#tv!verse

[frodispatch]

the other three monkees using poor mike and his big hands as a stim toy.

in the episode where micky does his werewolf impression mike just offers up his hand to be chewed in a way that makes me think that this happens often, and micky will sometimes ask to just chew on Mike’s hand as long as he promises to be “be gentle”

I think Davy does this too, but he doesn’t ask, he just sometimes grabs and starts biting because he’s a feral animal when he’s comfortable at home and Mike has to talk to him about that.

Overall I think Davy’s a little rough with Mike because he’s a selfish little thing that they spoil the hell out of, and unlike micky who sometimes just goes buck wild but feels bad about it, Davy just’ll grab Mike’s hands and start doing things like grabbing his fingers and straightening them and making him clap and shit with no shame because he just sometimes needs to take his toddler-energy out on something and Mike just sits there and lets it happen (i promise he lets davy know if it’s too much and Davy will listen) Davy has no shame when they’re at home and he doesn’t have a girl over or something and Mike lets him just do what he needs to do because it lets davy let loose a bit.

Peter plays with Mike’s hands but he’s more gentle than Davy, and he doesn’t bite though sometimes he’ll put Mike’s hand up and press it against his mouth because it feels good. He’s just overall more gentle about it and because Mike feels safe and comfortable.

sometimes Mike has peter and Davy both at once playing with his hands (micky’s a bit embarrassed that he sometimes needs to let out his energy on Mike so he tries to really only fiddle with Mike’s hands when he’s in hyper mode or stressed out) and the duality of energy is funny.

all of this happens when they’re sitting on the couch and Mike just has his personal time taken up with his three monkee kiddos.

[yasyassie]

I can't get over this. I just can't.

[seagull9111]

guys btw this basically confirms black jason grace put that in your pipe and smoke it

[celestialtitania]

okay but reconcile this hades for me, who immediately upon learning kronos might return, insists percy ask him for sanctuary. immediately thought to PROTECT this kid in front of him. how this hades would ever and i mean EVER try to lock him in a cell so his own, much younger, son can take on the brunt of a prophecy that clearly states the hero will die. i just...no. tv hades would never.

tv hades needs his cabin for his kids, his wife, and a lot of rest. his rejection of being part of the war? social anxiety, and that's fine. but he would never want his kid to be the prophecy kid.

[cainscass]

CRIMINAL MINDS rewatch — Season 9

[10yrsyart]

(alternate music only video)

i struggle recreating the beauty the Holy Spirit shows me musically, with the limitations of my art. He always surprises me though, and i'm humbled at how lovely it turns out, despite me. but even so, nothing can compare.. nothing can convey the beauty of the Lord.

the most beautiful Being in the universe, our Creator, came down to be one of us and shed His blood for us. He knew we couldn't pay our sin debt ourselves, and He loved us so much He became the payment in our place. but death couldn't defeat Him and He rose on the third day.

it's only through faith in Jesus Christ and His blood that we're set free. He promises eternal life to all who believe in Him, and He's coming very soon to take us home. He is the only one worthy of praise; the only one Just and Loving and True enough to trust your life with. He will never betray you or abandon you. He has loved you unto the ends of the earth. don't wait to accept Him, time is almost up! ✝🕊

"And this is the way to have eternal life- to know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one You sent to earth. I brought glory to You here on earth by completing the work You gave Me to do. Now, Father, bring Me into the glory We shared before the world began." (John 17:3-5)

transcript:

Holy, Holy, Holy God Almighty

Holy, Holy, Holy God Almighty

Praise the Exalted Holy God

Maker of all the earth and the sky

Holy, Holy, King of Glory

Worship the Son of God Jesus Christ

Glory to the Holy Spirit will rise

You deserve all the honor

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

Praise the Exalted Holy God

Maker of all the earth and the sky

Holy, Holy, King of Glory

Worship the Son of God Jesus Christ

Glory to the Holy Spirit will rise

You deserve all the honor

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy

Holy, Holy, Holy, God Almighty

Holy, Holy, Holy, God Almighty

You're the One we call the True Almighty God

“I Am the Alpha and the Omega- the beginning and the end,” says the Lord God. “I Am the One Who is, Who was, and Who is still to come- the Almighty One.” -Revelation 1:8

[grishaxverse]

THE CELESTIAL TRIO THEY ARE GOING TO SAVE THE WORLD

[bi-dykes]

They got beef with a zoomer

[mydairpercabeth]

SEASON 2 SET LEAKS IM SO BEYOND HYPED

[zepskies]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGdFgGL1y/

I’ve been loving this trend and then realised this could literally bmd Ben and reader asking him to show how he would’ve moved to her in the 80s and even better cause he literally experienced it, I can see him being unwilling to entertain but slowly caving in when he sees she’s not breaking and giving him attention until he tries

LOL that's adorable. 😂 Thanks for thinking of Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)! Seems to be a theme this week lol! I went ahead and watched that TikTok and again it got me imaging the thing...

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) "Sliding Up" to You in the Club

I can imagine that coming up in conversation if the reader in BMD was being subjected to watching another one of his music videos. She'd be teasing him, of course, but he'd be defending himself and his career choices. It was the 80s!

And for your information, Ben says, women were fucking falling over themselves to have him sign their Rapture albums. It was frankly irritating when he went out. Sometimes, he just wanted to relax with a smoke and a glass of bourbon at the club. You scoff at that one.

He looks amused. "What, you think you would've been the only girl in America who didn't cream their panties when I showed up?"

You shoot him a wry brow raise. Do you have to remind him how you two met? Being tied to a chair with zip ties comes to mind.

