things you should definitely 100% not think about when you think about philip shea (except do because philip shea is perfect and you should always think about him)
first of all, don’t think about how Philip was literally almost shot and actually did literally beg for his life for a moment and allowed himself to be
scared about that for approximately .5 seconds before sucking it up and
remaining seemingly calm for pretty much the rest of the show (except for when he realized tommy and tracey were in danger. because philip shea cares about other people. but once they are gone, he accepts it quickly and moves on. that is philips’ like number one skill. accept and move on. don’t think about why that is).
think about how he somehow got to the city in the middle of the night and then
didn’t even risk going inside. Don’t think about how he just curled up on the
couch outdoors as if this was a common, acceptable place for him to sleep and
passed out, alone, after almost being killed.
- Don’t think about how he goes from saying “I’m done. can’t go back, can’t go back there” to accepting he can’t live with him mom again in approximately ten seconds. He doesn’t argue too much about it. Doesn’t beg or plead or threaten to run away. Just says “I know” and gives his mom cigarettes and then sits and comes out to her because she wants to hear nice things about him and to him, lukas liking him back enough to kiss him is a nice thing.
think about how when given the opportunity, Philip will sit next to a man who
has almost definitely abused him and just do nothing but pretend the guy likes
think about his honest confusion when he asks “Why not” after Lukas says he
didn’t have sex with Rose.
think about how Philip is so calm and willing to do or be whatever the person
he loves (read: his mom and Lukas) needs him to be. I mean, yes, he tells Lukas
no that one time and calls him on his shit other times, but really, overall,
the kid is willing to put himself on the line for those he cares about: “Had to
be cool for my mom—I can be cool for you to.” “What do you want me to say? I’ll
say whatever you want.” Ugh, he just—he tells Lukas not to drink the hand
sanitizer but then three seconds later he does the same thing, no questions
asked, because Lukas tells him to. Don’t even get me started on the whole Rose debacle.
- Lukas freaks out when Philip hands him a condom, Philip minimizes it and says “It’s okay. it’s okay, it’s fine” coaxes him back down and no more pressure to do anything. Philip
tells Lukas he told his mom about them, Lukas says “There’s nothing to say” and
Philip just nods quickly, “Okay.” Doesn’t argue. Doesn’t call Lukas on
anything. Just says okay and then offers to take Lukas into the city cause he
thinks that will help him.
won’t get Lukas drugs, but he will help Lukas look for things to sell when he
asks and go with him to the pawn shop and wait outside while he does it.
like, I’m not saying this to say Philip is a pushover or weak, he’s not- he’s
just contained. All the time. He is
the stable one. The calm one. He is careful not to push too much. He thinks of
solutions and waits to see if they will actually be listened to but is very, very cautious with actually being assertive with his ideas/wants/needs. He is just so much more attuned to everyone else.
- Oh, ALSO,
don’t think too much about how Philip overheard Gabe and Helen arguing about
him and chose to step out and put himself in that line of fire anyway. He could
have just hung back and waited a little. Or, fuck, run off until things cooled down. But Gabe was being yelled at and they
were arguing and so he decided to step in. Cause Philip wants to keep everyone
At this point I’m thinking the only people who actively hate him (not just dislike his videos, but the man himself) have either not been watching him closely or are just jealous and jumped on the bandwagon of hating a very generous man (millions of $$ to charities you guys) because it’s popular or edgy.
I understand not liking let’s plays, but ffs, when you attack someone and celebrate their downfall just because OTHER PEOPLE like them, you have gone too far.
I like Pewdiepie. He isn’t an Anti-semite. Anyone who would believe he is clearly has not watched his most recent videos, and you don’t have to stop watching Mark or Jack because they support their IRL friend. They are literally friends in real life. How many of you know how it feels to be abandoned? How many of you would wish that feeling of abandonment on someone else?
Lastly, I hate slander because honesty is one of my core virtures. How many of you got in trouble when you were a child because someone lied about you to an adult (parents, teachers)? Slander is the same thing, but on a wider scale. How many of you would wish that on someone else?
We need to stop buying into the hype and stop clicking on these shocking, clickbait headlines. All it does is show them slander pays off, even if you click on the link to correct them. All it shows them are clicks, not wheather they’re right or wrong or if people like it or not.
Try to fight me on this. I have piles of evidence to back me up.
Her brow rose. “Excuse me?” She clearly misheard him and his idea for a fun night out.
“Laser tag.” He repeated again, this time with a growing smile on his face. “You know, fake guns, lasers, a dark room with a million corners, cheesy fog effects.” The blonde lifted his hand up while shaping it like a gun. “Pew, pew, faashoooo!” Playfully, he shot at her. “Laser tag!”
His girlfriend of no more than three months gave him a deadpan look. “That doesn’t sound fun.” Gaze cast aside, Angela slipped her hands over her chest to give Jack one of her ‘you’re going to be the death of me’ looks.
Yes, she was an Overwatch agent. Yes, she knew how to handle a gun (it was required for all Overwatch agents to have gun training-both pulling the trigger as well as safety protocol). But no, she had absolutely no aim.
