a lost thing looks for a lost name

Bertie Wooster tells it like it is.

posts that feel like bertie-isms, to me

i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

you get it. you get the themes. i dont have time to do it justice. just look at it its on the ceiling

Look I love unconditional devotion love stories as much as the next person, but there's really something so deliciously raw about conditional devotion.

I have served you and I have loved you for decades, but I will not give up my principles for you. You cut out part of my heart and took it with you down that path that you insist on walking, but you walk it alone. Even when the bleeding, gaping hole you left in my chest kills me, I will not follow you.

me everytime one of my seemingly non-specific homoerotic text posts breaks containment

truly no greater description of this show for me than this

scurvy has got to have one of the biggest disease/treatment coolness gaps of all time. like yeah too much time at sea will afflict you with a curse where your body starts unraveling and old wounds come back to haunt you like vengeful ghosts. unless☝️you eat a lemon

madam president i diagnose you with heart eyes

It's Take your Children to Work Day on Voyager 🦎🦎🦎

sooo incredible that the first female captain in star trek has a first officer who’s so stupidly in love with her that he just follows her around hopelessly. like yeah I Am the Captain of this Vessel. Oh, who’s that? Oh That’s My Loyal and Besotted Knight. Yeah he comes with my whole thing. He Serves me with Undying and Patient Devotion. Sometimes he carves me a bathtub.

lets make music together 🫴

hihi. kill me

new doctor who tommorow. And I it’s honour- Here’s this Very Important Post

he’s an unreliable narrator TO YOU. i believe him

Bro why do you keep insisting we try to disarm this genderbending trap? We literally mapped out this whole dungeon floor we can just walk around it...

Whoa watch it bud! If I hadn't caught you you would have fallen straight into that pit of tentacles! Good thing I stopped you when I did, huh?

Oh man if I was just a few minutes late that vampire baroness would have hypnotized you and made you her thrall, good thing you can always count on me, ey? Cmon let's get going, the next round's on you

Sir Terry Pratchett awakens. A skeleton stands at his bedside, wearing a long black robe. He sits up. “Well, hang on, let me get my hat,” he tells it.

The skeleton reaches into its robe. From abyssal depths it produces a heavy book bound in sheets of lead and night. It is the kind of book that gets stolen by a rugged adventurer from a temple with more spike-traps than the average house of worship contains. It is the kind of book to which the word “tome” might properly be applied. Frost forms on its pages from the lingering chill of the void. 

The skeleton coughs once and holds the book out to the man sitting on the bed.

WOULD YOU SIGN THIS? it asks. BIG FAN.

Oh this must be reblogged, 10 years later

in absolute tears about the pride module at my work

HOLY SHIT GUYS, I WAS INSPIRED BY THIS POST TO TRY MAKE THE SONG AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I DRAGGED THE TRAINING AUDIO OVER THE BACKING TRACK AND IT LINED UP PERFECTLY

Tempted to actually put this on spotify so I can secretly stream it at work...

Tagging @batshit-auspol because as an Australian you're the only big account I know who might share (sorry).

fries. envelopes. ive been awake for 18 hours can i go to bed now.

you know i think the fact that friends and enemies autocorrected to this and i didn't notice is reason enough i should sleep

Honestly just imagined that an 18 hour shift at the mailing-fries-in-envelopes factory must have been grueling.