I think at one point or another everyone should become slightly obsessed with a show (preferably 10+ years old) that 99% of their mutuals don’t care about. it builds character. keeps you humble
listen to me. listen. sometimes your show is a video game from two years ago. sometimes it’s an 19th century opera. sometimes it’s a math-themed crime drama you watched in middle school but did not retain because you were blinded by lust for that one elf from the santa clause movies. the only thing that matters is that none of your posts get more than like 15 notes and all your mutuals reply to them with
If you went to university, what was the most common title for you to use to refer to your professors as an undergraduate? (Choose the linguistic equivalent if you didn’t go to an English-language uni)
Feel free to elaborate further in the tags, especially if you picked Option 3 because as a professor myself it MYSTIFIES me that there are students who do that! (Also, unless it is just the Culture at your school or something, you should not do that. For future reference)
that one post about immortals having to keep track of their belongings but with good omens. crowley loses his journal some time in the 1900s. it’s full of him waxing poetic about aziraphale but he just figures it ended up in a ditch somewhere, nothing to worry about.
until aziraphale invites him to a new exhibition and they’re both staring down multiple transcripts of pages in what is unmistakably his handwriting talking about ‘my angel’ and ‘that beautiful, infuriating bastard’ and ‘i’ve loved him since eden and i fear i’ll love him until armageddon’
You drop a small piece of food on the floor, and decide to kick it under the oven/couch/whatever because you can’t be bothered to pick it up. As you’re walking away, you hear a very quiet “Thank you!” from under it.
“No problem,” I say, the words passing out of my mouth on autopilot, before my brain engages and I freeze.
I turn, and look at the fridge. It seems to be the same fridge that was here when I moved in.
I mean, I’m also kind of embarrassed. I never do that, I know that’s how you get roaches, but my back hurts so bad that getting up and down is next to impossible, much less bending over. “Um, you holding up okay down there?” I ask.
There was silence.
“I know that we’re probably the only apartment in the building that doesn’t have a bug problem. That’s, well, that’s you, right?”
Again, silence. But I know I heard it.
“Listen, I can’t really bend over right now, but if you’re down there and hungry, like, there’s half a rotisserie chicken in there that’s about to go bad. I was going to throw it away, but if you could use it-”
