Matthew Mercer: you can fight Matthew Mercer. The man is incredibly intelligent but he’s not especially buff. He might surprise you though, lanky people can be wily fighters. It would be an interesting fight regardless of who won or lost. He’d probably thank you for being a fan and help you to your feet if he defeated you. You can fight Matthew Mercer.
Marisha Ray: Do not fight Marisha Ray! Not only does she know actual marital arts, she used to be part of something called Fight Club where they used melee weapons. Dangerous with her fists or weapons. Do not fight Marisha Ray. (Also if you fight Marisha Ray I will find you and then *I* will fight you because she has enough jackasses being rude to her, and that needs to stop.)
Liam O’Brien: first you would have to catch him. The man runs 10 miles every day for fun so … good fucking luck. Even if you do catch him why would you want to fight him oh my god leave Liam O’Brien alone! (Also if you did fight him, you’d then have to defeat the combined rage of Sam, Laura, me, and half the fanbase charging to his defense.) You can fight Liam O’Brien but at what cost.
Taliesin Jaffe: you can fight Taliesin Jaffe. You shouldn’t, but you can. He has the power of Luck Manipulation granted to him by mysterious dark forces. Before you can blink, he’ll have defeated you, probably using something obscure from history. You can fight Taliesin Jaffe, but he’s going to win.
Laura Bailey: you can fight Laura Bailey but you will lose. Either she’ll take you out at the knees right away, or she’ll wink at you and you’ll fight yourself for her honor. Have you seen Laura Bailey she’s so cool and charming and amazing. You can fight Laura Bailey but you’ll lose. And you’ll deserve to lose, because how dare you.
Sam Riegel: you should absolutely fight Sam Riegel. Anytime, anywhere. Fight him in a Denny’s Parking lot, a grocery store, an arena. Fight this man. Win, lose, who cares? You must fight him.
Travis Willingham: you can fight Travis Willingham. If you’re buff he’ll fight you fair. If you’re smol and fierce he might be a little flustered. If you’re weak he’ll probably let you get in one hit before putting his hand on your forehead and keeping you at arm’s length until you wear yourself out. But he’d be nice about it. You can fight Travis Willingham. (Please note if you hurt him, you’ll have to answer to Laura Bailey, and that will not end well … for you.)
Brian Foster: you can fight Brian Foster. I’m pretty sure you’d win too. He self-deprecates so much, he might fight and defeat himself before you could even get to him. You can fight Brian Foster. (But like, maybe you shouldn’t. He beats himself up on the internet enough as it is.)
Ashley Johnson: no. How dare you even think about fighting Ashley Johnson. Go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done.
in the wake of this whole mess regarding a Certain Youtuber fucking up yet again, i thought i’d make a recommendation post for one of my favorite let’s players who is completely underrated, laura kate / laurakbuzz!!
huge thanks to everyone in there for being so kind and supportive!!!! a super special thanks to lancemclain for helping me w/ suggestions and my insecurities, i’d steal all the stars for u ❤
. Please feel free to suggest me more people anytime!!!
The morning after her father died, the first thing Laura saw upon waking was Bobby, curled up around his Wolverine doll–the one that he’d carried out of the lab, through a sewer, bundled into the fake bottom of a crate in the back of a truck, up the 5, across the deserts of Utah, the Rockies, and the long flat north that came after. He had carried it through these woods, through this fight and this flight, and there he was sleeping, pudgy hands curled close around it.
Laura had read the comics Gabriela and the other nurses had brought in for them. They had been assigned to learn how to read briefs, maps, instruments, but Gabriela had brought Laura comics about heroes.
In the lab, they had taught Delilah how to drag poison from green veins, how to find the sharpest edge at her beck and call, to strangle. The day before, Delilah had shredded the life out of men with a screaming rain of pine needles. She had wrapped long grasses around Rhodes’s ugly bolo tie and dragged him down and down. But that next day, that dawning day, Laura woke up to see Delilah calling small yellow apples down from a tree blooming out of season.
It had been a story in a comic book, Eden. It had been fiction, a fantasy, a dream, a random set of coordinates. Logan had suspected they would find nothing when they got there. He had been sure.