Up until now, she saw no reason to go target shooting. To up her aim and accuracy, why would she want to do that? She was a medic, a doctor after all! Her focus was on life-saving procedures, not killing. Last she checked, a gun couldn’t heal wounds (heh, if only she knew what Ana was working on!).
“Think of this like target practice,” Jack egged on. “It’ll be easier than using a real gun.” His elbow collided lightly against her side. “Eh, eh?”
“Is it not a child’s game?”
Her words were met with stark silence. She opened her month to rescind her comment and rectify the situation but she could see the damage was already done. The look in his eyes said it all. He was hurt. If she could shrink down into a worm, she would have. She would have crawled right away and vanished forever. But that wasn’t possible, so instead she nervously fidgeted with her golden fringe.
Jack opened his mouth only to pause. She could see his mind working within his transparent eyes. They’d had this talk about, about ages and that so-called judge-worthy difference between them. Every time they spoke of it, he got this way. Silent and sad.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Miss Ziegler, are you saying I’m old…”
Angela chewed her lip. She pulled her eyes off him for just a moment. When they returned, she noticed his sly sideways grin. He was mocking her, which didn’t help the situation whatsoever.
“No,” she she huffed. She would definitely pay for this later. Still, she couldn’t believe herself. Did she really just do that? Did she really just accidentally (might I add innocently) call her boyfriend old?
Technically speaking, he was old. Older. Older than her by quite a few years. All of their good friends ignored the age gap difference. Hell, none of them cared. They were just happy that the two were finally a couple instead of giving each other “I want to fucking pound you into the ground and make sweet love to you” looks. Ah yes, the good old days of pent up sexual lust and adolescent hormones.
Granted, there were always those that were against it.
Gabriel Reyes was one of them. His reasoning was two part. One, he liked Angela and wanted the hot, young, blonde doctor to himself. He wasn’t overly fond of the fact that Jack ended up getting the girl, especially knowing that Jack was married to his work. How could he balance the two? And this lead to his second gripe: he thought that a girlfriend, at least for Jack, would be way too distracting. Reyes had big plans for the soldier and didn’t want love to interfere. Not to mention the fact that top brass had their eyes set on the strapping blonde. If Jack continued down the path he was currently on, the board would ultimately promote Jack to Strike-Commander, the public face of Overwatch (a title that would later cause Reyes much angst and frustration).
“You’re doing that thing again,” his voice broke her from her train of thought.
“Wh-what thing?” She tried to play off the wave of guilt and memories as if it were nothing.
“That thing where you lose yourself thought.” Jack was seated at this point and plopped his chin into his palms. “It’s cute,” he cooed lightly.
Her blush spread across her face, adding to her overall cuteness. Twisting her head to the side, she bashfully averted her gaze. This side of him, the side the world never saw, the sweet side that graced her with compliments, this was the side of Jack she loved most. He was a soldier with a soft side. Deep down, beneath the bullets, carnage of war, the ceaseless scars, and blood of the deceased, he was a sweetheart. Her sweetheart.
“Fine,” she caved. Her shoulders rolled forward as her eyes sought out his. “I’ll do it.”
He went for the edges of his shirt and hiked them up. By the time he had lifted his shirt up to his chest, Angela caught wind of what he was doing.
“Not sex,” she chided. “I meant laser tag.”
“Why not both?” His coy grin in tow. “Sex now. Laser tag tonight.”
She smirked. How could she say no? He was hot as hell and, well, they were still in the honeymoon phase of their juvenile relationship. The part where it was all about pure bliss, sweet kisses, and mad, steamy sex.
When evening came, Angela poured herself a cup of coffee. Breathing in its sweet yet bitter taste, she sent her playful azure gaze over to Jack. Hiding behind the cup, she blushed while a wicked grin crawled onto her face.
“So that was fun,” she stated plainly while putting her cup down. “Don’t suppose you want to skip the lasers and go str-”
“WHOA!” Jack’s fist pounded on the table; the echo caused by the gesture vibrated across the metal surface and straight into her hand. The shock it caused Angela to flinch.
“Are you bailing on date night?” His judgmental sapphire stare bore into her. “Are you standing me up…” Cute little wrinkles formed beneath his lids and across the bridge of his nose. He was joshing her and it made him all the more adorable.
“Why I would never stand you up.” Her hand slipped away from the coffee to adjust her bra. An action his eyes were quick to lock onto. “I was just suggesting that we could do something a little more…intense.”
“Uh, excuse me.” His voice was dry, judgmental. Jack’s hand went across the cool surface to steal her mug. Dragging it toward his body, he took a sip. It was sweet, just the way he liked it. He had another gulp. “Laser tag is intense.” Again, his nose crinkled as he set the now-empty mug back down on the cool surface. “Do you even know what it is?”
“Grown-ass men hiding behind short walls attempting to shoot each other with colorful guns that shoot lasers and make ridiculous noises. And to prevent eye damage, you wear goggles. Yes?”
“Grown-assed men?” Jack scoffed. “You do realize there will be sixteen year olds pining for you.”
“Whaaaa?” He tried to play off his comment like it was nothing.
