mick

i hate australian people they need a dumb fucking nickname for every single word. can’t even get in a car accident without some australian asshole coming up to you and saying “oh gotcha self in a carblammy there aintcha mate” kill yourself and go to hell

I believe deep in my bones that Ilya and Shane both indulge in private romantic fantasies but they're polar opposites. Ilya is daydreaming about kissing under the stars and holding hands and wearing each other's hoodies while traveling the world together. Meanwhile Shane has constructed an elaborate cohesive ongoing narrative where he single-handedly saves Ilya from certain death. In his daydreams that man is running into burning buildings, escaping tsunamis, taking down shooters, and fighting stalkers. He's walking through hurricanes, wrestling wild animals, and engaging in deadly highspeed car chases. Just the most insane intense shit you can imagine. And Ilya is lying there next to him like Yay I love cuddling my boring husband :) while Shane vividly fantasizes about Ilya calling him a smart good brave boy for saving him from psychological thriller villains. Do u see the vision. Because Shane does.

my headcanon is that people always assume ilya must be upset that none of his children look like him and that they're all the spitting image of shane, but ilya genuinely doesn't understand why anyone thinks that's a bad thing. his children have shane's freckles, shane's jet-black hair, shane's smile, and every time he looks at them, all he can see is the love of his life. he never wanted little copies of himself. if anything, he's grateful they all look like shane. every familiar feature feels like a gift, and sometimes he catches himself staring at them for a little too long because he's so overwhelmed by how much he loves them. somehow, he gets to see the face he fell in love with reflected in his children every single day, and he wouldn't have it any other way

it's extremely funny reading historical accounts of Spontaneous Human Combustion because it follows the normal historical trend of other 1800s paranormal phenomena where it stopped happening as much right around the time cameras were invented and stopped happening entirely when everyone started carrying mini cameras in their pockets, but unlike most others of its ilk, it was effectively replaced by this mysterious phenomena where alocoholics would spill liqour on themselves and then fall asleep smoking a cigarette and turn into a fireball. nobody knows if these two things are related

Soccer players are the horses of sports. They run around in fields for hours on end. They stub their toe and they die. They fall and they die. They run into each other and

(emerges 3 hours later covered in blood) i figured out what emotion i was feeling