UNCLE RICK PLEASEEEEE
It’s season 3 of the PJO show AKA The Titans Curse. Percy (Walker) is sitting in front of Aphordite Goddess of Love and Beauty who just so happens to look like an older version of his best friend Annabeth (Leah) totally unrelated we’re sure.
Then he blinks and the beautiful woman in front of him changes….now she has brown hair and blue eyes she smiles, its Alexandria Daddario movie Annabeth. Just a split second cameo and then she’s gone.
Now a different woman is sitting in front of Percy, a woman with blonde hair and hazel eyes Kristen Stokes Lightning Thief Musical Annabeth. She shifts and changes again.
The final and last woman we see before Percy has curly blonde hair, tanned skin, and stormy grey eyes it’s book Annabeth.
Percy doesn’t realise it but we do. The Goddess of love shows him every version of the girl he loves from every universe he loves her in. It’s beautiful, it’s cinema, it needs to happen.
I don't know how to make gifs and can't find the angle where it shows her face buried in his shoulder...
BUT HE IS ROCKING HER GENTLY.
and I'm dying
😵✌🏻
[Image: “i just realized that annabeth was probably trying to get to her aunt when she ran away. luke was from connecticut, right? which is a a couple hours south of boston. so when he and thalia found her she was probably trying to get north to find her aunt and cousin. she was looking for magnus.”]
Source: tiktok @leonardodevieve
What if Mulder and Scully got married in the three days between William’s birth and Mulder’s departure?
What if, when they decided Mulder had to leave to keep their family safe, they couldn’t stand the thought of being apart again without some tangible proof of their bond, evidence that they love each other and promise to be together for the rest of their lives?
What if they strapped Will into his carseat and called Maggie on the way to the courthouse, telling her to meet them there?
What if they tied pieces of string around each other’s fingers because they didn’t have time to buy rings? What if the only photo of that day was a hazy shot of the newlyweds in front of the courthouse, holding their newborn son between them, taken by Maggie on her disposable camera?
What if their wedding night was spent in a tight embrace, neither of them daring to close their eyes, wanting to soak in every last moment of their time together, only letting go to calm their son when he woke?
What if Mulder promised his wife that as soon as they reunited, he’d take her on the world’s most extravagant honeymoon? Anywhere in the world she wanted to go, he’d make it happen.
What if Scully received an unmarked package at her doorstep one day that contained only two things: Teena’s wedding ring and a Polaroid photo of Mulder’s left hand, gold band shining on his ring finger?
What if, each night, Mulder pressed a kiss to their wedding photo, placing it under his pillow before going to sleep?
What if Mulder laid there, months later, on a dingy motel room bed, his forehead pressed to his wife’s, and apologized for ruining their honeymoon plans?
What if Scully pulled him closer, brushed her lips against his ear, and whispered, There’s no place I’d rather be?
It's also what anybody means when they call the TARDIS a rusty, old model-T that's jimmy-rigged to hell and back and packed chock-full of the clutter of lifetimes.
So I'm washing a blanket. It is a weighted blanket so it cannot go in the ancient washing machine (can I just call that a washine? Is that allowed?). But it NEEDS to be washed. So I put it in the tub and filled it with hot water and detergent and got to scrubbing.
And I'm sat there beside this tub of hot water and suds and cloth, hands and forearms red from the heat of the water and the friction of the washing, sweat dripping into the mix off my forehead, and the thought wanders through my brain that this has been done, like this, for almost all of human history. Maybe it was a metal tub, or a wooden one, or a river or lake shore, but through all of our time here together we have done this thing in this way.
I cherish these moments so dearly. Washing and wringing and hanging. Kneading bread. Sweeping the floor. Putting things in baskets. Owning a bag with a strap or two for carrying things that need carrying. Building a fire. Roasting meat. These things are eternal for us and we have always done them. When I do these things it's like....it's not just me. It's everyone.
You may not be here but you did this thing. Your hands knew these motions. Your heart beat like mine, and I feel you there. I feel you here with me. Do you feel me too?
Individualism is a lie. Everything I am and everything I do was built by other people, and I have helped build others. You are with me and I am with you and there is so much love in that.
Does anyone else struggle with coming up with writing ideas? I want to write but I feel like I can’t come up with any original ideas.
Bruh did I just get clocked wtf
can't stop drawing txf and tbh creature crossover
Dying right now
it’s a beautiful day… paget wore a jemily t-shirt to the season 19 table read
Here for the gay little vibes: Criminal Minds, X-Files, Good Omens, Doctor Who, etc.
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