She glared at him. “Jack…” She reached across the table to steal back her coffee. Of course it was empty. She now-annoyed glare flickered up to Jack. “Jack what is this talk about sixteen year olds…”
“Uh…” He bit his lip. He forgot to mention it was Discount Wednesday, the day when all the youngsters would flock to the arena to pawn n00bs. And Jack, being Jack, wanted to kick some serious ass and show those punks that he was still the king of laser pointers and ridiculous sound effects.
“You’re not serious.” Her face void of all emotion.
“I…am…?” His brows furrowed as his sheepish grin appeared. She was going to kill him. “Heh.” He felt the sweat beads forming just above his brow. He really needed to learn to talk less.
“Jack Morrison,” she was now coming to him. She slinked like a lioness hunting her prey. With each step corner, Jack felt the hairs on his neck rise. This was it. He was a goner. She was going to eat him-and not in the sexual fantasy kind of way he was hoping for!
Closing his eyes, he braced for impact; he was done for.
But nothing came.
Slowly, he peeled open his baby blues to spy himself staring down the slope of her fingers. Her hand. Her gun-shaped hand.
“Pew, pew,” she smirked. “Plashooooo! Aaaaand you’re dead.”
“Plashooo? What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He tried to hide his laugh.
“Is that not the noise you made?”
He broke into a fit of laughter. “No, it was not 'plashooo;’ it was faaashoooo.”
“Close enough,” she quipped before a smirk drew up the edges of her lips.
Lips falling apart, they quickly reformed back into a into a smile. She was damn cute.
“Ang,” he tried to contain his amusement. “Are you, are you saying…” His eyes sparkled much like the snow on a sunny day.
“I’m saying let’s go kick some ass and get your name back up on that leaderboard.” She smirked before holstering her fake hand-shaped gun. “We’ll show ’m why no one can match the peerless might of Jack Morrison!”
The ride over to the arena was full of Jack giving Angela tips. Do this, don’t do that, avoid this. Always go for a kill-shot but, if you can’t, aim for a limb. Make them crawl. Make them suffer.
“Wait, I thought this was laser tag?” She blinked at him with a deer in the headlights look. “Since when does shooting someone in a limb help?”
“This isn’t just laser tag. This is extreme laser tag. If you get hit, the gear you wear alters your condition. So if you’re shot in the leg, the leg armor will become stiff and lethargic, making it ten times harder to walk. Making you any easy target.”
“Oh jeez,” Angela’s hands fell around her face. “I’m going to die.”
“Nonsense,” Jack flashed her a grin. “Stick with me, and you’ll never go hungry again!”
“Jack,” Angela flipped to the radio; she was sick of listening to Jack’s old mixed tapes. He had a knack for hinting Disney songs in the middle of some good tunes. “Why are we listening to the Lion King?”
“That was… uh… Fareeha?”
“Uh-huh. Because Ana would let you take her precious little goddess in this death trap.”
“What! Old Blue is no deathtrap.” He pat the hard edges of his Jeep Wrangler’s steering wheel. “She’s just… seen… better… days?”
Ang smirked. He was a cutie. “Admit it, you’re a kid at heart and you know it.”
“I’m a kid at heart and I know it.”
“See,” she wore a warm smile, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“No,” he flicked the station back. “No it wasn’t.”
Pulling into a vacant parking spot, Jack undid his seat belt before sliding out of the Jeep. One of the few perks of having no doors meant never having to unlock the doors! And, since it was ancient as fuck, he didn’t have to worry about anyone stealing anything. What was there to steal? A hard, cushion-less bench? The junker radio? The steering wheel from hell? The doors-oh wait, he took those off already.
It was a good thing it was a warm summer night. Then again, if it were any other season, he’d have bolted the doors back on and flipped to the hard top. He had no interest in freezing his lovely blonde.
“We’re here,” Jack could barely contain his excitement.
“I supp- wait a minute.” Her eyes shifted over to an all too familiar car. “Jack…” She pointed toward the vehicle. “That better not be who I t-”
“Angela!” Jesse rounded the truck and rushed up to the couple. “Jack said you’d be joining us tonight.”
She wished she’d said no. Had she known that other Overwatch agents were coming, she would’t have signed up for this. She had absolutely no desire to show off just how bad she was at aiming, at shooting. Besides, what’s this supposed to be date night, as in just Jack and Angela…?
“Angie! Jessica!” A familiar child’s voice came from behind them. Seconds later, the blurred figure rocketed into Angela’s stomach where she buried her head. Ang gave Fareeha’s head a good pat; the kid was growing up to be quite the beautiful young lady.
“Jessica?” Dare she even inquire?
“Jessica. We had a tea party this morning and I painted his nails. He is now Lady Jessica.”
Ang shot Jesse’s nails a look. Sure enough, they were a pretty, sparkly pink color. “Charming,” she smirked.
“Reyes said I could!” As soon as she stated it, the tanned man appeared from behind her.
“No, I said you could if Jesse said it was fine.”
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. And Jesse groaned. Clearly she relayed a different message to the cowboy.
“Well, kiddos,” Jack flashed the crew a wide grin, “are we ready to-”
“Daaaamn, look at these losers!” A bunch of young punks exited a mini-van.
“Dude, you think they can even see?”
“Oh snap, hot fuckin damn, check out Blondie.”