Sometimes promises are fiction. Sometimes they’re written on the backs of twice-folded photographs. Sometimes the nurse with the steadiest hands whispers to you in the middle of the night come with me child, wake up child, curl up in this duffel bag, stay quiet child, believe me child, we’re going, we’re going, I’ll get you somewhere safe.
Laura had curled up in that fabric-walled darkness, clutching her backpack to her chest. She had her ball, the paperwork that was her life writ out, two battered comic books. A photograph with a list of whispered names. They were not supposed to have names any more than they were supposed to have birthdays or comic books or childhoods.
Kind hands were waiting for them at the end of this journey. There was refuge. There were new names, visas and school where no one should bleed for anything except loose teeth and ignored blisters.
Logan had scoffed, and Laura hadn’t listened. She had said her friends’ names over and over. He had pointed to coordinates in a comic book, and she had said her family’s names over and over. She knew, the way Logan never did, the way Logan never would, that some days stories save you. Sometimes a nurse calls you child instead of by number, and gives you flimsy precious pages to read in the dark.
They knew the comic books were comic books. Laura knew, before she ever met Logan and his smelly, hopeless self, that the X-Men were no gods among men. Flimsy pages—she understood flimsy. She understood the way things tore–pages, clothing, skin and ligaments.
But sometimes you can make the story real. “Eden,” they said. They pressed the coordinates hand to hand, whisper to whisper, and they ran. They promised each other, and they found each other there, at coordinates that had been nothing until they made them a waystation, a place to rest. A watchtower.
Laura had carried so little out of that lab. She had the metal that lined her bones. She had her family’s names. She had a set of coordinates in a battered old comic, and she would carry that forever. It wasn’t real, but she was. It wasn’t real, that Eden, that haven, but she had been there.
She had run shrieking into Rictor’s arms. She had cried on Bobby and danced around the hard cracked dirt with him, each swinging the other in wide circles. Logan had slept safe there for the last time. She would carry it forever. Fading, flimsy pages. A tired man with a funny beard.
They would go next over shallow valleys and dry rocky peaks. Delilah would hunt down a deer in the woods, walking silent on fallen leaves and little sprouts, calling death down green and blooming. Rebecca would cook it up over the fire Bobby raised from sparks, and Laura would lie on her back with her hands on her full rounded belly and pretend she was a lion. When they came down from the mountains, the wide low fields would roll out below them for miles. There would be so much sky.
But for now, in this morning, this dawning day–there was a little boy in a wood, who was the safest he’d ever been. There was a little boy in a wood, with a yellow Wolverine doll held to his chest and Laura sat there in the waking light, watching him breathe.
And The Oscar Goes To Also on AO3 Being publicly in the closet means Stiles can’t go to the Academy Awards with who he really wants, but it’s not like he’s going to win so he doesn’t have to worry about slipping up and thanking Derek in his speech… right?
This one is for my OSA (one sentence anon) who keeps cheering me on and motivating me. I wouldn’t have finished this WIP if it wasn’t for you, so thanks dude, whoever you are!
Earlier in his career, Stiles Stilinski had thought that walking one red carpet meant he had walked them all, but this award season had proved that assumption to be totally false. Walking a red carpet when you’ve been nominated for an award at the show was an entirely new experience. Sure, he had been nominated for People’s Choice Awards and more fan-driven ones before, but this year he had finally broken out of the rom-com and buddy comedy genres and into roles that challenged him. And this year, he was walking the red carpet at the Oscar with the chance to win not just one, but two once he entered the building.
Some had called 2016 his breakout year, others had said they knew that he could do it all along, and others still had questioned his ability to take on some of the more serious roles until they saw the films he was starring in. So here he was, at his third Academy Awards, but this time he was nominated instead of just attending. It had been a nerve-wracking award season that had left Stiles with a Golden Globe, a SAG award, and two Critic’s Choice awards, but none of that would hold a candle to this.
“Stiles, you have to move,” Lydia Martin–his agent and manager–said to him, pushing him toward the final reporter along the carpet. “Smile more.”
