david tennant as aziraphale as crowley
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Anesthesia resident lauded for poise during intubation, admits he had no clue what happened
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PORTLAND, OR - Ms. Wee was prepped for her biannual joint replacement in OR 4, but this time would be different. Anesthesia resident Dr. CJ Van Ross would be at the helm, stationed at the head of the bed for the second time since July. “I was nervous, but I successfully intubated the 28 week p…
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“Alternative Transportation” or “Just When I Thought He Couldn’t Go Any Faster”
I wondered what Crowley might drive if his precious Bentley had been permanently destroyed. Aziraphale does not consider this an improvement.
The decals and devil horn handlebars are almost totally ironic.
YOU’VE HEARD OF WINGFIC, GET READY FOR THE NEW WEIRD THING: NESTING FIC.
So I was inflicting myself on @thebibliosphere‘s DMs the other day, as is occasionally my wont, and I was telling her about this new ridiculous headcanon that I have, to wit: Angels engage in nesting behaviors as an elaborate mating ritual.
“Joy,” I said. “Joy. Joy. Joy Joy Joy. That’s what the bookshop is. It’s a nest, Joy. That’s why he’s spent 200 years filling it with things he likes. That’s why he gets super fucking mad when people try to come in and buy bits of it off him.”
I am extremely committed to sparkle motion, so I have prepared for you, darlings, several different angles that one could take on a nesting!fic if one were going to write it.
I like this idea so much but if I may.
Crowley is bad at nesting and so hasn’t invited Aziraphale over in… so long. But that night after the apocclolwasn’t he brings Aazeraphale back and just says. “I’m not done with it yet.” And Aziraphale is like yikes it’s bad but also it’s not all bad. Like the plants are beautiful and he like one coffee table. But despite how bad the rest of it Aziraphale is really encouraging and crowly just lights up.
mmm yeah that’s good too, add that to the pile, i’ll take six of each
firstly this is hilarious 😂 secondly there’s probably so many puns waiting in potential about nesting in the pines lmao
A Classroom Crowdscience Competition
Instead of taking a final exam, students in a “Biological Networks and Biomedicine” class at UC San Diego compete to analyze a database of patient genetic information and identify the genes most closely associated with schizophrenia. The top teams not only came up with a list of known schizophrenia-associated genes, they ran the analysis in under five minutes and outperformed previously published approaches.
In this episode of N Equals One, Trey Ideker and Samson Fong, who teach the class, discuss the project and why a paper was published about the class.
crowley-did-this
crowley-did-this
Crowley told runners that posting updates of their running times on facebook every day was a great idea
‘Your friends, family and colleagues are all dying to know about the 2 minutes you shaved off your personal best. You should tell them all. Right now’
Bringing this back because summer is here and I am once again inundated with people thinking we should all care about the fine details of their training run
i keep thinking about belly kisses and the fact that crowley actually has a fancy pajama set and so……. slumber party time :’’’’’)
Some people’s writing is like a seven-course meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant. The interior decorator went all out, not a crumb on the floor, the staff treat you like royalty, and when the waiter barely smudges your plate, the chef threatens to fire him and offers you the most expensive dessert on the menu to make up for the faux-pas. You gush about it to all your friends for years to come. The waiting list for a new reservation is at least a year long, and you can’t wait to experience it all again.
Other people’s writing is like a nighttime drive-through at a fast food joint. The sign outside flickers ominously, the person handing you your food looks like he wouldn’t be fazed–nor interested–if death itself showed up and ordered a cheeseburger. There’s a fifty percent chance someone spat in your milkshake, and when you reach the bottom of the bag there’s a single chicken nugget. You did not order any nuggets and it’s shaped like a chicken’s head; you wonder if someone just put a hex on you. You don’t tell anyone about your midnight escapade, try to forget all about it, but you’ll end up there again in less than a week, looking for a quick fix.
My writing is like a food truck that shows up late one night, serves you some pretty decent pancakes (of all the things a food truck could serve), and drives away and out of sight before sunrise. Eventually you see it again but now it’s serving omelettes for some reason.