“You mean legs for days.”
Ang turned her head to Jack. It was his cue to do something.
“You do realize,” he quickly bridged the gap between his party and the thug-like teens, “she knows about a dozen different ways to kill you without leaving a trace behind, right?” Every word he spoke was done so in a way that would send a shiver down the spine. Didn’t help that he had this dark, shifty look in his eyes.
The majority shuttered at the comment; not really fans of death. All but one. And that one seemed impressed. “Well then, I look forward to meeting her kiss of death.”
“Kiss of…?!” Jack hiked up his sleeves. “Why I outta-”
“Jack,” Fareeha was holding on the man’s black t-shirt, “why don’t we do this the right way.”
“The right way?” His curiosity got the best of him.
Jesse stepped forward, loving the idea. He knew exactly where the kid was going. “Winner gets the girl, duh. Whoever has the high score gets to take Angela home.”
“Oh dear lord,” Angela muttered. “I am not a prize!”
“Worried your old man will lose you to me?” The kid cracked a smirk.
“Jack,” her head snapped to him.
“Don’t worry, hun.” His arms fell boastfully on his hips. “I won’t lose.”
Once in the arena, the crew was given their gear. The rules were read in perhaps the most monotone, lackluster voice they’d ever heard (really, it made the rules drag on and on and on). And the scoreboard served as a taunting reminder as to what their goal was.
“Old man,” the kid from before stepped forward, “you’re going to need this. Good luck because,” his finger pointed up at the score board, “I’m JACK1N0FF-007.”
Jack gagged before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh yeah, kid? See those scoreboards?” He pointed to the ones from previous years. “I’m SKIPPY76.”
The raven’s jaw fell on the floor and lingered there just long enough to collect dust.
“Yeah,” he recovered with complacent grin. “Still, thanks for the luck, kiddo.” He winked before moving to the weapon’s locker. It was time to load up and move out. “You wanna pistol?” He grabbed one for Ang. Before passing it to her, he fiddled with it. Not overly fond of the design, he put it back and picked up another one. It looked identical but this one had a better weight to it. That and it was white and gold instead of green and blue.
“Preferably. Unless there’s a minigun or rocket launcher.”
Jack cocked a brow. “Why would you want one of those?”
Fareeha laughed and answered for Angela. “Because you don’t need to aim with those, silly!”
“Exactly. Because I can’t miss.”
The darkness ate her. It swallowed her whole.
Despite her best attempts, Angela couldn’t get the flashbacks out of her mind. She knew all of this was fake. For fun. To help the guys relax. But the bang-bang-bang and the wisps of smoke just brought back ghosts. Horrors.
Clinging to her pistol for dear life, Angela tried to find her way out. She’s holed herself up in a corner underneath the stairwell to the upper level. Thus far, no one had spotted her. And although she was grateful fort his, she was more concerned with leaving here. Getting back into the light. Away from this. Away from the memories.
Crawling on her stomach, the blonde moved like a snail across the concrete floor. A few times, she lowered her head too much, which caused her chin to bear a few cuts, similar to rug burn. Nothing major, all minor nicks, but enough that it looked like she was having a terrible time.
She was, what, nineteen? She lost her parents when she was a kid and ever since that day, she’d been taken from the war. Ran from the darkness. She forced herself to learn. To become a scientist, a doctor. She sought to save lives, rather than take them.
And then, one day, Overwatch came knocking. They promised to help her dream become a reality. They spoke of peace, of justice.
They had one wish for her. To smile.
She had one wish for them. To save.
Together, they would bring about a change.
Each day spent with Overwatch, Angela grew closer to a medical breakthrough. She spent countless hours hunched over a desk, a petri dish, ceaseless amounts of data, endless hours of graphs, charts, and research notes, the occasional db (dead body). She was glad to be safe, behind closed doors. Welled up in some state-of-the-art facility.
And then, then the riots happened. The uprisings. The attacks.
Her hand was forced. She was put on the field, but not as a soldier. She was a medic. She was there to help.
To kill, to hurt? That wasn’t her. She hated violence. Loathed it.
Why did I agree to this? She kept asking herself that question. Even though this arena was fake, the guns were fake, she couldn’t stop the bombs her mind dropped on her.
The blood. Her mother’s screen. Her father’s final words.
She jumped from her skin. Gun fumbling from her hands, those panicked blue eyes looked up at the voice with the utmost sense of fear. Her face flushed of all its color. Her wide-eyed, frightened stare made her look small, weak. Sheer terror controlled every aspect of her form. She was petrified.
“Angela,” his voice broke down her walls. His arms wrapped around her. Reminded her that she was safe. That this was all just a game. It was for fun. To relax.
“Shhh,” he continued to hold her, coddling her face against his chest plate. “I’ve got you,” he holstered his gun. They were safe, out of laser point’s way. For a moment, he could hold her. Enjoy her.
“Shhhh,” he cooed again. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
At this point, Jack realized the game of laser tag was no longer top priority. Angela was shaking to the core. She felt numb, cold. Something was definitely wrong and, despite wanting to get the high score, he knew catering to Angela’s needs far outweighed his own boyish desires.
