take my hand!”

The knight’s stomach flipped in nerves with every passing second the princess took to respond, her lips quivering with words she could not seem to mutter.

Then he could hear it, the commotion coming from the small window that was the only access to the turret.

“Your highness!” Christopher recognized the voice to be Lia, the lady-in-waiting for the princess. 

The princess looked past Christopher’s shoulder, and made him turn his head as well. Tears smudged Lia’s pretty face, fear glazing her eyes. The same expression was worn by two other young ladies-in-waiting, who were all calling for the princess to come back.

Then came a figure they all knew quite well, despite the lack of his crown or his gilded robes, Christopher could recognize him anywhere. The King stood behind the window frame, proud and angry.

“Princess!” his voice boomed, though Christopher couldn’t miss the crack of it. Fear seemed to have poisoned the monarch as well. “Get back here!”

Cacophonous laughter filled the air and Christopher’s heart broke as he saw the princess, holding her stomach and laughing as if she just saw the most entertaining play, yet tears kept racing down her pallid cheeks, staining her skin and sleeping gown.

Christopher’s eyes would not stop burning and his breath hitched as she took another step back.

One more-

“I will not bend to your will, father! I will never bend to your will!” fire filled her eyes as her screams stunned everyone, including the King. 

She turned to her knight, whose face was twisted with pain and fear, whose trembling hand was still open to take hers, if only she would reach out.

“Chris,” her voice hoarse, yet fragile. Like she would break any moment. “Do you love me?”

He didn’t need to second guess himself. He knew very well the answer to that question. His heart knew.

So Christopher nodded, “Yes, your highness, I love you. I love you, so much. So please, please come back. Please, my love, I beg you-”

“That’s all I need.” she smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I love you too.”

Christopher screamed as the princess let herself fall backward to the grey horizon. He scrambled forward, his fingers brushing with hers, but not quite.

Shrieks and shouts of horror filled the air around them, but they fell deaf to Christopher’s ears as he could not hear anything else but the rustling of her silken gown and her solemn cry.

He caught the fear flashing in her eyes, and the regret on her face. Her arms flapped midair, the ivory silk she adorned painting the illusion of wings as it bloomed from the frigid winter wind. 

He wished for those wings to carry her against the wind, against Gravity.

However, Gravity loved her more than she did her knight, and more than the knight did his princess.

Gravity smiled at her, despite her late regrets and vain attempts to fly back to her knight’s embrace. It pulled her closer, letting her in Its embrace instead. She cracked against the rocks and the tendrils of the sea.

His throat burnt from his wailings, voice scratchy as he blared her name repeatedly. The fingers of his right hand were desperately seeking hers, which now laid limp by her side, while his vice grip on the turret’s edge turned his other hand pallid. He kneeled, vision blurry from tears, but he could still make out as the ashen rocks below began to take on a darker shade, only to be washed away by the crashing waters, carrying red over white and grey. 

He sat still on the tiles. Heart shattered, mind broken. Crimson seeping in his chest.

She laid still on the shales. Bones shattered, skin broken. Crimson seeping from her pores.

Christopher wondered, as he looked between his shaking fingertips and the broken remains of the love of his life... Mayhaps… Had he properly confessed the ever growing fondness for the princess, rooted so deeply in his heart it became the sustenance to his will to live, would she have not even walked the steep stone staircases of this cursed tower?

Had he promised to take her away from this wretched land, to convince her earlier that he would do anything to get her away, to run and live the life they want together outside the roles that the wicked world had fated them to grow into, would she have taken his hand?

His eyes stung from the tears that were falling to the damp, bloodied ground where his love now rested on. 

His words never reached her heart.

They never did, probably from the very start.

He gazed upon his own hand, where the ghost of her touch tingled his freezing skin.

Christopher yearned nothing more than to feel her soft hands in his again.

And suddenly the hundreds of feet that separated him and her didn’t seem to be that far-

--

“What would you do if I died, Chris?” she asked one night. Her soft features were basking under the gentle moonlight as she leaned an arm against her stone balcony, her cheek resting on her folded arm. Her glassy eyes were intent on the knight who stood quietly two feet away from the insomniac princess. 

Christopher was not supposed to be in her chamber, but only in the dead of night when they both could not rest would the two forlorn people be able to converse without the barrier of their status between them.

His eyes widened, grip on the sword on his waist tightening as he was taken aback by her questioning. Retaliation was on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back and let his thoughts simmer.

He ran his gaze across her figure. From her soft, tousled tresses, to her chilled cheeks, down to her plump, unchapped lips and further to her fingers, hidden by the sleeves of her thick woolen robes. She shifted her stance, looking straight into his eyes. The mere sight of her in her most vulnerable moment made his heart swell with warmth, but remembering her question sent chills running down his spine.

If she dies… Christopher felt his chest tightening at the thought of losing her.

He met her gaze gently, “I would rather not think of that possibility, your highness, surely not any time soon, but… ” he smiled, warm, loving, “I would follow you wherever.”

She perked up, amused. “Even in death?” 

He stepped closer, suddenly washed by the yearning to hold her. “Even then, yes.”

[shadowhuntertrash]

For the ask game could I get thomastair? Mayhaps? Totally cool if not jaja

Yessss (I got a few Thomastair asks so here you go)

Thomas 100% put the peeps in the microwave. He may seem mature and responsible but he is crap at cooking. 'I dont understand what I did wrong Alastair!' 'WHY WOULD YOU EVEN NEED YOUR PEEPS WARMED UP?!'

