#jamesreece

Tumblr: *Full of hate posts about my fav actor with not real proof but only their made up ideas*

Me: ... Why should I bother? *leaves again*

Yeah yeah, I know the haters gonna be "Then leave loser" But I know that some of the are gonna get pissed because I know there's people that still love Chris and not believe all the shit people is saying about him.

Because seriously... Why hate an actor and then proceed to waist all your energy saying how much you hate that actor? I get it, you want the world to know you hate ChRis RaTt. But what's the point of hating on someone you all devote your energy to make thousands of post to remind the world that. Better use that energy to say something positive about the stuff you love, the stuff that makes you happy instead of criticizing a celebrity you barely know in a personal level.

I heard once on a video... 'if you don't have nothing nice to say, then it shouldn't be said' there are exceptions of course but... I don't see the point with Chris because; one, none of use know him personally; two, I get cristianos have a bad reputation with the LGBTQ+ but there are some nice people, really nice people. I'm catholic, and live in Mexico and trust me, here there's a lot of homophobia and religious bigotry and sexism but I have found people in that community that are really accepting of me. My godfather is a preacher and he was really happy when I told him I was trans. He even got excited wth me when I showed him my growing beard. And while I hate religion as well, I believe we should not judge people by their religion, nor their preference in clothing, their speech, their believes, on what other people say about that person and mostly those people barely know him.

I think I'm missing the point here, I type faster than my brain but at least I got this out of my chest.

For christ Pratt lovers... Here are some pics of our beloved Chris Pratt

James Reece

The Terminal List - Chapter 1 

The explosion knocked Reece back ten yards and ripped his helmet from his head as the entire military crest of the hill in front of him erupted in a concussion of violence and death. Teammates, friends, husbands, and fathers who one moment earlier had represented the best special operations force the world had ever known were gone in less than a second.

Reece never realized that he was momentarily knocked unconscious. The pain in his head brought him back into the fight before the dust began to settle and the reverberations from the explosion had drifted from the hills.

The professional in him immediately ensured he still had his weapon. Check. Next was a mental rundown of his body. Everything appeared to still be in the same place and working.

They knew. 

How? 

Later, Reece. Always improve your fighting position.

His eyes darted around looking in vain for his helmet and communications headset, eyes adjusting to the dark, hands moving in a frantic search until finally coming across it in the dirt.

Yes. Wait, too heavy to be my helmet. That’s because it’s not your helmet. It’s someone else’s. And the head is still in it. 

Even in the darkness it was clear to Reece that he was staring into the face of his longtime friend and Teammate, the big man with the huge beard and confident smile, and that his head was no longer attached to his body. Reece couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes but quickly brushed them aside. Focus. No time to mourn. Exploit all technical and tactical advantages. Check. Reece unsnapped the chinstrap, letting his friend’s head fall to the ground, and quickly put the helmet on his own head.

...

Reece and Boozer inched up the hill, the smell of cordite, blood, dust, and death heavy in the air. Movement to the left.

“B, I have movement. Don’t rush up. Continue to follow me,” Reece whispered into his radio. Boozer responded by keying his mike twice, signifying good copy.

Reece moved in the direction of the movement and what he now identified as moaning. Donny Mitchell, one of the youngest members of Reece’s team, lay dying among the rocks of eastern Afghanistan. His body missing from the waist down, he reached for Reece.

“Did we get them, sir?” Donny said weakly. “I’ve still got my rifle.”