But then, something else occurs to you. The first time you and Ben actually met was in a smokey club in Medellin, Colombia. You'd been "undercover" then, and though you hadn't danced with him, it makes you think...

"Okay, let's say we're at the club," you pose, with a sly smile. "It's 1983..."

You find the song "Too Shy" on your phone; quintessential 80s pop. The smooth riffs start playing. You get up to start vibing near him in the comfort of your living room. You're just swaying side to side with a little sensuous, playful bounce to your step, your hand movements simple.

Ben doesn't want to smile, but you're making it difficult as he lounges half across the couch.

"Come on. How would you slide up on me?" you taunt.

He arches a brow. "Slide?"

"You know what I mean. What was your move, huh?" you ask, teasing him with the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips in your yoga pants.

You saunter closer to him, beckoning him over to you. All the while you sing to yourself, "Too shy, shyyyy. Hush, hush, eye to eye..."

Ben rolls his eyes, reluctant to rise to your bait. But eventually, your teasing is too much for him to ignore. He pulls himself off the couch and comes up behind you.

He takes your hand while you're purposefully facing away from him, and smoothly turns you around, guiding you back into his arms like he's Fred Astaire. You utter a little gasp and grab onto his shoulders. Your gaze flicks up to his with a smile.

His lips curve as he looks down at you. He matches the vibe of the song as he moves along with you, but then he turns you around, holding you from behind with steady hands sliding down the curve of your waist. His strength is tempered just enough for you to feel it.

He gradually moves closer with every bounce of the beat, and soon every part of his body is molded to yours. Your hands fall over his as you subtly lean back against his chest.

He bows his head near your cheek, smiling, because he can hear your heart beating a little faster. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

"Gotcha."

AN: Once again, this turned into a little headcanon/imagine that I wasn't expecting. 🤣 Last post before I'm off on a trip all weekend! 💚

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@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

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@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

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@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess

@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland

@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina

@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic

@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Summary: you and Luke go to a party and some things happen while you’re under the influence.

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

[allelitewrestlings]

[i-ate-the-rats]

[rickber503]

So, as I said recently I want to do some tests trying different things, so here’s a little comic from the chapter ‘I settle my tab’ from Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief ⚡️

(let me know if you like the idea so in case I’ll start preparing more ✨)

Percy is simply iconic in every one of his lines and I wanted to try to play with a Percy who was still at the beginning of his journey.

Furthermore, I admit that I LOVE playing with the character design of the characters following their descriptions in the books, and Poseidon is no exception! Trying to represent the aspects that Rick Riordan highlights, such as his mysterious and indecipherable side or his fisherman-in-Hawaiian-dress look, is just too much fun. :D

I’m considering whether to also post some of my sketchbook pages, because I want to share with you part of the creative process behind the way I represent the characters, which I personally find the most fun and creative part behind every illustration or drawing I work on.

Let me know if you like the idea! ✨✨✨

[bunnblebeee]

I'M BACK WITH OUR BOYFRIEND♡

Ahahaha TV girl my beloved

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY TALKING ABOUT EPISODE 1 & 2 OF 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' S2 FOR DECIDER MAGAZINE.

DID TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTEND TO MAKE AEGON SO HILARIOUS?

“Well, look, I find him quite manic.”

“And I think, rather than playing humor — which is always a terrible idea because it always ends up not being funny when you play humor — I want to sort of bring this sort of frantic energy of him and kind of the nonchalance of his approach to being king these days.”

“I think it’s important to find levity at the beginning of something. You know, we’ve got to give him somewhere to go. And I genuinely think he is quite funny.”

TALKING ABOUT THE DEATH OF JAEHAERYS AND HIS CHARACTER IN THE NEXT EPISODES.

“The loss of Jaehaerys is huge. It’s momentous and it’s one of those things that just stains. It affects you on an atomic level now. It’s something you don’t ever fully digest and make sense of and kind of shake off.”

“So, yeah, it informs a lot of his decisions going forward.”

“I always had it in my head that he was kind of rebuilding the person he would have wanted to be through him.”

“I think he saw in Jaehaerys a part of himself.”

The actor explained that Aegon wanted to give Jaehaerys the “love and attention” that perhaps his parents didn’t.

“He saw elements of himself in [Jaehaerys] and it was a kind of a new start for him in a way. And now it’s been snatched from him.”

Without Jaehaerys, Aegon leans into his worst impulses. Aegon accelerates war plans, hanging every ratcatcher in the Red Keep in the hopes of nailing the one who abetted Jaehaerys’s death and firing his cautious grandfather Ser Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans) as Hand. Ser Criston Cole (Fabien Frankel) will now be Hand, ensuring more blood will be spilled.

Nevertheless, Tom Glynn-Carney’s descent into Aegon’s dark state of mind is never without a hint of humanity.

You understand that it’s grief propelling these choices. Grief for Jaehaerys, Aegon’s son and heir, grief for the “good” king Aegon could have been, and grief for the way his family has failed him.

TALKING ABOUT THE SCENE OF ALICENT FINDS AEGON CRYING BY THE FIRE. AND INSTEAD OF COMFORTING HER SON, ALICENT WORDLESSLY LEAVES HIM.

“There’s a great poem: ‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do.’ It goes on with it. But, yeah, it reminds me of that,” Glynn-Carney said, quoting Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse.”

It’s a poem that, like George R.R. Martin’s books, bemoans how, “Man hands on misery to man.”

Trauma begets more trauma, a theme House of the Dragon‘s interpersonal drama is excavating this season.