“Ang,” his cheek pressed lightly against hers. Slowly, through contact, he felt his own flesh cool. Each second he kept his cheek pressed against hers meant an exchange of heat and much needed comfort. His warmth into her frozen, scared body. He’d get her back. Push away the fragments of darker days, bitter nights.
Hands completely engulfing her, he tugged the woman down into his lap. They were literally sitting ducks. Anyone that came down the stairs would have a clear shot at them, Jack knew this. But, again, his need to help Angela cope with the darkness overcame all other needs.
It also helped that Jesse was on top of things. High up in a tower, he kept a close eye on the pair. If anyone got too close, he’d begin suppression fire and convince them to turn their sorry asses around. As much as he hated to admit it, seeing Jack with Ang did make him happy. Jack was the right choice, when push came to shove.
“Jessica,” Fareeha tugged on Jesse’s vest, “why aren’t we moving?”
“New mission,” he retorted. “Need to protect the fallen angel,” he gestured down to Angela.
Eyes wide, the raven puffed out her cheeks. “We’ll protect them, just like they always protect us!”
Slowly, her color returned. She felt warm again. Whole again.
Who knew a few long minutes sitting in the dark could do this? She always hated the dark and yet, with his arms wrapped firmly around her, the dark didn’t seem so bad.
“J-Jack,” her voice cracked as she fought back her frustrated tears. She was ruining date night. She was ruining his chance to get the high score.
“Nope,” he blew a puff of air against her cheek. “You’re not allowed to say it.” When his lips made contact with her taut flesh, a farting noise jiggled her cheek. In that split second, both burst into laughter.
“Jack Morrison,” she swatted loosely at him, “that is not the kind of behavior a soldier like yo-”
Again, he pressed his lips firmly against her. This time, it was her neck. Forcefully blowing into her skin, another gassy (well this time more airy) noise escaped from her folds.
“Jaaaack,” she fought to keep that laugh in her throat.
He huffed in another big gulp of air. Burrowing back into her neck, he recreated that tender, juicy, farting noise from before.
Unable to contain her laughter any longer, she burst into both tears and a fit of laughter. Each chuckle caused her stomach to ache. This was too much. He was too much. The feeling-like the buzz on your lips when you hum-tickled. It fought the darkness and drew forth the mood she needed.
After snorting a few few more times, she eventually pulled away from him. Panting, Angela ran a hand across her forehead. With weary eyes, she gave Jack a once over. “Just how old are you again?”
“According to you?” There was that devilish grin of his. “Old.”
“I…” she was flustered. Her face completely red. She did call him old…but… ugh!
His spryness caused her to gleam. Despite having a good few years on her, he was still as young as she was. Hell, probably younger. Mature in the mind (and bed), but all goofs and giggles when it counted.
“Jack,” she rose with the help of his extended hand. “Thank you.”
“For…?” His head cocked to the side.
“This,” she leaned forward. A kiss landed square on his lips. “For being you.”
One kiss wasn’t enough. Hands falling around her hips, he yanked his woman in close. Their noses butt against one another as their lips became familiar with each other’s.
There was no forcing. There was just doing.
Twisting his lips, Jack plunged in deeper. His tongue twirled around hers, which caused her heart to skip a beat. He was always so smooth. So perfect.
His kisses? Ugh, they were to die for.
Melting into him, she began to purr.
“Jaaaack,” she half-moaned, half-pleaded ,“you’re the devil.”
“Uh-huh,” his lips separated from hers. “Because I sometimes run around in this red and black Devil Suit. Yup, you got me.”
Chewing her lip, she flitted her lashes up at him. “It’s only a prototype.”
“And it’s only for my eyes. In my bed.”
“Ooooh?” Her sweet breath kissed him right in the face. She loved to see him get jealous. Get clingy.
In for another kiss she went. This time, she put her tongue in his mouth. She liked the feel of his teeth. Smooth, polished. Even though they weren’t perfect cosmetically speaking (they weren’t in a straight line all the time), she loved them. They were like a game to her. She loved the dips and turns. The cracks, the crevices. The way his-
She pulled back. “I think I owe you,” she flirted.
Jack’s smug mug sat flat on his face. “You won’t hear me c-”
The tail end of his comment was drowned out by the whirl of the alarm. Sixty seconds remaining.
“You better get out there,” Ang commented, noticing that he was just a handful of points behind first place.
“Eh,” Jack shrugged, “I’ve got something better right here.”
Her cheeks pulsed a raspberry color.
Forcefully yet gingerly, he shoved her right into a corner. There, he allowed their lips to crash into one another yet again.
She moaned into his mouth. He thrust his hips forward just a bit.
They wanted each other. And bad.
Too bad they were surrounded by young punks.
Still, once they got home-assuming Jack could last that long in the Jeep and not pull over on some side road-they’d have their fun. Hash it all out. Between the sheets.
Her hand fell in his soft blonde locks while the other one copped a feel of that mighty fine ass (who cares if it looked flat-he was just bad at picking out decent butt-fitting pants).
In return, Jack’s hands slipped beneath her shirt. So what if the straps of the breast plate complicated things. He figured out how to fondle her breasts in the darkness. Even if only for a second.
“Twenty,” a countdown began. “Nineteen.”
