#but i guess not completely unexpected

[ruporas]

hugs hugs hugs (ID in alt)

[knightofleo]

[dyed-red]

one thing that always makes me ???? about the pilot is john's motel room.

he left his photo of him and the boys, he left his journal which the cops got, he left his freaking jacket. literally did not take the clothes jacket off his back. which is.... ????

if the demons (i.e., azazel and co) were literally on his ass to the extent that he had to drop everything, like everything, and run, wouldn't he have maybe given a heads up to sam and dean that Danger Was Imminent? or was he so entirely confident that they wouldn't be targeted and that only he himself was in danger, so he actually did drop everything and run but felt fine not even leaving a voicemail?

(if he thought that, uhhhh, just looking at jess, over here, and not saying anything).

like i get the narrative reason and function, but with all that in mind, the in-universe explanation that i land on is pretty much that john deliberately made it look like he had to drop everything and run. that he was in imminent, immediately, life-threatening danger, and this charade was mostly for dean. the logic of which is just... wild.

[prismit]

dead cells show looks sooo ugly but aside from that it does look fun to watch ngl.... i feel so conflicted

[oldtvandcomics]

I just wish death wasn't such an absolute taboo in our society.

My grandmother died unexpectedly. But, really? Did she really??

Once upon a time, a passer-by helped Death up when he'd fallen down alongside the road. To thank him, Death promised not to come unannounced, but to send a messenger ahead of him. Death sent illness, and fewer, and old age and grey hairs and aching joints. The man didn't recognize any of these as the promised messenger, and was genuinely shocked when Death showed up at his doorstep.

My grandmother died unexpectedly. She was old, and getting noticeably weaker for years now. The last two weeks, she could barely move her arms for pain in her shoulders. Eventually, she had to call a relative for help, who called a doctor, who called an ambulance to take her to the emergency. The next day, she died of heart failure. Unexpectedly.

She was, by a complete coincidence that we definitely won't need to worry about, almost exactly the same age as her father, when he died of sudden heart failure. Funny thing, these coincidences.

My grandfather also died unexpectedly. He had Parkinson's, and wasn't able to move much those last years. Just before his death, my mother took him to the hospital for a check-up, and left him there, then came back here where we live. According to my sister, she cried when she left my grandparents' city. At that time, we visited three times a year, so she knew perfectly well that she would be back in three months' time. Why would she cry? But no, my grandfather died unexpectedly.

The next one to go will be my aunt. It is pretty clear, has been pretty clear since she was diagnosed with cancer last year. We could, theoretically, like, prepare for it. But no, because you can't talk about death, so we can't even mention it unless I'm alone with my father.

"Thank you for helping me," said Death. "As a thanks, I will not come unannounced, but will send a messenger."

"That is a fine thing," said the man. "That way, I won't have to worry about you hiding behind every tree."

And if I say any of this out loud, then I'm an unforgivable asshole.

[sheepie-self-ships]

GET KISSED!!!!!!!!!

GWUH!!!!???? WHAT THE WHAAAA THIS IS SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭

[aliferousdreamer]

of course i just had to get some sad/bad news on my birthday

[cyclone-rachel]

still didn't get the General's name revealed, huh

[crowcryptid]

who knew the price of getting 4 days of alone time was a pet and family member passing away and 2 more family members being hospitalized (one is serious, the other will be fine)

All completely unrelated incidents. Just insane timing I guess.

Interesting series of phone calls these past 2 days.

[sunrise-on-the-shore]

i need so much time to process the information i have encountered today. i'm gonna be away for a bit.

[lovvelorrn]

i've read 3 ya romance-ish books in the past 7 days or something and now i feel so weird lmao

[merry-the-cookie]

also i can finally look at tumblr lol i didnt wanna get spoiled on the show and setlist and ykno what im super glad i wasnt

excited and also ScaredTM to see soundcheck this weekend

[italiantea]

this is by no means a groundbreaking revelation but i love how translation forces you to take a step back from autopilot mode and see the little intricacies of a language through the eyes of a non-speaker. and also reveals how something you thought was completely natural and intuitive is actually fucking absurd if you think about it

[poorlymanufacturedgirl]

every time i feel even a little financially secure something happens to put me in my place

[disarmonia]

Wyll Ravengard ❤️‍🔥 Painted this completely unplanned and unexpected portrait last night. I guess the heavy rain traditionally brought me inspiration after all, even though it's now really hard to not read all sound of thunder as explosions. Unfortunately russian attacks on our homes happen more often than thunderstorms. Wonder if this will ever go back to normal. Either way, happy with our handsome boy, excited to do more BG3 art when I have more time between commissions and charity work. If you like my art, consider tipping! MY TIP JARS HERE ❤️‍🩹

[pucksandpower]

If I Was a Worm

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: would you still love me if I was a worm?

Max leans back on the plush leather couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where a football match flickers. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of evening sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Max?” You murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.