Stiles resisted the eyeroll that he could feel building; he didn’t want to be on the cover of some trashy tabloid with his eyes rolled back in his head and a caption commenting on his mental instability or an attitude problem. “Stiles! You look great,” Erica Reyes from Access Hollywood said, her voice sweet as syrup and her lips fire-engine red.
“So do you, Ms. Reyes. Are you sure I can’t convince you to leave your husband and run away with me?” Stiles said with a charming smile. He had gone to UCLA with Erica’s husband Vernon Boyd and they had been, and still were, good friends. Boyd was currently the star wide receiver for the New Orleans Saints and would kick his ass if he were here in that moment.
“Ah ah ah, you know that I’m loyal,” Erica said with a smile. “But what about you? Who are you here with? Have a hot date that you’re hiding somewhere?”
“Of course I do,” Stiles told her. “My dad’s right over there.”
“Oh! Of course he is; he’s your permanent date during award season.” Erica said and then waved. “Hi, Sheriff.”
John Stilinski waved back with a smile, “Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m wearing?”
“I would, but that’s Laura Hale and I need to catch her before she gets inside. She and that hunky artist brother of hers skipped half the reporters already; I can’t let them skip me,” Erica said, giving Stiles a little smile. “It was lovely talking to you Stiles; good luck!”
EDIT: I mean, 321 notes?? Like?? The Adlockers are truly alive haha thank you all for liking/reblogging this
Also, for all you anti’s, please get off my blog if you don’t like Adlock/Irene Adler. I don’t go snooping around yours to spread hate on your ship, so please do me the favor of staying approximately 91056583461829473 billion miles away from me and my fellow Adlockers. Good day.
“Laura Hollis is the most complex math equation you have ever encountered in your life. You’ve known for a while that something’s off with her, that something’s not right. Something has seriously fucked that girl up. But you have never previously observed her from as close as you have been able to recently, with all the running in the mornings and the going to her games with Kirsch. There’s just something about her that doesn’t make sense and your brain - despite all the trauma it’s gone through or maybe because of it - can’t shake the curiosity.”
Vex is honestly the primary reason I got into Critical Role. I had no idea what it was and then I see this savvy bi ranger and I was hella into that. A billion hours of videos later and here we are ;A;
Renée Elise Goldsberry:
When you chew mint gum and then drink water right afterwards so that your whole mouth is cold but it's the most exhilarating feeling you have ever experienced in your life and you get goosebumps just from that one sip of water and that minty freshness
A cinnamon bun that is so sweet, so pure, so perfect, that you almost don't want to eat it but you do, and after you finish it you feel so content you just want to curl into a ball and fall asleep
The feeling when you're listening to a fantastic song and the sound travels from one earbud to the other
When your head's in someone's lap and they are playing with your hair and you're outside and you look up at the night sky and see all of the stars and life is good
That one swan song in every Broadway show that has the audience on its feet roaring with applause and crying and throwing roses on the stage when it finishes
That moment before a concert is about to start and all the lights go off and everyone starts screaming and your stomach drops and you feel like you're going to explode from the excitement
A dress that is so beautiful and it's the perfect length and the perfect color and you honestly feel like royalty just by LOOKING at it
When you were little and you would get sick and your mom would bring you chicken noodle soup and tuck you in and sing you to sleep while stroking your forehead.
That one perfume that smells SO GOOD and you have to stop yourself from spraying it all over yourself
Cartwheeling through a meadow of flowers while simultaneously rifting and singing the highest notes you possibly can
That one part in The Odd Life of Timothy Green where he is absorbing the light because of photosynthesis and he just closes his eyes and spreads his arms and basks in the glory
Barrett Wilbert Weed:
When you're at a party and your jam comes on and you and your friends kill it with your dance routine
A carnival at night with all of the bright lights on and you're sitting at the top of the Ferris Wheel eating cotton candy
Driving really fast and the wind is whipping your hair back and your radio's blasting music and you feel like you're flying.
Jessica Keenan Wynn:
When you make a sassy comeback and get complimented for it and you feel like a boss because you slayed everyone (yet again)