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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
coastgods

piwnymisiek:

paperwaspnest:

daco-broman:

davidlieberman:

cabwaylingo:

surgeries except theyre recorded like patch notes

Uterine lining will no longer spawn outside uterus or clip into organs.

2.1.12 Removed tumor

Patch 2.1.15 Removed the following legacy features:

- Appendix (obsolete from recent environmental updates)

- Wisdom Teeth (Insufficient jawbone RAM for the majority of players)

Patch 2.1.15. addendum:

Meckel’s diverticulum found and removed after additional abdominal cavity debugging.

23.09.90

- Program is running ADD.exe version 1.0.0 for no particular reason. Will definitely require frequent patching to ensure effectivity.

23.12.91

- After 3 months of running program successfully, an inguinal hernia in lower abdomen was found causing cpu failure and excessive beeping. Diagnostics and repair program was unable to administer anesthetics but eventually solved the issue altogether.

08.08.07

- ADD.exe has been patched version 1.0.1

01.01.17

- 4 months of formatting done. Server has been relocated to better facility. Program is running smoother than ever.

Well maybe not surgical but medical nevertheless
rafaelafranzen sectionratiogeneral
aziraphley

so now that his shop’s burned down, aziraphale’s going to have to get a new phone, right? how’s that conversation with crowley going to go?

like just imagine, after notmageddon, aziraphale and crowley lounging around on a park bench—or, at least, crowley lounging, aziraphale sitting primly with his ice cream cone—

and then aziraphale saying, brightening up in that stupidly adorable way he has, “you know, maybe I’ll get a proper phone. mine is, well, out of commission, now, and I’ve always wanted to buy one of those sleek little black ones like what you’ve got.” 

“you barely even know how to use a microwave,” crowley points out. “what’re you going to do with a cell phone?”

aziraphale huffs at him. “it’s not my fault I like going to actual restaurants to eat food. and, anyway, I imagine I’d know more about phones than you, seeing as half the time you answer me with the exact same phrase.”

“I do?” 

“‘This is Anthony Crowley’,” aziraphale mimics, terribly. “‘You know what to do. Do it with style’.”

“well, that’s my answerphone,” crowley objects. “that’s pre-recorded! can’t have the telemarketers after me, can I; I’m beginning to regret that particular—”

“but it can’t be your answerphone, crowley, you always pick up!” aziraphale exclaims.

crowley opens his mouth to explain, for the forty-fifth time, how answerphones work—and then he realizes with a sickening, horribly affectionate burst of clarity that the angel is actually right. he’s never not picked up on aziraphale. not once. has he picked up the phone and promptly hung up before? well, yeah, maybe. but it’s been decades that aziraphale’s had a phone to call him with, and crowley cannot remember a single time when he didn’t at least pick up on his angel. 

this, at the same time, is occurring to aziraphale himself. “my dear,” he begins, all mushy tone and softening eyes, “do you mean to say you’ve never…”

“weeeeeeell,” says crowley hastily, “I mean, I just, you know, thought it would be best for the Arrangement if I picked up every once in a while.”

“every once in a while,” says aziraphale, beaming, and—

and, here’s the other thing, crowley does not deserve to be looked at like that, not when the curling thick smoke of aziraphale’s bookshop still threatens to choke him sometimes when he closes his eyes for too long. not when he could’ve been there for aziraphale, for his best friend. not when he feels like the reason aziraphale has to get a new phone in the first place.

he swallows the guilt, and he says in an entirely different tone, “aziraphale—”

“my dear crowley,” his angel returns, and crowley could have mapped out a whole new roadway from the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “there is nothing to forgive.”

and crowley marvels, as he has for six thousand years, at aziraphale’s ability to turn him inside out with a few well-spoken words. 4004 BC, when he held a lingering resentment for the angels that cast him away: ‘I gave it away,’ aziraphale said. 1967, when crowley had thought that maybe, finally—and then there was ‘you go too fast for me, crowley’.

2019: crowley knows in his slithering bones that demons cannot be forgiven. and here, now, is his angel, looking into him with those beautiful eyes and saying ‘there is nothing to forgive.’

aziraphale gets to his feet—offers him the crook of his elbow—invitation and affection and declaration all in one;

and, as crowley swings himself off the bench and his arm into his angel’s, he’s more than a little grateful for the sunglasses that hide the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

moki-dokie

maxer-blaster asked:

When Aziraphale/Madame Tracy and Shadwell are on the moped thing going in the sky, Aziraphale uses the turn signal when turning. (You can hear the turning noise). A moped in the sky. And he still uses the turn signal.

right?? the dork. BUT this offers some interesting insight.

aziraphale knows traffic laws. like, knows them enough to follow them without hesitation. crowley doesn’t exactly obey traffic laws so i hiiiiighly doubt he learned from crowley’s driving.

hence, we can assume aziraphale has driven cars enough in his life to know the laws by habit. maybe crowley let him drive the bentley sometimes? unlikely, but hey, who knows. maybe aziraphale had a car for a few decades?

or is it via possession he knows whatever madam tracy knows and just uses her knowledge? hmmmmm

it’s fun to think about!

good omens
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