As An Spn Veteran This Scene Looks To Me Like A Slightly Older God Stuck In A Basically Floating Car

Ghosts AU but Humphrey & Julian swap screen time bc Humph wonders around in one piece just with a slight neck-ache whereas Julian died fuzzy-handcuffed to the bed & can’t leave so every time someone goes in there it’s like “oh, hey, he exists too.”

“Hi Julian, how are you?”

“Oh, you know. Fine; arm’s a bit stiff but can’t be helped, I suppose. Mustn’t complain.”

hold on babygirl dont die there will be a new freaky little character for you get insanely obsessed with

how are we doing gang

I love personalization. I love stickers on water bottles and on laptops. I love shitty marker drawing on the toes of converse. I love hand embroidered doodles on jeans. I love posters on walls. I love knick knacks on shelves. I love jewelry with goofy charms. I love when people take things and make them theirs.

Imagine you work at some fucking roadside diner in buttfuck nowhere and you have to wait a table with three dudes who aren't from around here and the guy with the long hair immediately pulls out his laptop with what looks like cult shit in the web browser and asks for your worst salad option, and the guy in the trenchcoat sniffs the pepper shaker and declares the molecules to be very sharp and the guy with the greenest eyes you've ever seen calls you sweetheart and then proceeds to engage with intimate eye contact with trenchcoat to a degree that is downright indecent and then orders the heart attack special on your menu and every time you walk past their table they're talking about that gruesome murder that happened in town and the pretty guy is feeding the trenchcoat guy fries while the hair guy talks about desecrating corpses

Imagine already thinking you're the thing that gets everything you love killed and then your best friend confesses his romantic feelings for you and the act of saying "I love you" to you specifically is what gets him killed? Yeah I'd be sobbing in the corner too I'd never get back up actually

Imagine you work at some fucking roadside diner in buttfuck nowhere and you have to wait a table with three dudes who aren't from around here and the guy with the long hair immediately pulls out his laptop with what looks like cult shit in the web browser and asks for your worst salad option, and the guy in the trenchcoat sniffs the pepper shaker and declares the molecules to be very sharp and the guy with the greenest eyes you've ever seen calls you sweetheart and then proceeds to engage with intimate eye contact with trenchcoat to a degree that is downright indecent and then orders the heart attack special on your menu and every time you walk past their table they're talking about that gruesome murder that happened in town and the pretty guy is feeding the trenchcoat guy fries while the hair guy talks about desecrating corpses

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!

“my husband, captain nash.” “maybe i should be dealing with someone else.” “oh you’re dealing with me.” she walked through fire to save her husband. conflict of interests aren’t going to stop her.

I imagine none of Wilson's hobbies or social outings involve anyone else from his demographic

Outside of work, he goes to his cooking class where I headcanon he's the only guy in his 40s who attends, I can see him awkwardly going to some library craft group and hanging out with the retirees who make up the rest of the group, maybe he was also the kind of kid who mostly had girl friends in school, being a young department head means he probably never studied with students his own age, etc etc etc

all of this contributes to how he has no idea what a normal typical friendship looks like between two middle-aged men, which explains his Everything™ with House