Angela’s heart raced. Jack’s thundered within his chest.
Each kiss grew sloppier. Wetter. They needed to bust outta this popsicle joint and get down on each other. But the moment, the darkness, the risk-oh was it tempting.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
“Pew, pew, plashooooo!”
A blinding blue light pushed all the shadows off her face. Her chest flickered. It pulsed. It glowed.
Eyes furrowing, she patted at the flashing lights.
“Three… M3RCY down … one…!”
The lights came on. The entire arena was a mess of smoke and painfully hideous decorations that were to server as 'walls’ and 'bushes.’
Blinking, she looked up from her chest and over to Jack.
There, plastered across his face was the biggest, most devious grin she’d ever seen.
“JACK MORRISON,” she stepped forward to smash the hell out of him.
Hands up, he turned quickly on his heels.
“And that’s my cue to run like hell!”
As she bolted after him, her ears picked up the announcer’s words.
“SKIPPY76 takes the top spot! SKIPPY76 is the winner!”
Despite hating him for using her as his final set of points, she was secretly happy to know that Jack had won. That and the fact that he chose her laser noise sound effect to finish her off.
Theres a post going around about lego joker being better than jared and its so frustrating cause i legit dont understand why people didnt like him
Hi, thanks for coming to me with this because I have about 1 million reasons why people didn’t like Jared’s Joker and, um, 999,999 of them are David Ayer.
It’s been like 6 months and people can’t get over their cute little “edgy Jared Leto” joke that wasn’t actually real and was manufactured to get publicity for a film that subsequently cut him from most of it. That’s right: make the MOST IMPORTANT Batman villain aka your main villain look like a douche, make people hate him, then release your movie without him so that people are like, “Well I’m going cuz Jared’s not in it.”
Trust me, if you are one of many sweet Echelon whom I love and respect more than these outsiders with opinions, you need to ignore them. We know Jared and we know when he needs to be criticized versus when it’s just a mass crucifixion for the purpose of being cool and jumping on herd mentality.
Do you read comic books? I do, primarily Batman ones, and I know the Joker. For the three minutes Jared was on screen in that travesty known as Suicide Squad, he was perfectly in character. He literally acted the character, but people attack him because David Ayer is a jackass.
They haven’t seen Lego Batman. They haven’t seen Suicide Squad. They just wanna jump on this train of hate. Trust me, David Ayer isn’t Shah Rukh Khan, and these haters aren’t Kajol. It’s best if they just stay in their lanes.
He cracks a wide smile, laughing a little to himself. This is a joke, right? Surely everyone already knows the answer. (This is one of those times he’s so caught up in himself that he forgets that other people’s lives don’t actually revolve around him.) “Well, obviously there’s Wes, one of my oldest and closest friends. And I guess, even though they feel like family, and I always say they’re my cousins, Justin, Dotty and Bryony fit the bill too. Then, of course, there’s Charlie and Tia, my movie and gossip buddies, respectively. It goes deeper than that – for all of these friendships, really – but for the sake of keeping things quick, I’m keeping things simple, like my approach to friendships in the first place! So!” He breathes deeply, his eyes darting back and forth a little as he goes over the names he’s already said. “That leaves Serenity, who’s… I don’t know if we’re technically ‘close friends’ but things between us have always sort of been a little outside the lines of just a standard friendship. And then Marie, my dearest Marie. She’s basically in love with me but too ashamed to admit it, but I still respect her and cherish our current friendship.” A friendship he knows he’s exaggerating, but that’s the fun part, and any other description of their dynamic would be inauthentic enough that he’d feel dishonest. “And last but not least – at least I hope not? – there’s Emilia. I don’t think we’re close friends yet, but we share a lot of mutual friends and I’ve enjoyed her company the few times we’ve hung out, so maybe we’ll grow closer soon. That’d be… Pretty cool, actually.” – (y’all ready for this?)@wesofmaldonia, @justinwoodsofc, @motherdotty, @bryonyed, @charlielabouff, @sparkletia, @serenitytriton, @cogsworthclaudette, @emiliafitzherbert
I was tagged by @howlingdawn like a million years ago but I am the laziest.
Rules: Tell us your one favorite character from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people
And here they are, in no particular order… My faves!
1. Supernatural - Sam Winchester, the beautiful, gentle, sweet, brilliant puppy disguised as a Sasquatch, who never lets the horrible shit he’s been through make him any less kind, ever. He’s so good. Though I have to admit, Jody and Donna and Charlie and Meg 2.0 are all 700% badasses and I wish they could have their own show.
2. Lord of the Rings - Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Elfstone, heir of Elendil, the wise and learned king disguised as a scruffy mendicant naturalist wanderer. When I grow up I want to be him. Except maybe with less inner turmoil? And definitely more bathing.
3. Harry Potter - Nymphadora Tonks, proof that one can be clumsy, playful, flighty, and still be a total BAMF auror, while also landing oneself the greatest were-wizard husband in the history of both were-wizards AND husbands.
4. Star Wars - Rey, the self-sufficient, tough, desert-kid with beautifully improbable and naive dreams. Too good for this world. Or any worlds she visits, really. Actually, she deserves her own galaxy. A green one.