He hums in response, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. The question that’s been nagging at you feels silly now that you’re about to voice it. But curiosity wins out. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Max’s hand stills. He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A worm? Like, an actual worm?”

You nod, fighting back a smile at his bewildered expression.

He lets out a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”

“Just answer the question,” you insist, poking his side playfully.

Max runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process this unexpected turn in conversation. “I mean ... I guess? But why would you be a worm?”

You shrug, sitting up to face him properly. “It’s hypothetical, Max. Just go with it.”

He sighs, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Alright, fine. If you were a worm, I’d ... I’d buy you the best soil? Make sure you had plenty of leaves to eat?”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt. “That’s sweet, but not quite what I meant.”

Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I don’t know how to love a worm! What do worms even do?”

“They wiggle,” you offer helpfully, demonstrating with a wave of your hand.

He captures your wiggling hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay, so you’d wiggle. And I’d ... watch you wiggle?”

You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Max joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer.

“I’m serious though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “Would you still love me? Even if I wasn’t ... me anymore?”

Max’s expression softens, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Is that what this is really about? You’re worried I wouldn’t love you if you changed?”

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it’s silly ...”

“Hey,” Max says gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s not silly. And to answer your question: yes, I’d still love you. Worm or not.”

“Even if I couldn’t talk to you anymore? Or hug you? Or do any of the things we do together?”

Max is quiet for a moment, considering. “I think ... I think love isn’t just about what someone can do for you. It’s about who they are, their essence. And that wouldn’t change, even if you were a worm.”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “That’s ... actually really profound, Max.”

He grins, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I have my moments.”

“So you’d be okay with having a worm girlfriend?” You tease, lightening the mood.

Max laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it would definitely make my life interesting. Imagine trying to explain that to the press.”

You adopt a mock-serious tone. “Max, is it true that your girlfriend is now a invertebrate?’“

He plays along, mimicking his media voice. “Yes, it’s true. But I can assure you, she’s the most beautiful earthworm you’ve ever seen.”

You both dissolve into giggles, the earlier tension completely dissipated.

“Seriously though,” Max says once you’ve caught your breath. “Where did this worm thing come from?”

You shrug, a bit embarrassed now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about how much our lives have changed since we got together. And how they might keep changing. I guess I wanted to know if there was a limit to ... us.”

Max’s expression turns thoughtful. “I get that. Our lives are pretty crazy sometimes.”

“Understatement of the year,” you mutter.

He chuckles. “Fair enough. But you know, through all the craziness, you’re my constant. My home base. That wouldn’t change, even if you grew an exoskeleton.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Worms don’t have exoskeletons.”

“Same difference,” Max says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I love you. All of you. Not just the parts that are convenient or easy.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat, touched by his sincerity. “Even the parts that ask weird hypothetical questions?”

“Especially those parts,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They keep me on my toes.”

You snuggle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Thank you for humoring me.”

“Always,” Max murmurs. “Though I have to ask ... why a worm? Why not like, a cat or something?”

You laugh. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Plus, a cat would be too easy. You already like cats.”

“True,” he concedes. “But at least a cat could watch races with me. What would a worm do all day?”

You pretend to consider this seriously. “Worm things. Soil aeration. Composting.”

Max nods solemnly. “Ah yes, very important worm business.”

“Hey, don’t mock my hypothetical worm life,” you protest, poking his chest. “I’d be a very accomplished worm, I’ll have you know.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare question your worm credentials.”

You both fall silent for a moment, the absurdity of the conversation sinking in.

“We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?” You say finally, unable to keep the smile off your face.

Max grins. “Completely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You lean in to kiss him, feeling a rush of affection for this man who can make even the silliest conversations feel meaningful.

As you pull away, Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, if you really want to be a worm, I could always bury you in the garden ...”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Max Verstappen, don’t you dare!”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though it might be fun to see you wiggle ...”

You swat his arm playfully. “Keep it up and you’ll be the one sleeping in the garden tonight.”

Max’s expression turns serious, though there’s still a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You know, all this worm talk has got me thinking ...”

“Oh?” You say, curious about where he’s going with this.

He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve realized something important.”

You wait, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“If you were a worm,” Max says slowly, building suspense, “you’d be the prettiest worm in the world.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest to muffle your laughter. “That was terrible.”

“But true,” he insists, chuckling. “You’d leave all the other worms in the dust. Or ... soil, I guess.”

You look up at him, shaking your head fondly. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Max says confidently.

And as you gaze into his warm, playful eyes, you can’t deny it. You do love it. You love him, in all his goofy, sweet, sometimes infuriating glory.

“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really do.”

Max’s expression softens, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I love you. Worm or human or anything in between.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he says firmly. “Though I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of this current version of you.”

You smile, your earlier insecurities fading away in the warmth of his gaze. “Me too. I think I’ll stick with being human for now.”

“Good choice,” Max murmurs, pulling you in for another kiss. “Though I bet you’d make a cute worm.”