Thomas is the one who constantly takes and posts embarrassing videos of his friends. He has a ton of Alastair dancing, struggling to reach the top shelf, and falling but he evens it out with a bunch of cute ones like him calling Thomas his solace sappy stuff like that (but if you ask Alastair he says thats just as embarrassing.)

Alastair breaks his phone ALL THE TIME. Whether it be fighting or just forgetting about it or dropping it on accident. Thomas is just disappointed but in no way surprised at this point.

Alastair does this thing that he thinks makes him look cool and mysterious and Thomas thinks its ridiculous. He just scowled and looks mad but he thinks it makes him look cool and Thomas is just like no stop it your scaring the kids.

I think Thomas would die first. Idm why really I just feel like Alastair wouldn't be the one to die maybe its because Thomas already lost his sister but yeah I think Thomas would die first and Alastair would die soon after (either of old age or because he became careless because what else did he have to live for)

I think they get into petty fights or like Alastair will tickle Thomas too much or something and Alastair will end up on the couch. When they get in fights its Alastair because even though they're mad Alastair still thinks about the fact that Thomas is a giant and would be terribly uncomfortable on the couch.

I feel like they are both cuddly because Alastair is touch starved and I feel like while Thomas has good parents and everything he is the only boy and it doesn't really fit to get hugs and stuff so they both crave it. I think Alastair is more of a bad day hugger and Thomas is a more spontaneous hugger.

Thomas said I love you first. It was actually on accident during one of their petty fights and Alastair just went silent because no one ever said they Charles always made it clear that love wasn't on the table. And Thomas freaks out cause its been five minutes and Alastair hasn't said anything so he leaves and Alastair cant find him so later that night when Thomas comes home to apologize Alastair meets him at the door- 'WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN YOU IDIOT I WAS LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU YOU SCARED ME BLOODY GIT I LOVE YOU TOO DONT DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!'

Thomas fusses over Alastair more because he is a mother hen and always looks after the people he cares about. If Alastair is late by anything more than 10 minutes Thomas starts freaking out because what if he's hurt? What if he left? What is he's dying in the street?

Though Thomas fusses more Alastair is more protective. If he hears even a single word against Thomas he looses his shit. 'I'm sorry did you just say hE IS FREAKISHLY TALL YOU FREAK SHUT TF UP' and he's also overprotective of him as a boyfriend too and is easily jealous because Charles always had wondering eyes and hes so scared he'll loose Thomas but Thomas is just like dont you know you're the only one I want?

Thomas is a gentle giant but it is actually Alastair that goes cries over books and movies. 'I GET IT BUT WHY DID THEY BOTH HAVE TO DIE MAKE IT STOP FIX IT THEY DIDNT DESERVE THAT HAZEL DESERVED EVERYTHING AND SO DID GUS!' 'Okay.' *Ugly crying* 'THOMAS LIGHTWOOD STOP IT'

I feel like Thomas is the night owl because he is used to staying up with Matthew talking about boys, or James reading, or Christopher doing experiments, or Lucie writing. I feel like Alastair is the early riser because he is used to getting up early so he can leave the house before his dad wakes up.

[mercysought]

@cllgood​ . ❝ Fuck those men. Fuck them for their shortsightedness. Fuck them for their ingratitude. ❞ / for the priestess . black sails s02 . not accepting

The boy is far too emotional. 

Perhaps emotional was the wrong term, the priestess thought as tired dark eyes followed the deep sinking lines of his anger on his young face. No, not emotioanl, too prone to outburst perhaps fit the bill better. 

But mayhap that is simply part of his blood, and with that the priestess silences those thoughts. She sighs heavily through her nostrils, leaning forward and the tip of scarred fingers brushing the edge of her wide brim black hat. There was no sun within that small dingy room, no warmth or light that she truly needed to shield her eyes from, but the hat remained over the shaved head of the woman.

These feels were running rampant these days. A trickle turned current in the youngest of them, one that had managed to, impossibly (she had first thought, but the more she thought the more she felt it natural) drip down to the base and pillars of society. Christopher Johns had always been a fool and Allgood’s blood ran brightly in this one too, but she saw it as clear as day even if such a fact remained hidden to the children (men now, but children still in her eyes). 

There were cracks that would cost hell to patch up. Cracks and holes made out in the shape of one Gabrielle Deschain. 

The nameless woman continued to sharpen her knife. Her irons, one resting at her holster and the other on the table to her right, are covered by the large shadow that her hat casts. The gunslinger’s feet feel heavy, so heavy that they could shake the ground around them, shake the earth itself. But it is only dust that lifts atop dark leather boots, and it is only Cuthbert Allgood that is disturbed by the movement.

   “It’d do you some good to remember your lessons, boy.” she speaks plainly, flatly, putting the knife back into her boot “Sooner rather than later.“ 

What did it matter? What would this anger, this agitation do good outside of battle beyond boiling one’s blood and energy? The fact that they could not see that they were the ones that held the world together, that kept it safe from the insanity that clawed its wild teeth against the bars that kept them all asleep. Yes, asleep through the night like babes. That they were blind was nothing knew, that they were dull was a fact that they had known. That was the reason why they carried the irons, the reason why they protected. 

The reason why they were there now, waiting.

The priestess looks to the son of Robert Allgood but it is his mother’s that stare back at her. Good. It only made sense that they would. She whose irons she received from her mother and the mother before her. Whose irons she would give to her own daughter when the time came.

It might be through the memory of their father’s faces with which they killed, but it was through their mother’s eyes they witnessed the world.

The silence drags on and the priestess shifts her weight on the chair, pulling her gun to its holster and getting up. Her bones crack. The noise dissipates with the weight of her body over worn and old wooden planks “What’s on your mind, truly?”