5. The Stormlight Archive - Kaladin Stormblessed, the saltiest, grumpiest, old-man-iest, humorless 19 year-old soldier/slave/bridgeman/windrunner in the Cosmere. Way, way, WAY beneath the harsh exterior, he’s fiercely loyal and selfless and feels things so deeply. But I’d still pick Hoid over him if I didn’t feel like that was cheating…
6. Criminal Minds - Dr. Spencer Reid, the sensitive, struggling, socially inept profiler, who is such a fucking genius, and who is constantly underestimated and surprises the hell out of people when they see how strong and brave and kind he is. I’m sorry Penelope, you’re such a close second!
7. The Belgariad / The Mallorean - Silk, prince of Drasnia, the thieving, rat-faced acrobat spy with a wholly mercenary mind. Somehow good and kind and unwavering in his moral code the second shit gets real and snaps him out of his amusements. Bella or Durnik would probably be next in line, but honestly, I love all of these characters so much. They are all my precious children, even the 7000 year-old grumpy magic-hobo.
8. Star Trek - Leonard McCoy. Bones. Southern smart-ass. Prickliest caregiver. Eternally grumpy and sassy and disapproving and scolding and ADORBS. My future husband. NO OTHER CHARACTER COMES CLOSE IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU BONES
9. Firefly - Jayne Cobb. It’s entirely because of the hat, why lie? Also the excitement about receiving said hat, and the adorable way he reads the letter from his mother out loud when opening the package containing said hat… Oh, and the general snarkiness. And the fact that he names his favorite gun Vera. Alright, fine, it isn’t just because of the hat. They’re the most amazing crew in the ‘verse, though, and I could literally write a dissertation on why each of them is the best ever.
10. Archer - Pam Poovey. I don’t even need to explain this one, it’s so blatantly obvious that she is the best. If you disagree, I will fight you. Like Pam would. Because, yes, she is a desirable, full-bodied woman with so much love to give, but she is also a BEAST.
This concludes our mini-essays professing our undying love for so many fictional but incredible people. Thank you for reading @jackievonawesome, we hope you will tumbl with us again.
k so I’ve been playing a lot of harvest moon lately as one does and trying to woo marlin as one does and was hit by a realization that probably all marlin fans (if there are such a thing) did a million years ago
what if marlin’s “illness” isn’t really a sickly illness but something more like a disorder.
by that I mean what if marlin has mild alcoholism??
in anwl if you ask him his hobbies he says he doesn’t have any “unless you count drinking” which seems like an odd thing to say to a girl you fancy (it’s one of the heart scenes so it’s safe to assume he likes you when he says this)
he rarely leaves the farm and when he does a few times a week he’s usually seen at the bar before coming straight home
I’ve never gotten to the point (yet, I’ll probably go back to the game at some point) where I actually married him but I believe when your son is born he says something expressing concern over your child’s health? is he scared his habits will influence him?
at one point he says he liked living in the city, but he got too sick so his doctor told him to try living on the farm to see if his health improved. if it was a serious health condition I don’t think just fresh air would cure it. maybe the pressure of city life brought him to drink more? maybe his doctor is actually a psychologist? I’m grasping at straws here but idk idk
in the ds game (I only have Cute so I don’t know if it’s similar on the original version or not) one of his favorite gifts is wine. obviously he could just like wine but also ???
if you talk to marlin he says something about his ancestors being sickly so it must be hereditary. It doesn’t always, but sometimes it runs in families.
if you talk to him while he’s at the blue bar I think he says something how his family has been going to the bar for generations and how he wonders if his family drank like that too. my guess would be yes.
now I’m not here to say that marlin is a total drunk like you see in movies or anything, and if this is the case he is obviously aware of his problem, i’m just giving some character analysis
now that I’ve officially put way too much thought into a character from a video game about farming I think I’ll shut up now
I think the reason a lot of fans don’t like arzaylea is because luke hasn’t confirmed anything yet, and she’s out there subtweeting him constantly, posting pics of them together (which she later deletes, after millions of people have seen it), tagging him in stuff which he obviously isn’t going to see bc he gets millions of notifs a day, and she probably does it bc she knows it’ll come up in ppls notifs. She’s literally trying to make herself seem as involved with him as possible, and lukes not acknowledging it and I think that’s what a lot of us don’t like, the fact that she’s doing all she can to let people know about their “relationship” and luke isn’t, and it makes it seem like he isn’t happy or he thinks it’s something to hide ?? Which is probably the opposite of the truth but idk it’s just sketch and I love Luke I just hope he’s happy and that she’s a nice to him
DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT THIS IN ANYWAY SHAPE OR FORM OR REMOVE THIS CAPTION/STORY
Yeah I know I put my url on his head but I don’t anyone to take this. Please please don’t post this anywhere else. PLEASE.
Chris Evans. The Man. The Myth. The Meatball. For about 5+
years now he’s been my biggest celeb crush and one of the biggest influences on
my life. He has helped me so much with my anxiety and to meet him was one of
the greatest moments of my life.
Unfortunately I did not get to attend his panel, I had a
ticket for it, but I was supposed to show up at 7:40 am….It took me two hours
to get ready in my cosplay, so I had to sacrifice not seeing him in the panel
and get ready.
