Ain't no four-course meals over here. Jaters better munch on the last bit of dirt from the cliRAB that Kate skidaddled on, leaving Jack to fend for himself. That'll do it, after six years of nothing. Dirt is the best we could do. *chomp chomp*
:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl:
:lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao:
Look at the state of THIS. They're off to get the latest Erica-fic (AKA Jate discount) coupon. It's ALL FOR YOU JATERS.
:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl:
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! COME ON WATASHA. YOU GOT IT.
I KNOW. Why is every high-stake situation highjacked by Kate's adoration, adornment, and dedication to Jack? Too many situations to count, but this one here, her actually slowing down, the tension from her shoulders falling away, dropping her gun, like upon seeing her Jack will bend her over the top of the piano for what she's been wanting since she met him. I mean, C'MON SON.
LOOK AT HER. JUST STUCK IN A WORLD OF UNICORNS, RAINBOWS AND JACK ON THE PIANO IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIELD OF LILIES. I CAN'T. She was GONE.
:lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :lmao:
And how she's like so ADAMANT about staying there, even after Jack pointed out the damn Kodak equipment nearby:
"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU!"
GET OVER HIM KATE. JESUS! :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl:
ETA:
Watching ATBCHDI randomly yesterday, because I had an hour or so to spear and this moment here:
This one right here is clirabing the Hot 100. I'm so serious.
He just got his behind handed to him by Ethan, and she is all over him, in such a way that is really touching and poignant. THE HANRAB ON HIS FACE, THE CLOSING OF HER EYES ONCE HE WAKES UP AND THE "JACK..." LIKE REALLY THO???
Kate, personal space is a RIGHT, not a PRIVILEGE. :lol: