The Last Hours Gang As Michael Scott Quotes:

Because my last post about this didn't get much traction, I'll say it in a text post.

There is an upcoming global strike for Palestine. February 18th to the 25th. Talk about Palestine and other injustices, call your representatives and email them, boycott companies and limit spending during the week. Get your grocery shopping in now and only buy essentials during the week, please. Limit interaction on posts other than injustices around the world. If you can, skip work or school, though this is a privilege not everyone has.

Edit: It is 18th-25th not 18th-24th!! If you've already reblogged this, please reblog this version instead, edits don't show on past reblogs

Barbie, The Plastic Religion by Marianela Perelli and Pool Paolini (2014)

Wallpapers!!

I’ve been having requests on Instagram for a while and finally decided to act on it

“So you’ve heard, then?”

“That our parents want us to get married? Yes, I’ve heard.”

The protagonist lounged in their travelling tent, a glass of wine in hand. They were, in their mind, the very picture of regal despondency. 

“You don’t seem happy about it,” said the protagonist’s friend – their fiancé, now, they supposed.

“Are you?”

Their friend meandered further into the tent, looking over the protagonist’s books. “I don’t know. I guess if I have to be with someone …” A shrug. “It may be my best option for it to be you.”

“Your passion is overwhelming,” the protagonist deadpanned.

Their friend gave a wan smile. “I’m just trying to face facts.”

“Do you love me?”

Their friend looked up in surprise. 

It normally would have been embarrassing, to ask such a question so bluntly. But now, more than ever, was the time to have all their cards on the table.

To their friend’s credit, they didn’t shy away. “No,” they said. “Or … yes. But not how you mean.”

The protagonist took in a breath. “Explain.”

Their friend settled onto the sedan across from them, and was silent. The protagonist thought for a moment that they wouldn’t answer at all. But then they said, “If I could love anyone like that, it would be you.”

“But you can’t.”

Their friend cast their eyes over. “I’ve long suspected you of being the same.”

The protagonist leaned back, staring at the tarp ceiling. “Somewhat. I don’t feel romantic love, this is true. But I do feel …” They smiled to themself. “I find people sexually interesting, you could say.”

Their friend stilled. “Oh.”

“Do you think me a whore, for this?”

“No.” Their friend’s response was quick, and certain. It startled the protagonist.

A small lock of dread released in their heart. They smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Their friend cleared their throat. “Do you find me … interesting?”

The protagonist raised their brows. But, well, fair enough. Cards on the table.

“Yes,” they said, in all honesty.

Their friend nodded, seeming to pay close attention to the woven rugs splayed on the grass.

“I take it the feeling is not mutual.”

Their friend rubbed the back of their neck. “Do you think me cold, for not being able to feel any of it?”

“Never.”

Their friend nodded again.

But that did leave one question …

“Marriages usually involve sex,” the protagonist said. They placed their wine on the end table, leaning forward. “How were you planning to deal with that?”

Their friend shrugged. “Every station comes with its chores, I suppose.”

Horror washed over the protagonist.

“The wedding isn’t happening,” they said, bursting upwards. “I will speak with my father, I will – ”

“You will bring your country to ruin,” their friend said, rising to meet them. “Your kingdom needs this alliance even more than mine.”

“I will not take someone who is unwilling.”

Their friend stepped closer, and took the protagonist’s hand. “I would be willing.”

“Would you? Would you truly?”

Their friend faltered.

“I could not do that,” the protagonist said. “Not to anyone.” They squeezed their friend’s fingers. “And never to you.”

“So what, then?” Their friend met their gaze. “You’ll resign yourself to a life of celibacy? Because this marriage is happening, whether we like it or not.”

Now it was the protagonist’s turn to falter for words.

They both stayed like that for a time, stuck.

Then, a light flicked on in their friend’s eyes. “What if we got married, but as friends?”

The protagonist huffed out a laugh. “That’s an oxymoron, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“No, I’m serious.” Their friend took their other hand. “A marriage in name, but in practice …”

They dropped down to one knee, grinning. “[Protagonist], will you do me the honour of being my friend?”

The protagonist had to smile, in spite of themself. “What are you even suggesting?”

“We do the ceremony. Our kingdoms join. But we have separate beds. Separate rooms, even. And you can have a harem, with as many interesting people as you’d like. And I …” Their smile changed from scheming to sincere. “I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.”

The protagonist blinked. The idea sounded crazy, but …

“It could work.”

The next day, the two of them informed their parents the betrothal was happily accepted.

David and Patrick + a cute collection of casual kisses

We were fucking robbed of Hunter Husbands Dean and Cas. Imagine Dean getting nabbed and tied up by the bad guys. With every punch to the face or twist of the knife, Dean’s grin just gets wider and wider.

“When my boyfriend gets here, you’re toast,” he laughs even while spitting up blood.

The ominous crack of thunder and the flickering of the lights makes the bad guys look up.

Dean chuckles. “Right on time.”

Then the door flies off the hinges, the frame shattering into splinters, and a wrathful angel comes barreling in, angel blade raised and eyes blazing with grace. The baddies are shitting their pants with fear.

“Hey, babe,” Dean says, almost nonchalantly.

Castiel dispatches the bad guys in a fearsome display of power and finesse. As soon as the last one falls, Cas’s eyes fade to normal and he rushes to Dean’s side, wrath faded to worry. “Dean,” he breathes, pressing his hand gently to his love’s bloodied cheek to heal him.

In a second Dean is stitched back together and cleaned up. Cas slices the ropes tying him to the chair and the second Dean’s wrists are free he’s pulling Cas into a kiss.

“Next time, try to be a little faster?” Dean laughs against Cas’s lips. But really it’s fine. He knows his angel’s always got him.

Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

Bridgerton siblings as Brooklyn 99:

Anthony:

Benedict:

Colin:

Daphne:

Eloise:

Francesca:

Gregory:

Hyacinth:

ohhhh the detail of Finbar being Skug's nephew is inchresting 👀 though it makes me wonder if in your hc they know about it?

They do!

See, Finbar and Skug always felt like kind of an odd relationship.

Finbar isn't the sort of company Skug normally keeps - if you look at basically all his friends (except Scapegrace, who adopts him in much the same way a dirty stray cat adopts a random family) they tend to be very classy, highly intelligent, vaguely olde-worlde, verbal sparring sorts. Finbar is a punk rock stoner who barely knows where he is half the time and constantly forgets that Skug doesn't know his wife. But it's never mentioned how they met, or why Skug trusted Finbar enough to leave his emergency cache with him, or why Finbar sometimes treats Skug like family (i.e., calling him his kid's "Uncle Skulduggery").

So in my headcanon, it goes a little something like this:

Like? Petulance meets her husband while she's fixing planes for the brits during World War I. He's a pilot. They marry in the middle of the war, say ~1916.

Finbar is born ~1938, and once the war starts, he's looked after by his father's parents during the daytime while Petulance is working.

~1940. Petulance's husband is shot down in a dogfight. Finbar is the one who tells her daddy is dead - days before the authorities turn up on her doorstep to officially tell her she's a widow. She's inconsolable. Skug comes over from Ireland to support her, which is the first time he's ever met her son. He offers to bring her back to Dublin, set her up with whatever she needs, but she doesn't want to uproot her son from from his dad's home. Skug stays to help out, because she's struggling, and she's his favourite, and he has never not been there when she needed him.

1941. Height of the Blitz. She gets a call at some silly hour of the morning - her MIL has had an accident and has been admitted to hospital. She leaves toddler Finbar in Skug's care while she goes to be there for her MIL.

She never comes home. The hospital is a direct hit. Finbar is an orphan.

He's too little to really have a say in his custody. Skug makes the same offer of support to Petulance's FIL, if he'll raise the boy. The old man doesn't want to stay in London without his wife and son, so he takes Finbar and goes back to Ireland with Skug, away from the war. For most of Finbar's childhood, he's raised by his grandpa, with a generous monthly stipend from Skug to make sure they don't want for anything. There are very occasional, sporadic visits. But Finbar looks like Petulance, and most of the time Skug just...can't. It's too raw.

When Finbar's visions start getting more upsetting and more frequent, grandpa doesn't know what to do. He's aware of magic, but he doesn't trust it, and he prefers to pretend it doesn't exist. Eventually he reaches out to Skug, who pulls some strings at the Sanctuary to get info on Sensitives in County Dublin and - oh, how fortunate - finds one he knows. He puts Finbar in touch with Cassie, and she trains him to use his magic responsibly.

She's a hippie in the 60s, and when the 70s and 80s come around, Finbar gets really into the punk movement and feels like he fits in somewhere for the first time and becomes just. Really rooted in that whole subculture, which is a huge difference between him and Skulduggery "Got Tortured To Death For And Gaslit For A Century By Government, Continues To Work For Said Government" Pleasant, but also gives them something to bond over, because. Petulance was a revolutionary; she had Strong Opinions on Irish independence, she was a suffragette, she would've been very proud of her highly anti-establishment son. And that's bittersweet for both of them.

As with all Handbook stuff, I share credit with @thats-so-craven