I waited in line for his photo op for a long time. I’d
already planned out what I wanted to say, and I was saying it in my head over
and over. I was so ready to just see him. I could sort of see him through the curtain
that the photo ops were taking place behind, as I got closer to getting my
photo with him.
The entire time I was in line, there was a family in front
of me, and they had their small son with them. They were trying to get him to
say “Nice to meet you Cap.” They said it over and over. And I guess he said it
because right when I was next in line to see Chris, I heard Chris say, “Nice to
meet you too buddy!” He was leaning down slightly to see the kid and I could
see the booty when he did that…Then Chris turned around and looked at me.
(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) He looks EXACTLY the way I thought he would. Like a dream.
But really he looks like the cutest angel you’ve ever seen. He’s not a giant
huge guy. He’s just a big muscular cutie and I was overwhelmed at just how CUTE
he is!!!! I was nervous and I went right into my description of what I wanted
for the pose. The whole time I was talking he was looking at me with those big
blue eyes and his eyebrows were raised as he listened. After I asked he said “Sure!”
And immediately put his hands on my face. He was so gentle and soft. And I didn’t
even think, I just instinctively put my hands on his chest (take that Peggy, I
put both hands!). His chest is like a wall. But at the same time it’s so soft???
(I feel like it’d be a good place to rest your head). In the photo you can see
my hands curved slightly. That’s cuz his chest is round. Y’all know. Y’all have
seen it. His chest is huge. (And I loved that he was taller and bigger than me,
I’m 5’8, but I was wearing high heels). Then Chris smiled his cute lil smile at
me when we faced each other. I saw lots of other people’s photo ops and they
are all fantastic (because lbr if you are in a pic with Chris it’s great no
matter what), but I was just so glad that Chris did that lil dorky Evans smile.
A lot of people got their pic with cutie Evans or Cap Evans and etc. But I got
the cutie dork Evans and I’m so happy. As soon as the pic was done I thanked
him profusely. (How do I tell him what he means in just saying “Thank you??”
For now that’ll have to do). He rubbed my arms and said “You’re very welcome.”
I wanted to hug him, but I was so dazed by his face and his VOICE and having
just touched his freaking chest I didn’t get the chance. The workers were
moving us along and I just didn’t have the time or the brain function.
I got tears in my eyes as I walked out of the room. I had
done it. I met my fave. I’ve cried several times in the past over the fact that
I never thought I would get to meet him. But I finally did. So don’t let anyone
tell you it’s not possible. It is. It just may take you 5 years. ;) I want to
meet him again to hug him for real, (and touch the beard), and tell him how
much he means to me. That was with out a doubt one of the greatest moments of
my life. I’m so overwhelmed and happy.
Please feel free to come yell at me about Chris, I loooove
talking about it!! Also this is all of my scattered thoughts and it probably
has typos. Just ignore them and look at Chris gently holding my face.
Also if you repost this pic anywhere I’ll hunt you down. Just
reblog/like it ok? Thanks!
The first part of the game is squinting at this and going “WE ARE THE GREAT ONES? WE ARE THE QUIET ONES? The second part of the game is blocking everyone who reblogs this with tags/comments I don’t like BECAUSE I CAN AND WILL CRAFT A UNIVERSE FOR MYSELF IN WHICH THESE NEW TATTOO DEVELOPMENTS ARE UNIVERSALLY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i just saw with my very own two eyes a bayern fan using “fucking little shit” and “bye bitch” to tag a post about mario going back to dortmund and i’m like really??? REALLY?? bayern has him sitting on the bench the whole season and still dare to ask €27 millions for him?? and then their awful fans recriminate him for leaving even after bayern was the part publicly telling him to basically fuck off because they didn’t want him anymore?? jesus christ, the things i have to see!!
I’m going to tag him in this, because he needs to hear me.
@markiplier listen up.
So yes, Mark more than likely has a gf now. Of course I’m heartbroken about it, as are millions of fans. But what did we expect to happen? There are tons of us in this community that all say we would love to share company and affection with him, but don’t think about how it affects his community of fans.
I’ve dealt with this horrible feeling before, having major crushes on YouTubers and film celebrities, and they’ve all faded. For example, I used to be such a weeaboo for Benedict Cumberbatch, and then he got married. I was sad, but after a day or so, I was over it. He was, what, 38 at the time? *cringes*
The situation with Mark and his gf is nothing new under the sun. We’re all going to either be happy for him that he’s found someone to heal his lonely, broken heart, or we’re going to mope around, wishing he chose us instead, or start having mild anxiety (as I am) fearing he’ll stop posting videos and we’d lose a very special friend.
But it makes us (including me) look like complete hypocrites when we swoon every time he mentions being lonesome, and imagine how joyous his life would be if he had someone by his side, but then start all this drama and whining when he DOES find someone. But if I or you were his romantic partner, we would be the cause of millions of broken hearts.
We’re all upset right now, but would it make you feel any better if you were his, and be selfish enough to let all his fans suffer for the sake of your relationship?
Let him live his life. He’s human; did you all expect him to stay single, just for his fans? He’ll lose a few hundred subs. It happens.